Trigger warnings: blood, panic attacks, injuries, one offhand expression about jumping off a bridge but please do not do that it's just a saying my parents used for years so I added it

Before the morning sun even rose over the farm, Varian's—no, Scratch, they had decided to name him— hunger finally got the better of him. If he was going to adjust to his new life, this was as good a place to start as any. He slipped back into Mandie's bedroom and dug his claws into her blanket, using it to clamber onto her bed. He then swatted her face with his paw and meowed until she woke up.

"Umph." She groaned and tried to roll over. He tumbled over her shoulder and continued to bat at her. "Whaaaat." She sat up and spotted the kitten beside her. "Oh, good morning, Mr. Grumpy. Finally decide to be peaceable?" He meowed again. "Okay, okay, I'm up. You hungry? You didn't eat anything last night, so I'm not surprised." She got out of bed and started to change clothes, and Scratch buried himself under her covers. Cat or no, he was raised with more manners than that.

He followed her into the kitchen, where she gave him a saucer of milk and some cold chicken. He scarfed it down quickly, having not eaten since the morning before. Not that he wasn't used to going hungry, of course.

"You know, you could always hunt," Mandie stated bluntly. Scratch meowed in indignation. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm gonna feed you, little kit. But you probably do need to start trying to hunt, or Dad might think you're not worth keeping around."

Hunt? The thought made Scratch shudder. He didn't know if he could handle sinking his teeth into raw flesh, to feel a heart beat its last in his mouth, to taste the hot blood on his tongue.

"Well, now that you've gotten me up early, might as well get started on the chores. Want to come with me?" She motioned to the door.

Last night, if given that option, he would have bolted. He would have run for the woods and tried to find his way back to Hector. He also more than likely would have been killed by some wild creature.

Now, though, he was attempting to settle into his new role as a pet, so he kept close to Mandie's ankles as she opened the door. They started out towards the chicken coop, the basket in Mandie's hand swinging by her side as she sang cheerily. The motion of the basket drew Scratch's attention, and he jumped up and tried to swat at it. As he came back down on his injured paw, he yowled in pain.

Mandie gasped and turned to him. "Oh, poor little Scratch. We need to get that wrapped until it heals. Here, want me to carry you?" She extended a hand to him, moving slowly and keeping just far enough back that he wouldn't claw her.

Scratch hesitated. His paw ached like the dickens, but he still had some dignity left.

Then the dog rounded the corner of the house and ran towards him. He scrambled straight up Mandie's arm until he was once again positioned on her shoulder. I wonder if this is what Ruddiger feels like?

"You two will have to learn to get along eventually," the girl chided them. She petted the dog, then shooed him off. "Go on, mutt." The dog hopped around her legs for a minute more before running off. Then they continued on.

The chickens were still nestled down when they arrived to collect the eggs. Scratch tried to balance on Mandie's shoulder and keep from disturbing them, but his careful attempts to keep from clawing the girl resulted in a loose grip on her. He leaned too far forward and slipped off, landing on the back of one of the hens. With a startled squawk, the hen sprang up and scrambled around the coop, the startled kit still on her back. Out of reflex, his claws dug into her feathers, only serving to further the chicken's panic. The others, frightened by the sudden action, stampeded around the enclosure.

A pair of hands suddenly swooped down and snatched him up. He found himself once more in Mandie's arms as she tried to calm the birds. Realizing the futility of the action, she quickly exited the coop and shut the door behind them. She leaned against the wall and sighed.

Scratch trembled in her arms. Just when he thought he could start over, this happened! He couldn't even be a cat properly. They'd get rid of him now. Maybe give him away. Maybe throw him to that stupid mutt. He deserved as much.

Soft laughter broke into his thoughts. He looked up to see Mandie's face, surprised to find a smile there. She wasn't mad? The girl slid down the wall of the coop till she was seated on the ground, the situation that was so condemning for Scratch apparently hilarious to her as she continued to laugh louder.

"That was amazing!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen them like that ever!"

She wasn't mad! The realization hit him like a chemical explosion. Maybe he wasn't a complete disaster. Could he actually make this work?

