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Eyes of a Child

With everything explained to him, Gard sat in the shadow of a dead tree. He was deep in contemplation of his next move. Donalbain was in the area and it was either he would go to meet him or wait for Donalbain to come to him. The old grey-skin sat with his chin resting upon his right hand, formed into a fist, his divers scars and blind right eye showing him a veteran of many a battle. Snow white Donalbain was no doubt a veteran of many battles as well but Mumm-Ra's spell that had changed him had stripped him of all blemishes, making him look more like an alabaster statue brought to life.

Caracalla merely sat on the nearby ground, staring up at this Evabon. From the stories he had been told, the caracal had thought Gard a colossus. Yet here he was and he was unsure.

Standing up, Caracalla approached one of the other two kittens, the twins Kat and Kit. It was the former he approached, asking: "Is he really Gard?"

Kat gave Caracalla a look and then asked in turn: "Who else should he be?"

"Is he the one the stories are about?"

"Sure is! And the stories people other than ours tell do him more justice!"

Caracalla stared for a moment. He then looked back at Gard and said: "My father always said he was…" He lowered his head, looking to the ground for a moment. Perhaps not so loud. He did not wish to insult Gard but in truth he could not rightly remember what his father had said. All the caracal could remember was that his father had spoken negatively about him.

"Said he was what?" Kat asked. "Some kind of monster?"

"I guess." Caracalla answered, scratching his chin as he looked over at Gard. "But at the same time something more… I think."

"I'm Kat."

"Huh?" Caracalla looked at Kat and asked: "What was that?"

"I said I'm Kat. WilyKat!"

Caracalla stared as Kat pointed at himself with the thumb of his right hand. What was he supposed to say? He never really spoke with anyone outside of his family. What had his father told him? "Never trust a lion or leopard and never let a cheetah lord over you." What had his father said about wildcats? In truth, Caracalla knew not. There had not been many wildcats in his village for his father to ever voice any opinions about them. There had not been any lions either but that was a different story altogether. He had remembered being offered to play with some other kittens, ones who weren't caracals, a few times but always his father would but an end to it.

His father, fifty-one-year-old Septimius. Caracalla wondered whatever happened to him after the fall of Thundera. His father had always seemed so…

The arrival of Kat's sister caused Caracalla to turn his attention to her, a nervous look in his eye. "I'm WilyKit." She said. "You can call me 'Kit.'" Caracalla said nothing. Kit then asked: "You have a name, right?" Caracalla nodded. "What's your name?" Caracalla's expression turned from one of nervousness to one of pure agitation. Was knowing he had a name not good enough for her? Had she not heard Gard introduce him to the others? Caracalla mumbled his name, to which Kit asked: "What was that?" Again, Caracalla mumbled his name. "A little louder please?"

"Caracalla."