“I was a cat near the age of one, almost a year ago. I had ventured from home to investigate the surroundings of my new home. I had recently come to find my home, which was a cave, at the time.” Devenolete recollected.
“As I was rounding a corner, I smelled smoke. The stench filled my nose and sparked the kitten curiosity that was still inside of me.
“So, I followed the smell with my nose. The scent was powerful, and was very easy to follow. When I could smell the scent so strongly that I couldn’t smell a thing but the stench. I realized that the scent was not really smoke. It smelled almost like someone was burning lemons, an acidic scent with a smokey stench. When I turned to the direction in which the stench was most powerful, I regretted my coming here.
“There was a pile of burning stones, and above it was a cat. The cat’s feet was tied to the wall with chains, and, though the cat was hanging high over the fire, she or he was diffidently very hot. The flames were strong and everything around me and the cat was made of either stone or medal.
“I was starting to back away, fearful of who the cat who put the other cat here was, and where that cat was. But, just then, I caught a glance of the chained cat’s face. I saw the pain and suffering in the cat’s eyes. That was when I knew that I had to help her.
“I ran foreword and called up to the chained she-cat that hung from the top of the medal roof. ‘I’m going to get you down!’ I shouted as loudly as I could, so that the cat could hear her. ‘Don’t panic! I won’t hurt you!’
“The cat looked down at her, slight fear in her young eyes. The she-cat looked younger then me, and her face betrayed every emotion that she was feeling. But, there was trust in her eyes also, along with the fear. The she-cat gave me a small nod, an invite to do whatever I could to get her free.
“I observed that there were many weapons and chains and ropes and many other lethal things around me. There were strange looking things that I later learned are called guns.”
“What are guns, Devenolete?” Queela interrupted.
“Gun are...dangerous weapons. You will learn about then later in your life,” then, not to Devenolete’s surprise, she noticed that the adult cats didn’t understand what guns were, either. She gave them a look that said, I’ll tell you more tonight. Not in front of the kittens. Not here, not now.
Almost all of the adult cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue nodded slightly and silently. From what Devenolete said, guns were dangerous things that the kittens should not learn about or be exposed to.
Devenolete continued her story.
"I realized that there was a long rope that lead up to the ceiling that hung high over my head. If I climbed that rope, then I could run along the medal planks to a chain where I would be able to take a leap of faith and reach the chained she-cat.
"I felt hope flare in my chest. I could reach the she-cat! That would bring me one step closer to releasing her, to freeing her from her bonds.
"The hope died only a few quick moments after it came. How would I be able to reach the rope? It was well higher then I could jump. I knew that, however hard I tried, I would be unable to jump that height.
"I looked around for other ways that I could reach the helpless cat, but each and every single opportunity that I found only lead to a dead end.
"I looked back on my original idea. If I could reach a higher height, I could jump, catch the rope, and continue with my plan. There was no time to waste. I turned and took in my surroundings once again, this time with a new determination that had grown in the time that had delayed the she-cat's rescue. I was doing this for her. And I would not fail her.
"I sighted a rectangular wooden box. It was the only wooden thing in the place, and it was behind a group of square medal and stone boxes. I didn't know how I would be able to reach the wooden one, but something inside of me told me that I would reach it. And that I would be able to reach that rope. And, perhaps I would be able to save the she-cat. The least I could do was try."
Absorbed by the story, Cymite barely heard Flecka meow, "Cymite! Starsnatch wants you to come and see her!"
Cymite suppressed a sigh. Starsnatch was a sweet cat, and had very sweet kittens, but she worried a little too much. Cymite knew nothing about mothering five kittens, but Starsnatch and her were good friends, so Starsnatch asked her about everything. Literally.
Begrudgingly, Cymite left the crowded group of onlooking cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue to go see her friend.
*****
The moment Cymite's head appeared in the entrance of the small hut, Starsnatch started talking.
"So you know how Witchra has always been like like different?" Without stopping for an answer or even a breath, Starsnatch continued. "Well Chianee's kittens have been teasing her. My little Witchra won't tell me what they said, but she has been been really depressed lately. I heard them teasing her, but I could only make out a few words, which I forgot."
That was Starsnatch. Always forgetful.
"Okay, so why did you ask me to come here, Starsnatch?" Cymite said tiredly, a headache pounding inside of her scull. She knew that whatever the problem that her friend was having, there was a 99.9% chance that she would be unable to solve it. And, when she was unable to solve a problem, Starsnatch would first bawl for a hour or so, and then badger Cymite for advice that she couldn't provide. Then, Starsnatch would resume her sobbing.
"Well, so you know how Witchra has always been like different? Well Chianee's kittens--" Starsnatch began.