There was only one way to find out.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector was up before the sun, intent on resuming his search before the gap between himself and his target widened any further. To his surprise, he found Macy already up. Bakers rose early.

"Good morning," she greeted, the same wary tone she always had evident in her voice. Hector wondered if it was because of him or if she always sounded like that. Probably the latter, given the events her son had been through. "I've got breakfast almost ready."

"Thanks, but I'm leaving," he answered. "I've got to keep looking."

"About that." She but her lip in a gesture that reminded him so much of Varian that it hurt. "There's something I didn't tell you last night."

Careful not to appear to eager, he motioned for her to continue.

"There was a woman with Abraham when he returned. I didn't talk about her because he can't remember anything about her. It always upsets him when he can't remember. He's not back to the way he used to be yet."

"Who was she?"

"I don't know. She didn't leave her name. Just told me that she found Abraham wandering in the woods. She said she found him days away from here instead of hours like he said. He told her where he lives, so she brought him back. I remember she had face paint. And white hair, but she looked young."

Oh, you've got to be kidding.

"Thank you. You didn't happen to see which way she came from, did you?"

She nodded. "She told me she found him off to the northeast, which was strange because he went for a walk west of here."

So they moved around a bit then. Right. "Thank you. Tell your son I said it was nice to meet him."

"I will. I hope you find your nephew."

"Me too."

He left the house and motioned to Kiki, who was curled up behind the house. They hadn't wanted to startle the nice lady who could help them find the kid. "Let's make tracks. We'll search northeast."

They raced out of town and into the woods on the other side from which they had come. A few days northeast was the Forest of No Return. It was a good place to hide a kid.

O‴O‴O‴

Scratch quickly settled into his new life, far more easily than he would have expected. Maybe it was the way this place reminded him of his old home. Maybe it was how the girl was always humming or singing something that brought his memories to happier times when he was younger and innocent. Maybe it was the way Mandie's gentle hands found that perfect spot behind his ears.

The weirdos had left after the first day. Thank goodness. After that, it was easier to relax. The children, at the urging of their parents, were more careful when they tried to pet him. As much as he despised being touched, he tried to reward their care by sitting still and not flinching. As the days went on, it got easier and easier. He had almost forgotten why he didn't like touch.

He was still skittish and easily startled. The dog stopped messing with him when it got too close and found its nose clawed up. He accidentally scratched the kids' dad once when the man reached out to pet him on his blind side.

The third night, the weather had gotten too cold to try to keep sleeping by the dying fire. He curled up next to Mandie's shoulder. He did the same every night after that.

Still, his mind was screaming that this was all too easy. He never should have been accepted like he was: so unconditionally, so wholeheartedly. Then again, they didn't know his past. They didn't know the evil things he had done. All they saw was a kitten who needed a home.

As for his problems with touch, it was weird how quickly he seemed to get over it. He chalked that up to part of the creeps' spell. Maybe they had done something to make it easier for him. But why? The collar also ceased to bother him after a day or two, and he stopped scratching at it.

His skeptical mind tried to analyze all of this strangeness, but it gave him a headache. Eventually, he chose to stop questioning. He would accept these strange blessings and try to make the best of his new life. It was time to put the past in the past.

He wondered once or twice over that week whatever happened to Hector. Had he gone back to the Tree? Would he stop the princess from crossing?

Thinking like that always put him in a bad mood, though, so he tried not to. It was time to start over. Hector was going to go back to his mission, and Scratch was going to pretend he had never met him.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector needed to get back to his mission.

The Forest of No Return was on the way to the Tree. If he found Varian there, he could snatch him up and get back home before the princess with a month or so to spare.

And if he didn't find him?

What if Varian was somewhere off in the complete opposite direction? What if Hector wasted all this time looking for him and he was somewhere far, far away? Could he backtrack maybe for months to find him? What if it took four years to get him back?

We'll jump off that bridge when we get to it.

Right now, he had a potential lead. He would run it to the end of its trail and figure out what to do from there.

