Altaica's Story
Part two: The Journey
Author's note: most of the characters in this fic are still made-up. Ocenir, Sarge, Trista, and most importantly Altaica belong to me, but Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, Mac (macavity) and all the rest who haven't been brought into this story yet belong to RUG. This is my second story in the Altaic series with hopefully more to come. Thanks!-Amber
Alta stirred in her sleep as the boat rocked violently. It was always rocking, she realized as her eyes snapped open, but this time was different.
She poked her head out from under the covers in the unoccupied cabin, sniffing delicately at the air. She glanced to the window for confirmation, nodded, and noted that it appeared to be just past midnight. She sank back under the covers and awakened Ocenir with a poke. "Yo, 'Cenir, wake up..." she hissed under her breath.
The large, multicolored tom groaned quietly before opening one bright green eye. "What is it, Taica" he asked.
She shuddered and hunkered down into the blankets once again. "Storm's coming, and it looks like a big one," she said, punctuating the sentence with a small shiver.
He raised both of his eyebrows. "Let's think now, Alta. We're in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during the storm season. There's bound to be one or two," he said, closing his eyes.
She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and flicked at one of his ears. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. I hate storms, you know that, 'Cenir! Besides, you know what I have to do when I wake up....talk."
He raised a paw to the heavens without opening his eyes. "Believe me, I know," he mumbled, his face buried in the blankets.
She flicked at his other ear. "C'mon, you sleep all day, and when I'm being a damsel in distress over here, you don't even open one eyes?" she asked jokingly. Her tone grew more serious as she continued, "But seriously. I hate storms. Especially out HERE, where there isn't any dry land to run to. Just dark, cold, deep, unforgiving water...lots of water..." she broke off, shuddering.
His eyes flicked open as she stopped talking, and he saw her unspoken fears in her wide blue eyes. Easing himself onto his knees, he crawled over to where she sat and wrapped her in a hug, shushing her quietly. "Don't worry, Alta," he murmured, "These storms are usually flukes anyway. But just forget that you're in the middle of the ocean....pretend that the rocking is from a human child's cradle and that the sound of the waves is someone splashing in a bathtub, and if you want you can just walk outside and there'll be dry land under your paw-pads..."she buried her nose in his thick neck fur as he continued, "Think, the sun is shining outside, and the first robin is making his rounds on the Commons and soon there'll be cheers sounding from Fenway Park and everything's normal..." he trailed off as her breathing became deep and regular again.
Careful not to wake her, he eased both of them back into the nest of blankets. Some time later, he hears her purring gently in her sleep, a soft, musical sound that blended in almost noiselessly with the waves and wind. He buried his nose in her headfur, inhaling he scent deeply. Adding his own deeper purr to the noise, he too drifted off.
If the storm hit at all, neither cat heard nor felt it. It was nearly eight o'clock the next morning when Alta awoke suddenly, her stomach sounding out the reveille. She smiled as she noticed that her nose was still in Ocenir's fur and she poked him gently in the stomach. "C'mon, Sir-Sleeps-A-Lot, the storm's passed and there's leftovers in the kitchen calling out my stomach's name..."
Ocenir lazily opened one green eye as he heard Altaica's voice. "Whassamatter?" he asked, his voice muffled by her headfur.
"It's almost eight o' clock. Can you spell Breakfast, boys and gils?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Ocenir laughed and pulled away, straightening up to stretch.
"I hear you," he said, dropping neatly to the floor, leaving a dumbfounded Altaica on the bed. She swiftly scrambled after him.
They crossed the small room to the doorway. As he had done the past few mornings, Ocenir leapt lightly onto a table near the door. From there he jumped to the doorknob, wrapping his paws around it and using his weight to turn it. The door swung silently outward, and Alta scampered through. Ocenir dropped to the floor and followed her. The two pushed to door almost shut and headed for the kitchens.
Some time later, they were munching on some leftover toast that the cooks had kindly left out for them. The crew of the ship welcomed the two felines with open arms, and didn't even mind that there were two extra mouths to feed. Altaica and Ocenir got plenty of attention and plenty of alone time, time to talk and such.
All too soon the journey was over, and the two were scampering down to the docks and onto the dry land beyond. Altaica could hardly contain herself, spinning with glee at finally having the dry land under her paws. She knelt down and kissed the ground, making a big scene for a cat.
