Author's note: First of all, I'm terribly sorry for this story's dormancy to anyone who has been waiting for an update. Life gets crazy sometimes as we all know and sometimes you need a little break. I was also struggling a little as this story was meant to be finished (Haha) before the 4th movie was released, so it is obviously a bit "AU" now as the saying goes. Whatever! Here is another chapter to get started again and thank you all for your patience, I hope you've had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's.

Chapter 11: Senses

Am I…swaying? Of course I am. I'm still on that blasted boat. That wasn't quite it though. Not the whole of it. There was an additional layer to this motion, this swinging suspension. Diego groaned as he tried to rotate his aching body. He couldn't. The tiger's eyes opened heavily, barely taking in the empty chamber about him. Pale light seeped through a thinned layer of ice along one wall, creating a translucent window. It was daylight. He was firmly, yet gently wrapped in a seaweed bed. The sharp pain in his ribs told him it was more likely a matter of healing than punishment. The ship's already unpredictable movement was troublesome enough for the saber to grow accustomed to, the constant rocking of his bed was unbearable. He imagined that upon first being placed there that the motion was comforting to his broken, barely conscious body and mind. He could recall distant dreams of a shadowy presence. Wanting to escape from a cold lullaby that grunted and sputtered, rather than sang, of blood and cracking bones. Icy fingers enfolded him within soft restraints as the voice rose, and they tightened the knots as the voice fell. A foul liquid slid down his throat and he was left to fitful sleep, what most would call nightmares, but such dreams Diego would not admit to. At that time the soft sway of his harness helped him evade the unpleasantness of the situation. Now it held him to it. He could barely turn his head and no motion of his actual body was permitted, except for twitching his toes. The small actions of stretching his paws and retracting his claws only served to irritate himself further as he itched for freedom.

With another groan he resigned himself to the wait. Wait for what? Anything. He tried to keep his thoughts from running, hunting. He was beginning to lose track of how long it was been since his last hunt. When he last felt something solid under his paws, dirt in his toes, the burn of a good run. No. Seafaring is not the ideal life for a tiger.

Two young sabers crouched at the end of a clearing, one with obviously serious design, and the other in a more frolicsome state. A gazelle tromps through fallen branches, nipping the last of the good berries from the foliage usually out of his reach.

"He sounds nice and fat!"

"Quiet, Sen."

"Wait, my whispering is louder than you breaking every twig and scraping your claws on every rock? Are we hunting?"

"I am. Shut-up."

"Here's a hint, try retracting your claws. Stop looking at him, I know you are."

"Sen, not looking at him won't help me catch him. Stop talking."

"Have you ever tried?"

Diego made an inaudible grumble. He could tell his prey was on alert now by the prick of his ears and the stiffness in his muscles. He could see it with his eyes, but he knew that his half brother, Sensus, could hear it in the quickening breath and irregular, clipped hoof falls. Diego's own muscles constricted as he prepared for a leap. His toes curled, grating his claws through the earth. Too soon. The gazelle retreated, the tiger springing after him and giving chase. Sabers are not meant for long distance runs, and leaping prematurely only gives the quarry more than a fair chance at escape. Diego had soon sprinted himself out. His body shook as the last of its vigor was expended in merely keeping his balance. What a waste. His eyes strained and mouth watered as the gazelle effortlessly leapt into the tree line.

Sensus quickly caught up.

"I could have told you he was still too far away. You let your sight trick you."

"What do you know about it?"

"Hmm, well I know what I can do without it."

Spite was beginning to bring some drained energy back to Diego's command.

"Can you catch me?" He began running rough circles, varying in angle and distance, around the other saber, attempting to confuse him with a deliberate pelting of snow kicked from his back paws. His laugh was soon cut short as his face was pressed deep into a snow bank, his brother's weight pinning him.

"The snow was your biggest mistake, but I could have got you anyway. Thanks." The younger, tawnier tiger released his comrade.