The hunters had been traveling for four days. Artemis and Riki had caught up with them shortly after they left the town, their hunt having proved fruitless.

The thought of perhaps needing to leave Varian, as much as it stung, left him with another problem. Ruddiger. There was no way the raccoon was leaving his human. He had hardly been separated from Varian's side this whole time after the rescue. Now Varian was gone, and Hector was left to take care of the critter. Ruddiger would never agree to accompany him if he left Varian behind.

If it came to that, and he truly hoped it didn't, Ruddiger was a raccoon. He could survive on his own, and he could keep looking for Varian. He was smart. Not wise, certainly, but smart. Like Varian. They'd be okay.

You absolute monster. How can you even tolerate the thought of leaving that kid out here somewhere alone? Quirin would never.

Yeah, well, he reminded himself, Quirin left. He put other things above the mission, and look where that got him.

Hector knew a thing or two about loneliness. He loved his animal companions, of course, but they weren't quite the same as the people he had grown up with. Eventually loneliness had shifted to bitterness. That they left, that they betrayed the mission, that they abandoned him. At first he tried not to give in to that, but there was no one around to see it anyway (except his pets), so why shouldn't he be bitter? Bitterness helped to distract from the loneliness, after all.

But with Varian, that had changed. Suddenly Hector had a family again. A nephew. Someone who needed him to protect him. Someone he could talk to and tease with and share stories with. Someone who saw the world through bright blue child-like eyes and made Hector want to know what he saw. After twenty-five years of missing the others, suddenly fate had seen fit to bring him this kid. His kid. And now he was thinking of leaving him?

But decades of service had taught Hector one thing very clearly. He could never have what he wanted. Ever. His every breath had been dedicated to the Moonstone for so long. It was the same reason he had lost his siblings in the first place. He was dedicated. They were not. He was faithful. They were not.

Service to the Moonstone came with sacrifice. He had known that since he was a child, younger than Varian. When he swore his oath, he had understood that he was committing to giving up any desires of a family or life outside the bounds of his mission. If his responsibility meant that he had to leave Varian behind, could he do it?

More than just how it affected him, however, was what this would do to Varian. He had no idea what the boy had been through. He knew it wasn't pretty. If Hector left, he was abandoning a child who needed help. Who needed protection. Who needed a family. Leaving him behind would be the worst thing Hector had ever done. Varian would never forgive him.

Hector would never forgive himself.

And yet the mission must take precedence. It always had. If Varian were to ever be truly safe, if he were to ever have a proper life, Hector could not let anyone take the Moonstone. Especially if "anyone" was that blasted little princess who could control the black rocks. She already had it out for the kid. The last thing she needed was full access to the powers she had already used against him once.

This is pointless. With any luck, we'll find the kid. We'll get to the Tree.

He'll never have to know how worthless I am.

O‴O‴O‴

The Forest of No Return stretched out in front of them. Supposedly impenetrable, it was the perfect place to get lost and never be found. Or never find your way out, as the case might be. Adira prided herself on being one of the few people who had done so, getting out on her own the first time then finding a map later.

Hector would never tell her, but he had written the map.

He stopped at the edge of the swamp to examine the tree sliced neatly in half and laying across it. He knew of only one blade that could make a cut that smooth and accurate. Adira had been here recently.

Charging over the makeshift bridge and into the forest, Hector motioned for his companions to split up. He kept Ruddiger on his shoulder. The raccoon wasn't familiar with theses woods.

It took maybe four hours to cross the forest, usually. To search it might take days or weeks.

Fortunately, their first clue came within two hours.

Kiki suddenly leaped through a nearby landpit, which disappeared behind him. In his teeth was a familiar-looking top hat. He ran over to Hector and dropped it at his feet. The warrior stared in shock.

"We were right," he mused. "Take me to them."

The bearcat growled and turned so Hector could mount him. Then they were off.

O‴O‴O‴

He couldn't quite pin down when his perception of the world changed. Scratch had been more than happy to immerse himself in the new life he had been provided. And maybe that was the problem at its core.

He was happy.