Ocenir watched this show with obvious amusement, a large smile on his face. Alta was never one to be afraid to make a fool of herself, and now was no different. She lay on the ground for longer than she should have, and he began to get worried. Crossing over to her, he found her crying uncontrollably. Worried, he sank down next to her and gathered her in his arms, where she began weeping into his chest instead of the dirt. "Alta, what's wrong? We've made it. You'll be with your cousin again."
She shook her head. "W-why d-d-does everything c-come down t-t-to g-g-goodbye?" she choked out.
He hugged her tightly. "Taica, it isn't goodbye! When Sarge sends his word, we'll be going back to Boston. Remember? You promised....we promised."
She looked up at his face then, the patched face that she held so dear. "Come to the 'yard with me, Ocenir....they'll take you in, I'm sure they will..."
He shook his head sadly. "Alta, you know I can't. I'm not bound by blood to the tribe there, as you are through your cousin. I'd always be the outsider, and by your connections to me, you'd be defiled in their eyes. Besides, my friends are expecting me. But they live very close to the Junkyard, and I'm sure I'll see you sometimes. And don't forget, we're going back someday...."
Alta clutched at his upper arms and buried her head in his chest again. "Someday..." she whispered quietly. She choked the rest of her tears down as they silently stood and made their way to the Yard.
It was the longest walk that the two had ever taken, or would ever take again. Silently, for each was choking back their own tears, they made their way through London's busy streets and alleyways. They were constantly dodging humans and dogs and were incredibly wary of other cats, for when you've lived with Engle for the years that they had, you learned one thing: caution.
It was sunset when they reached the entrance to the Junkyard, a guardhouse where the guard had apparently gone home for the evening. Through the fairly large entryway, they could see several old cars and one incredibly large tire near the center. Ocenir decided swiftly that it would be a good home for Altaica in the months that they would have to stay in this dismal city.
Alta turned to Ocenir, the tears she had held in since they'd stepped onto land overflowing once more. "Everything does too come down to goodbye," she whispered helplessly. Everything that she'd ever known, horrid as it may be, had left her in the last month and now, the last remainder of her life was standing before her, and he was about to leave also.
He hesitantly cupped her chin in one of his massive paws. "Maybe so," he said, his own voice choked with tears. "But even good-byes have their promises. We promised Sarge and Trista that we'd be back, and I'm promising you that I will be, and if we learned one thing with Engle, it's this: always keep your promises."
She looked up at him still, her blue eyes pleading. "But we learned more than that....we learned never to trust anyone, ever, even if they are in your very heart. I love you with everything in me, Ocenir, but how can I be sure?" Her tears, hot and salty, spilled over his fingertips. Her voice trembled with the tears.
"Be sure," he murmured quietly before leaning down to capture her lips with is. The kiss held more than just love, it held a promise, and Alta knew then that he would keep his. He pulled away and she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she possibly could. He gently dislodged her arms from his shoulders, and he pushed her towards the entrance to the Yard. She looked at him one last time, and then she slowly walked into the Yard.
Ocenir memorized her appearance before turning and running from the 'Yard, running as quickly as he could to the apartment where he knew his friend made his home. When his friend came to the window and then opened the catdoor to allow Ocenir in, it was all Ocenir could do to stifle his tears. "So, Mac, how's the dreary London life?"
Back at the Yard, Altaica slowly walked around to the Tire. She stepped onto it without really knowing why, and called out, "Jemimah! I'm heah! Ahn'tcha 'round ta greet yuawh goold ol' cuz?" the smaller kitten poked her head out of a silvery pipe halfway up a junk heap and skipped down it, racing over to the Tire.
She giggled when she reached her cousin. "Alta, has you accent gotten worse?" she asked jokingly before turning back to the confused Junkyard and announcing, "Everyone, this is my friend and my cousin, Altaica."
Etcetera wrinkled her nose. "She sure talks funny!" she said a little too loudly. Beside her, Electra poked her and hissed, "Mind your manners!"
Up on the Tire, Alta raised a travel-weary eyebrow. "Who's da one tuawkin funny, kit, me oh yous?"
Etcetera didn't quite know how to handle this, and so she brilliantly shut her trap. Jemima and Alta stepped down from the Tire to begin the arduous task of teaching Altaica everyone's name. She had been accepted, it seemed, and although she smiled and laughed and flirted with the toms, her heart was a few blocks over, resting with Ocenir.
