"You shouldn't have done that."
Sagwa looked at the Russian Blue addressing her. "I shouldn't have stood up for myself? I shouldn't have saved my tail?"
"The most they would do is scold," another cat jumped in. "A lot."
"I don't need to be scolded!" Sagwa said indignantly. "I'm their senior."
"Well, they're going to run you out of here because of your little trick."
Sagwa raised an expectant brow. "And?"
"And...probably make an example of you back here."
"See, right there. That's why I told them off; I'm not going to be an example. I'm not falling for the old let's go hunting scheme."
"You mean the old take me to Granny so I can mourn scheme?"
"A clever disguise. It's all part of the plan." Sagwa's eyes narrowed. "Siao-Po's plan. She's just...she's just playing Follow The Leader."
A Persian scoffed and stepped forth. "Listen...Pingwa."
"Sagwa," she hastily corrected.
"Fine. Catnip is not allowed here."
"I'm not on catnip."
The Russian Blue inquisitively tilted her head. "Why are you questioning Siao-Po?"
"Did you happen to miss the entire conversation?" Sagwa asked incredulously. "The way they looked at me...the things they said to me..."
"Sagwa," the Persian interrupted, "You're being paranoid. If they wanted to pick you off, you wouldn't have a place by the campfire."
"That's it? That's your reasoning? Somebody else can take my place." Sagwa began to pace back and forth, unaware that their conversation had garnered everyone's attention. "Six months of looking and calling, not sleeping right. And why? So she can try to take us down the day we find her. Six months of looking for her and she wasn't even thinking of us. She was thinking of you." She stopped, gazing distractedly in the direction her sister and brother-in-law had taken.
"You'd be surprised how little she thought of us."
Sagwa forced her attention to the cheerful brown tabby. "Really?"
"Really. She was always with her offspring, telling them stories about her family."
"You mean about you?" Sagwa asked sarcastically.
"No, her related family. We're just..."
"Replacements," Sagwa finished emptily.
"There's nothing to fear. They'll have a talk with you, maybe give you one last chance."
"What happens if I blow that last chance?" Sagwa fretted.
The Russian Blue smiled kindly and said, "If she was trying to take you down, her kids wouldn't ask to hear the same stories."
Deeply moved by the cat's words, Sagwa feigned satisfaction and ventured off on her own, looking for a relative...any relative. Her quest was in vain, and she came to rest by a gurgling stream. Comforted by the beauty of the day and the peaceful waters; she lay down, closed her eyes, and basked in the sun's warmth as she relived her favorite memories and considered her next move.
An-Lin crouched in the bushes, waiting to pounce. But she didn't know how she felt about attacking this particular animal. Very much like her, it was small, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed.
The squirrel just wanted to go about its day. But her parents had encouraged her to attack him. Though An-Lin and her sisters usually mourned the palace life they never had, their father would usually say they were all living differently now.
An-Lin liked to think he hated hunting, too.
She peered over her tiny shoulder at her parents. Hun-Hun nodded as Dongwa whispered, "Now."
So, not quite believing she was ready, but anxious to prove everyone wrong; An-Lin bolted out of the shrubs. The squirrel was fast, but An-Lin was faster, and she felt a swell of pride as she gained on the little creature.
Unfortunately An-Lin was clumsier than the squirrel; and before she knew it, she was sprawled painfully on the ground as the squirrel darted up a tree and into freedom.
Four animals with four legs surrounded her.
"Are you alright?"
"Are you hurt?"
She was embarrassed. She nodded profusely as they helped her climb to her paws. She took one step and buckled, cringing in pain. "Ow!"
"What is it?"
"M-my leg! Back...uh, back...not this one," she finished, stamping her back left. She plopped heavily, leaning.
"It looks bent," she heard Yuri mutter.
"Stupid rocks!" An-Lin whined. "It hurts!"
Dongwa looked at his mate and recognized the expression of concern, but it was mixed with...irritation. He spoke hastily. "I'll take her back to camp. The rest of you, keep hunting. I don't want anyone thinking we're useless."
"If you're sure," Hun-Hun said, trying not to sound grateful. Her daughter would be more comfortable by the fire...and she also wouldn't scare away all the wildlife.
"It's a good thing you're little," Dongwa muttered, and picked up his daughter between his teeth.
"Well, they have cats who can start fires," Ying-Hua mentioned, "Maybe they have doctor cats, too!"
Dongwa tried not to chuckle. He turned and began carrying her away; and during the walk, he made sure An-Lin did all the talking. Well, complaining, really; but at least he wasn't a father of twelve...
Dongwa placed his daughter on his pillow, somewhat isolating it from the pillow beside it. He didn't want her neighbor to bump her injured leg.
"Baba, this is your cushion!"
"I know." He smiled, mostly at the way being called Baba made him feel. "You'll be fine, An-Lin."
She snuggled in. "Do we have blankets?"
Dongwa looked around, but saw no blankets. However he did see his own father looking worried...
"No. No, we don't," Dongwa muttered, as he pushed her pillow closer to the fire. "Is that better?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Baba."
"I have to go check on something, okay?" he asked, and quickly made his way to his father. "Uh, what's wrong?"
"Well...not to make history repeat itself, but I can't find your sisters."
"Uh, Sheegwa loves fireworks; I'm sure she'll be back in time."
Baba gave him a stern look. "Need I remind you, son, that you have said that before?" He surveyed their surroundings again. "If there's one thing I've learned, what you're sure of doesn't always matter."
Dongwa looked at his mother. "Uh, Mama, An-Lin got hurt, and she kept telling me she wants a girl to keep her company. Would you stay?"
"Of course."
Dongwa looked back at his father. "Come on," he sighed. "Let's go look."
Baba sighed, getting tiredly to his paws.