Half of Diego wanted to be irritated at the spunk and innocence gazing blankly, yet contentedly into his face. His lighter half was won over by the unseeing grey eyes that he knew would follow him anywhere, yet could always teach him a lesson. There are senses more powerful than what you can see.

"If you were quieter on the hunt, father would be significantly more impressed."

"I don't care about impressing him."

"You care about actually catching something, don't you?"

The mention of their father put a shadow on the venture. They would return without anything this evening. Most young would fear for themselves, but these two were growing old enough to know that it was their mother they should fear for. Soar would blame his son's lack of success on his mate, Martah, say is was her inadequate training, even though he was equally responsible for it. He would blame everyone but himself-just as Diego blamed both the gazelle and Sensus for his own inability to refine his hunting skills. Diego hated when he saw his father in himself.

"There is still a little sunlight left. Perhaps you should try now, we might have better luck. I can work more later." As unorthodox as Sen's hunt methods were, evolved around his handicap, Diego knew they were superior to that of many sabers, even if he was forever barred from real hunts and pack positions. It was worth a try. Anything was, anything that lessoned the rage in their father's eyes, and the subsequent pain in their mother's.

It was growing dim again in his chamber when Diego woke again, to the soft noise of someone entering. It was Shira. Given his immobility, the tiger was unsure whether to be glad or afraid of the company. He then noticed the glittering of several fish swaying from her mouth as she strolled towards him.

"Where are Sid, and Manny…and Granny?" It sounded strange for him to croak worries over Sid's grandmother, but he wasn't going to take it back. After all, that was why he lay here now, no sense in trying to hide that. Shira already knew. The tigress let the fish fall so she should answer.

"Sid wanted to come down to make a fire for you, but Raz forbid it. The ice down here isn't nearly as resistant to melting." She looked at her paws as she spoke, avoiding Diego's eyes for the first time since they met. "Manny is fine too, though more stubborn than what is good for him."

"Granny?"

"I think she is ok."

"What do you mean, you think?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to her?"

"Gutt sent her overboard…she had food. I think she should survive until the current brings her ashore. I'm sorry. I did what I could."

"Why do you care?"

"I know what it feels like to lose your family."

"Don't we all."

Shira bristled, began to turn. She glanced to the fish on the floor, far out of reach for Diego's immobilized subsistence.

"Shall I leave those there?"

The male tiger's gaze weakened as it dropped to the food. His stomach made a more obvious answer. He hated fish, but he was learning that his options at sea were not overgenerous. Shira gingerly picked one up by the tail and held it close to his mouth, muffling her decision.

"You haven't eaten in days and apparently we need you alive."

"You have a way to saying "alive" as if you wish I wasn't."

"It's a gift."

As Diego softly munched on the opposite end of the fish Shira held for him, the discomfort of the situation amplified. The activity of feeding in such a manner among sabers was considered…intimate, utterly adverse to the actual feelings of the two individuals at the moment. However, as Shira's mouth was drawn closer and their eyes caught each other's more often, Diego could not help entertaining the feelings such a moment was meant to evoke. The combination of hormones, boredom, and frustration at being unable to feed himself provoked his mind to mischief. Shira, obviously wishing to stay as far away as possible, began to pull away with the tail of the fish, but paused as Diego reached up for a final bite. Instead he delicately licked a few scales from her cheek. She reeled back as she hissed and swatted at him, ears flat and eyes wide. He chuckled.

"Hmmm…you taste like fish."

Shira, now surprisingly calm, returned with a new fish and a strange glint in her eye.

"Want some more?"

Diego opened his mouth suspiciously. She slowly drooped it closer, and then let it fall, laughing as Diego coughed to get the asphyxiating morsel from his throat.

"At least I don't choke on my own jokes."

In a rare concession, he gave no retort as he spit the fish back to the floor and listened to the smug giggles of revenge. However, her mirth was drowned by an abrupt jolt of the ship and the foreboding rumble of the depths underneath it. The sea would have the last laugh.