And so, the first of Altaica's Journeys was complete, and she had arrived at the Junkyard. She had no more plans and didn't plan on making any except for the promise she had made to Sarge, Trista, and lastly to Ocenir. After all, who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Part two: The Journey
Author's note: most of the characters in this fic are still made-up. Ocenir, Sarge, Trista, and most importantly Altaica belong to me, but Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, Mac (macavity) and all the rest who haven't been brought into this story yet belong to RUG. This is my second story in the Altaic series with hopefully more to come. Thanks!-Amber
Alta stirred in her sleep as the boat rocked violently. It was always rocking, she realized as her eyes snapped open, but this time was different.
She poked her head out from under the covers in the unoccupied cabin, sniffing delicately at the air. She glanced to the window for confirmation, nodded, and noted that it appeared to be just past midnight. She sank back under the covers and awakened Ocenir with a poke. "Yo, 'Cenir, wake up..." she hissed under her breath.
The large, multicolored tom groaned quietly before opening one bright green eye. "What is it, Taica" he asked.
She shuddered and hunkered down into the blankets once again. "Storm's coming, and it looks like a big one," she said, punctuating the sentence with a small shiver.
He raised both of his eyebrows. "Let's think now, Alta. We're in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during the storm season. There's bound to be one or two," he said, closing his eyes.
She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and flicked at one of his ears. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. I hate storms, you know that, 'Cenir! Besides, you know what I have to do when I wake up....talk."
He raised a paw to the heavens without opening his eyes. "Believe me, I know," he mumbled, his face buried in the blankets.
She flicked at his other ear. "C'mon, you sleep all day, and when I'm being a damsel in distress over here, you don't even open one eyes?" she asked jokingly. Her tone grew more serious as she continued, "But seriously. I hate storms. Especially out HERE, where there isn't any dry land to run to. Just dark, cold, deep, unforgiving water...lots of water..." she broke off, shuddering.
His eyes flicked open as she stopped talking, and he saw her unspoken fears in her wide blue eyes. Easing himself onto his knees, he crawled over to where she sat and wrapped her in a hug, shushing her quietly. "Don't worry, Alta," he murmured, "These storms are usually flukes anyway. But just forget that you're in the middle of the ocean....pretend that the rocking is from a human child's cradle and that the sound of the waves is someone splashing in a bathtub, and if you want you can just walk outside and there'll be dry land under your paw-pads..."she buried her nose in his thick neck fur as he continued, "Think, the sun is shining outside, and the first robin is making his rounds on the Commons and soon there'll be cheers sounding from Fenway Park and everything's normal..." he trailed off as her breathing became deep and regular again.
Careful not to wake her, he eased both of them back into the nest of blankets. Some time later, he hears her purring gently in her sleep, a soft, musical sound that blended in almost noiselessly with the waves and wind. He buried his nose in her headfur, inhaling he scent deeply. Adding his own deeper purr to the noise, he too drifted off.
If the storm hit at all, neither cat heard nor felt it. It was nearly eight o'clock the next morning when Alta awoke suddenly, her stomach sounding out the reveille. She smiled as she noticed that her nose was still in Ocenir's fur and she poked him gently in the stomach. "C'mon, Sir-Sleeps-A-Lot, the storm's passed and there's leftovers in the kitchen calling out my stomach's name..."
Ocenir lazily opened one green eye as he heard Altaica's voice. "Whassamatter?" he asked, his voice muffled by her headfur.
"It's almost eight o' clock. Can you spell Breakfast, boys and gils?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Ocenir laughed and pulled away, straightening up to stretch.
"I hear you," he said, dropping neatly to the floor, leaving a dumbfounded Altaica on the bed. She swiftly scrambled after him.
They crossed the small room to the doorway. As he had done the past few mornings, Ocenir leapt lightly onto a table near the door. From there he jumped to the doorknob, wrapping his paws around it and using his weight to turn it. The door swung silently outward, and Alta scampered through. Ocenir dropped to the floor and followed her. The two pushed to door almost shut and headed for the kitchens.
Some time later, they were munching on some leftover toast that the cooks had kindly left out for them. The crew of the ship welcomed the two felines with open arms, and didn't even mind that there were two extra mouths to feed. Altaica and Ocenir got plenty of attention and plenty of alone time, time to talk and such.
All too soon the journey was over, and the two were scampering down to the docks and onto the dry land beyond. Altaica could hardly contain herself, spinning with glee at finally having the dry land under her paws. She knelt down and kissed the ground, making a big scene for a cat.