In the back of his mind, something wasn't sitting right. When he rested on Mandie's shoulder, an odd sort of longing struck through his heart, as if remembering an old friend. Try as he might, however, he was never able to pin the feeling down. He always ended up pushing it away, contenting himself with being around his human.

When the dad pretended to act all grumpy but secretly slipped him scraps under the table, he couldn't help but feel that he was forgetting something important, something he had to do.

When the children stroked his raven fur, when he leaned into their hands and curled around their ankles, the distant thought came to him that perhaps he should not be touched. He wasn't sure why, and he tried to ignore it.

No matter how he tried, though, his instincts kept screaming at him that this was wrong, that he could not expect it to last, that something was going to come and steal his happiness. Every good thing about his life came with a catch of sorts, a feeling that something was not right.

And every time that feeling came up, he gritted his teeth and shoved it down again. Nothing was going to get in the way of his happiness, not bad feelings or odd reflexes or the strange nightmares he got occasionally where he dreamed he was once human.

O‴O‴O‴

Barging into the clearing, the hunters were met with a familiar sight. The creeps sat around their mushroom table, the three-story house rising behind them. The only difference this time was the small cage sitting on the table and the slightly less fancy top hat on the man's head, courtesy of Kiki's theft. Taking in the scene in an instant, Hector hardly slowed as he leaped off Kiki's back and vaulted the table, slamming the man into one of the pillars of the porch and holding his sword to his throat. "WHERE IS HE, PSYCHO?!"

The man gasped and stuttered incomprehensibly. Seeing the woman start to reach into her pocket, Hector swerved his sword that direction. "Hands where I can see 'em! Kiki, watch her. Now WHERE IS MY KID?!"

The man tried for a weak smile. "My good man, are you absolutely certain you know what you're doing?"

"I'm sure. Don't make me ask a third time."

"Why," the woman answered with a forced casualness, "He's right there." She motioned to the cage on the table. Hector glanced that way, and his breath caught in his throat.

In the cage sat a small kitten. Its frame was battered and scratched, and its blue eyes, one clouded over, were staring off into the distance as if the entire world around it was invisible. It swayed gently back and forth as if in a trance.

"What. The Crap!" He shoved his blade closer to the man's neck, threatening to draw blood. "What did you do to him?"

"We gave him a gift," the woman said bluntly, as if she couldn't comprehend how this wasn't obvious to the warrior. "He's happy! Why would you want to take that from him?"

"He's a CAT! He's supposed to be a kid! How do I change him back?"

The man rolled his eyes. "I don't see why you'd want to. We've given him a perfect Utopia inside his mind. He has everything he could want. To break the spell, you'd be bringing him into a world where he's in pain. That's cruel!"

The words, apparently intended to make Hector falter, fell short of their goal. The kid didn't need to be locked in a trance. He needed to be himself! "How do I change him back?"

"The spell is two parts," the woman explained. "The collar turned him into a cat. Taking it off would bring him back to the way he was. The trance… well, that's a bit trickier. He'd have to want to come out of it."

"How can he do that if he's in a trance?!"

"Like Mother said, it's tricky," The man no longer looked threatened by Hector's blade. He was smirking infuriatingly.

"Make it untricky," Hector snarled.

"Unfortunately, that's out of our hands," the woman laughed cheerily. "If I were you, I'd forget it. He's better off the way he is."

Hector roughly threw the man to the ground and turned to the cage on the table. He was bringing his nephew back if it was the last thing he did. He split the blasted thing in half with his blade and gently pulled the kitten out. "Varian? Varian, kid, if you can hear me, I need you to wake up." He placed the little critter on the table and examined the collar. Maybe turning him human would help break the trance.

Before he could, he heard a howl of pain. He whirled around to see Kiki limping, his leg bloodied.

Where the weirdos had been were two lions.

Crap.

O‴O‴O‴

His world shattered around him.

Everything had been so simple. The strangeness he had been analyzing wasn't bothering him the way it had for the first little while. Nearly a week had gone by in his new home, and he couldn't remember a life before it to compare it to, so he was fine.

That had all changed when he tried to make his first kill.