"Oh!" Cymite interrupted, desperate to avoid hearing the story once more. "Yes, I heard that. She you want me to help you with Witchra getting teased?"
"Yes. Exactly. Positively," Starsnatch confirmed.
Then again, there was always that 0.1%.
"Well, why don't you watch them play without them knowing and, when they tease Witchra, you can confront them and tell them not to do that. If they still continue their taunting, then you should take the problem to the parent. Tell Chianee that her kittens are misbehaving and that you would like her to stop them."
"Sure. Okay. Fine. Got it. Righty-o..." Starsnatch replied.
While Starsnatch continued to go on and on with her response, needlessly saying different variations of 'sure', Cymite slipped out of the little hut that contained her chatty friend and her five cute kittens that were in impossibly playful moods, at the time.
*****
Once Cymite reached the river, she felt a bit better. She could see few shadows shunning the bright sunlight and the calming rush of the river roaring below her. She wanted to stay there for infinity and the oakwood bridge, enjoying the beauty of the river and its surroundings, but she knew that she could not. Anyway, this was not her ending destination. She would come here after she finished the business that was left unattended.
For now.
Cymite scampered over the bridge, ignoring the mice and birds that scuttled away from the pathway that she followed.
She blindly rushed forth, not paying attention to her surroundings. She thought about what she had to do, playing what she would do over and over in her head. She knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as it was to imagine it as it would be to do it.
It was not going to be easy at all.
So, Cymite raced onward. Then, while she continued the long journey, she remembered a little something of her past.
A few weeks after Cymite had been born, she had been taken away from her mother and siblings. A fox had picked her up in its mouth, thinking of her as its prey.
The hungry fox carried her to its burrow, but desperate to return to her mother, she rushed out of the fox’s home and into the unknown world. She searched and searched to her mother and brothers and sisters, she called out for them and looked for her home, but, no matter how hard she tried, she could locate no one.
But the fox had carried her far away from her home.
And, no matter how loudly she called, how hard she searched, and how far she walked, she could not find her way home. She could not find her loving family.
She was distraught. For, young Cymite was lonely. She was forlorn. She was detached from the only cats that she loved. And she was lost.
Young Cymite looked for the entire day, without any result whatsoever. She shed her tears that night, alone inside of an ancient, rotting, termite-infested log. Through her tears, she could see the moon rising from its nestled home beyond the endless indigo mountains that seemed to be light years away. And, sobbing, she cried herself to sleep.
When young Cymite awoke, all seemed the same, until noon. The moment her shadow drifted beneath her, a beautiful gray she-cat seemed to appear in front of her.
Cymite gasped when she saw the much bigger cat before her. Afraid, little Cymite asked, stuttering from the overwhelming fear, “Who-who are you?”
The she-cat told her that there was nothing to fear. She told her that her name was Clorfly, and that she was the leader of the Group of Majic and Rescue. The Group of Majic and Rescue, Clorfly explained, helped cats in need of help. They rescued any cat that was being threatened in any way, usually by Biclaw. Biclaw, Clorfly continued, was an evil mastermind with one medal paw with two, extra long, silver claws. He was the leader of the Demon Cats, also known as the
Dragonstone Cats, which would constantly and relentlessly attack the island that they stood on: Rapture.
Juvenile Cymite was intrigued by these cats. The Group of Majic and Rescue were such admirable cats....
Clorfly saw the determination in the young cat’s eyes. She offered Cymite to join the Group of Majic and Rescue.
Cymite, happily surprised, excepted, profusely thanking Clorfly all the way down the path (the same pathway that she was taking at this very moment)and to the most wonderful world that the cosmos could behold. It was too beautiful for her to look upon, thought Cymite breathlessly. And she trained for the rest of her life, until, one day, she became a Sunete, the lowest ranking for The Cats.
And that day had changed Cymite’s life forever.
Cymite looked up, her thoughts interrupted by the sad call of a lonesome songbird. All around her was chard earth, scorched plant life, and scattered stones. A solo mouse squeaked pitifully and scrabbled away from Cymite. She breathed in a deep breath of cold, foul-smelling air. Then she let it out. She was hear.
“Okay,” Cymite said aloud to herself, determination dominating her voice. “It’s time I did something that I should have done a long time ago.”
She took another deep breath. The icy air blew past her sharp white teeth and chilled her gums. With every exhale, the stench of her surroundings seemed to get more and more overwhelming. It burned in her nose and its terrible tang sat, unforgotten on her tongue. She wished that this wasn’t the place she had to do this, but there wasn’t much choice. She exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Okay. She was ready.
“Time to do this,” Cymite told herself. She needed to be confident. If this didn’t work out....She didn’t even want to think about it. Confidence. Okay. The time was right. If she was ever going to do this, she’d better do it now.