Ocenir watched this show with obvious amusement, a large smile on his face. Alta was never one to be afraid to make a fool of herself, and now was no different. She lay on the ground for longer than she should have, and he began to get worried. Crossing over to her, he found her crying uncontrollably. Worried, he sank down next to her and gathered her in his arms, where she began weeping into his chest instead of the dirt. "Alta, what's wrong? We've made it. You'll be with your cousin again."
She shook her head. "W-why d-d-does everything c-come down t-t-to g-g-goodbye?" she choked out.
He hugged her tightly. "Taica, it isn't goodbye! When Sarge sends his word, we'll be going back to Boston. Remember? You promised....we promised."
She looked up at his face then, the patched face that she held so dear. "Come to the 'yard with me, Ocenir....they'll take you in, I'm sure they will..."
He shook his head sadly. "Alta, you know I can't. I'm not bound by blood to the tribe there, as you are through your cousin. I'd always be the outsider, and by your connections to me, you'd be defiled in their eyes. Besides, my friends are expecting me. But they live very close to the Junkyard, and I'm sure I'll see you sometimes. And don't forget, we're going back someday...."
Alta clutched at his upper arms and buried her head in his chest again. "Someday..." she whispered quietly. She choked the rest of her tears down as they silently stood and made their way to the Yard.
It was the longest walk that the two had ever taken, or would ever take again. Silently, for each was choking back their own tears, they made their way through London's busy streets and alleyways. They were constantly dodging humans and dogs and were incredibly wary of other cats, for when you've lived with Engle for the years that they had, you learned one thing: caution.
It was sunset when they reached the entrance to the Junkyard, a guardhouse where the guard had apparently gone home for the evening. Through the fairly large entryway, they could see several old cars and one incredibly large tire near the center. Ocenir decided swiftly that it would be a good home for Altaica in the months that they would have to stay in this dismal city.
Alta turned to Ocenir, the tears she had held in since they'd stepped onto land overflowing once more. "Everything does too come down to goodbye," she whispered helplessly. Everything that she'd ever known, horrid as it may be, had left her in the last month and now, the last remainder of her life was standing before her, and he was about to leave also.
He hesitantly cupped her chin in one of his massive paws. "Maybe so," he said, his own voice choked with tears. "But even good-byes have their promises. We promised Sarge and Trista that we'd be back, and I'm promising you that I will be, and if we learned one thing with Engle, it's this: always keep your promises."
She looked up at him still, her blue eyes pleading. "But we learned more than that....we learned never to trust anyone, ever, even if they are in your very heart. I love you with everything in me, Ocenir, but how can I be sure?" Her tears, hot and salty, spilled over his fingertips. Her voice trembled with the tears.
"Be sure," he murmured quietly before leaning down to capture her lips with is. The kiss held more than just love, it held a promise, and Alta knew then that he would keep his. He pulled away and she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she possibly could. He gently dislodged her arms from his shoulders, and he pushed her towards the entrance to the Yard. She looked at him one last time, and then she slowly walked into the Yard.
Ocenir memorized her appearance before turning and running from the 'Yard, running as quickly as he could to the apartment where he knew his friend made his home. When his friend came to the window and then opened the catdoor to allow Ocenir in, it was all Ocenir could do to stifle his tears. "So, Mac, how's the dreary London life?"
Back at the Yard, Altaica slowly walked around to the Tire. She stepped onto it without really knowing why, and called out, "Jemimah! I'm heah! Ahn'tcha 'round ta greet yuawh goold ol' cuz?" the smaller kitten poked her head out of a silvery pipe halfway up a junk heap and skipped down it, racing over to the Tire.
She giggled when she reached her cousin. "Alta, has you accent gotten worse?" she asked jokingly before turning back to the confused Junkyard and announcing, "Everyone, this is my friend and my cousin, Altaica."
Etcetera wrinkled her nose. "She sure talks funny!" she said a little too loudly. Beside her, Electra poked her and hissed, "Mind your manners!"
Up on the Tire, Alta raised a travel-weary eyebrow. "Who's da one tuawkin funny, kit, me oh yous?"
Etcetera didn't quite know how to handle this, and so she brilliantly shut her trap. Jemima and Alta stepped down from the Tire to begin the arduous task of teaching Altaica everyone's name. She had been accepted, it seemed, and although she smiled and laughed and flirted with the toms, her heart was a few blocks over, resting with Ocenir.
And so, the first of Altaica's Journeys was complete, and she had arrived at the Junkyard. She had no more plans and didn't plan on making any except for the promise she had made to Sarge, Trista, and lastly to Ocenir. After all, who knew what tomorrow would bring?