He remembered what Mandie had said. He needed to hunt. And so he tried. He was out in the barn when he saw the little mouse scampering across the floor. Instincts kicked in, and he threw himself at it. Catching the creature by his sharp claws, he bit into its leg before he quite knew what he was doing. It was almost as big as he was—which wasn't very big—so it managed to wiggle its way away from him. He leaped at it again, this time catching it by the back of the neck.

That was when he tasted the blood.

Blood, covering his tongue, on his lips, in his throat. He gagged and released the mouse, who scampered away. The copper tase filled his senses, the harsh smell sickening him.

His mouth was filled with blood, his ears rang, the guard kicking him was saying something… He couldn't hear, couldn't respond, couldn't fight back. The stone floor was stained red. The sharp pain kept him from passing out, and he wished desperately that they would leave him alone, leave him to suffer in silence, leave him to fall into the dark recesses of unconsciousness so he wouldn't have to feel anything…

What the dickens! He jerked back in surprise, the scene flooding his mind at painful contrast to the world around him. Where had that come from?

And why did it feel more real than this?

This made no sense. He couldn't remember what had happened before the people had found him in the woods and brought him here. Where were these nightmares coming from?

No. There was a man, wasn't there? When the odd couple found him, there was a man with him. A man with strange yellow eyes, so bright and frightening and calming all at once. Yellow, like chemicals…

The guard held up a vial in front of his eyes, the soft yellow glow shining across his face. "What's this one do?" Varian twisted and writhed, but metal bit into his wrists and ankles, and the collar around his throat was strangling him, and he couldn't breathe—

"Varian!"

His head was pounding; his lungs couldn't pull air in fast enough; he couldn't breathe, he was suffocating! He dug his claws into the ground to get some semblance of reality into the jumbled mess that was his mind.

"Varian! Wake up, kiddo!"

His body ached; it felt like his entire frame was being ripped out of joint. Whose voice was that?

"Kid! Wake up!"

A sharp pain, feeling like a thousand spikes, racked his torso, and the world shattered.

O‴O‴O‴

The lioness leaped at Hector only to be knocked aside by Kiki. The bearcat landed easily, his wounded leg never touching the ground. Hector turned to meet the lion's attack, ducking under its giant paws and rolling across the ground to land near Kiki. The warrior and bearcat, in their element in the heat of battle, squared off against their much larger opponents.

The lioness charged again, and Hector vaulted over Kiki's back to swing at her. She dodged the blade and jumped back. Hector eyed the collar around her neck. If he could get close enough to cut it…

She seemed to realize what he was doing and deftly kept just out of reach, swiping at him but never getting close enough to strike him. Kiki and the lion tumbled across the ground, fur and grass and dirt and blood flying everywhere.

It had been a while since he had had a proper fight. Hector's senses were fully tuned in. He could smell the metallic blood mixing with the musty fur. He could feel every breeze as the lioness continued her attack, her paws swiping inches from his face at times. He could hear the yowling and screeching off behind him from the other two, along with the soft thuds as the lions' feet hit the ground. The sensation of landing on the hard ground, of feeling his shoulder striking the earth as he fell and leaped up and continued moving, of getting knocked aside bodily by his opponent and knocking her aside in turn, all of it sent a rush of adrenaline through him. He reigned it in, channeling it the way he had been taught as a child, using it to strike as needed without losing control or letting it do all the work.

Years of training allowed him to focus on his opponent while maintaining an awareness of his surroundings. That allowed him to hear the sudden screech from Kiki and the thwack that accompanied it. Whirling around in shock, Hector saw Kiki launch himself at the lion, who now stood upon the table. The two went tumbling across the ground again. There was one noticeable absence, though; Varian was no longer where he had been.

Dodging the lioness and leaping up on the table, Hector's eyes scanned the clearing quickly. There he was! The kitten lay limp at the base of a tree, where he had apparently been thrown by the lion.

And Hector's heart stopped.

His breath caught in his throat.

That was his kid, laying limp and broken on the cold, unfeeling ground.