She was confident.
She was going to do this, no matter what the consequences were.
She was ready.
She looked up, her green eyes shadowed by the darkness of the shady, dirty place. She took another breath and released it. “Time to see who I really am.”
The words echoed through her head.
She stepped forward. The sodden earth parted as her paw pressed it. An air of confidence surrounded her, despite the fact that she was violently shaking.
Cymite looked down at her paws. “Okay,” she breathed. “Time to see what I can do.”
-KittyLover8
© 2012
For now.
Cymite scampered over the bridge, ignoring the mice and birds that scuttled away from the pathway that she followed.
She blindly rushed forth, not paying attention to her surroundings. She thought about what she had to do, playing what she would do over and over in her head. She knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as it was to imagine it as it would be to do it.
It was not going to be easy at all.
So, Cymite raced onward. Then, while she continued the long journey, she remembered a little something of her past.
A few weeks after Cymite had been born, she had been taken away from her mother and siblings. A fox had picked her up in its mouth, thinking of her as its prey.
The hungry fox carried her to its burrow, but desperate to return to her mother, she rushed out of the fox’s home and into the unknown world. She searched and searched to her mother and brothers and sisters, she called out for them and looked for her home, but, no matter how hard she tried, she could locate no one.
But the fox had carried her far away from her home.
And, no matter how loudly she called, how hard she searched, and how far she walked, she could not find her way home. She could not find her loving family.
She was distraught. For, young Cymite was lonely. She was forlorn. She was detached from the only cats that she loved. And she was lost.
Young Cymite looked for the entire day, without any result whatsoever. She shed her tears that night, alone inside of an ancient, rotting, termite-infested log. Through her tears, she could see the moon rising from its nestled home beyond the endless indigo mountains that seemed to be light years away. And, sobbing, she cried herself to sleep.
When young Cymite awoke, all seemed the same, until noon. The moment her shadow drifted beneath her, a beautiful gray she-cat seemed to appear in front of her.
Cymite gasped when she saw the much bigger cat before her. Afraid, little Cymite asked, stuttering from the overwhelming fear, “Who-who are you?”
The she-cat told her that there was nothing to fear. She told her that her name was Clorfly, and that she was the leader of the Group of Majic and Rescue. The Group of Majic and Rescue, Clorfly explained, helped cats in need of help. They rescued any cat that was being threatened in any way, usually by Biclaw. Biclaw, Clorfly continued, was an evil mastermind with one medal paw with two, extra long, silver claws. He was the leader of the Demon Cats, also known as the
Dragonstone Cats, which would constantly and relentlessly attack the island that they stood on: Rapture.
Juvenile Cymite was intrigued by these cats. The Group of Majic and Rescue were such admirable cats....
Clorfly saw the determination in the young cat’s eyes. She offered Cymite to join the Group of Majic and Rescue.
Cymite, happily surprised, excepted, profusely thanking Clorfly all the way down the path (the same pathway that she was taking at this very moment)and to the most wonderful world that the cosmos could behold. It was too beautiful for her to look upon, thought Cymite breathlessly. And she trained for the rest of her life, until, one day, she became a Sunete, the lowest ranking for The Cats.
And that day had changed Cymite’s life forever.
Cymite looked up, her thoughts interrupted by the sad call of a lonesome songbird. All around her was chard earth, scorched plant life, and scattered stones. A solo mouse squeaked pitifully and scrabbled away from Cymite. She breathed in a deep breath of cold, foul-smelling air. Then she let it out. She was hear.
“Okay,” Cymite said aloud to herself, determination dominating her voice. “It’s time I did something that I should have done a long time ago.”
She took another deep breath. The icy air blew past her sharp white teeth and chilled her gums. With every exhale, the stench of her surroundings seemed to get more and more overwhelming. It burned in her nose and its terrible tang sat, unforgotten on her tongue. She wished that this wasn’t the place she had to do this, but there wasn’t much choice. She exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Okay. She was ready.
“Time to do this,” Cymite told herself. She needed to be confident. If this didn’t work out....She didn’t even want to think about it. Confidence. Okay. The time was right. If she was ever going to do this, she’d better do it now.
She was confident.
She was going to do this, no matter what the consequences were.
She was ready.
She looked up, her green eyes shadowed by the darkness of the shady, dirty place. She took another breath and released it. “Time to see who I really am.”
The words echoed through her head.
She stepped forward. The sodden earth parted as her paw pressed it. An air of confidence surrounded her, despite the fact that she was violently shaking.
Cymite looked down at her paws. “Okay,” she breathed. “Time to see what I can do.”
-KittyLover8
© 2012
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