"Varian!" He ducked the lioness's attack again, this time flipping into a handspring to land near Varian. "Varian! Wake up, kiddo!" The kitten didn't move. Blood coated his teeth where he had apparently bitten his tongue or something.

Kiki landed in front of them, growling at the lions. They kept their distance. Hector quickly unlatched the collar around the kit's throat. It seemed to change size in his hands, from something a small kitten would wear to something that could be placed around the neck of a human. A blue glow surrounded the boy, concealing him from sight. When he reappeared, he was the same small human Hector had grown to know and love over the last few days.

Only one problem: he still wasn't moving.

He wasn't breathing.

"Kid!" Hector sheathed his sword and took the risk of turning his back on his opponents. "Wake up!" He quickly pressed his hands against the boy's chest. He had to keep him breathing!

As soon as he touched Varian, however, he yelped in pain. His eyes fluttered open weakly, dim and unfocused. He coughed and spat blood from his mouth.

Hector breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive! He was going to be okay.

As soon as Hector dealt with the vermin that had taken him in the first place.

O‴O‴O‴

As his senses returned, so did his memories. They flew into his mind in a rush, assaulting his head with horrid scenes of that blasted amber rock; the princess who abandoned him; that cold blizzard that was replaced with a cold jail cell; the blood, the brokenness, the endless, endless torment.

The gentle hands that picked him up and held him close. The warm sun shining on him after months in darkness. The harsh voice that tried so, so hard to be kind so he wouldn't spook him. The feeling of freedom, of safety, of tentative hope.

His uncle.

He forced himself to look up into those worried yellow eyes. The color was not evil; it was not something he had to associate with pain. That color was associated with the man who had rescued him. Who told stories about his dad.

Who came back for him.

A strange sort of pain stabbed his heart at that.

He watched as Hector turned away, apparently to confront someone. He looked over and saw two lions, of all things, facing them. The beasts snarled and prepared to spring.

Hector reached up and latched a collar around his throat. He dropped to all fours as the collar's magic did its nefarious work. Standing protectively in front of his nephew, the cougar dug his claws into the ground and crouched, ready to leap at his opponents. His bearcat stood at his shoulder.

The lion moved first. He charged at the two protectors, and Hector jumped, meeting the attack midair. He twisted and clawed until he was on the lion's back. The bearcat—Kiki, if Varian recognized him properly—quickly combatted the lioness.

What the dickens was going on?

Seeing the collar around the lioness's throat clued him in. They were shapeshifters.

Varian spat more blood out of his mouth and pushed himself up against the tree behind him. Back in his human form, he could feel once more every cut, bruise, and broken bone. His left arm was no longer in a sling, but at least it still had its splint. His ribs felt like they had been crushed.

The sense of longing for the world he had left surprised him. Clearly it had been a fake, an elaborate ruse meant to keep him subdued. The entire situation had been a trap. They offered him everything he wanted. A home, a family, safety, a sense of pride and happiness. And all of it was an illusion. He shouldn't miss it. Shouldn't want to go back. He was better off here, with his uncle.

Wasn't he?

The creatures kept fighting, clawing, scrambling, tearing up the earth and each other with a fierceness Varian had never seen. Sharp fangs and claws, gleaming yellow eyes and tawny and gray fur, rippling muscles and iron-strong jaws, all blended together in a mesh of confusion as they bit and scratched and clawed at each other.

Somehow the lions managed to disentangle themselves from the mess and tear off into the woods as if the devil himself was breathing fire down their tails. Hector and Kiki, both covered in blood and dirt, stood panting wearily for a moment. Kiki started forward like he would pursue them, but Hector shook his head. They turned back to Varian and dropped to the ground by his feet.

Hector clawed at the collar, trying to remove it. Varian leaned forward and undid the clasp for him. As he shifted back into a human, he smiled weakly up at his nephew. "Glad you're back, kid." He extended a hand cautiously. No pressure, no worries. Just an offered hand.

Varian took it. They stayed like that, two injured humans and an injured bearcat, until twilight fell, simply being in each others' presence again. That was enough.

As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!