Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! As crazy as it sounds, my computer had to be replaced again. I hate technology. Getting hopelessly addicted to House aided in my procrastination, but here is Chapter 32!


It was evident that Sagwa woke up especially grumpy for someone whose family had been reunited. She sat on her pillow, staring into the flames that blazed in the young morning light; ignoring the smoked salmon she was offered.

"Hey," Dongwa said inquisitively. "Cat got your tongue?"

He didn't receive an answer; and he didn't fight for one, remembering a warmer conversation with the statue in the Magistrate's yard. Eventually Sagwa stood up and walked away, not one word. Walking through the forest and cherishing her solitude, she let her tired mind go over the depressing dream she'd had; in which she and her Nai-Nai had been running through an entire fleet of oversized Yanbian, as the ground broke apart between them and the trees toppled. They tried to stick together but were forced apart by the kicking hooves of the stampede. Visibility was marginally nothing as the dust rose. And then...

And then Sagwa had climbed into a tree house. Alone. She found herself looking at a painting of the palace. It looked so real. Her dream self knew that it was neither the works of her brother, whose energy was focused on meditation; nor the mastery of her grandfather's tired tail, nor that of her deceased grandmother. No, her dream self knew that her little sister was the artist...which was baffling, because Sheegwa had never actually mastered calligraphy, let alone painting. And because, as Sagwa closely observed the picture, she realized it was moving. The paint was drying before her eyes, and as it dried, it became as real as it looked. The painting had surrounded her. She could suddenly smell the lilies in the pond, she could hear the frogs. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face. She had no longer been in a tree house in the middle of nowhere; she had been standing in the palace yard. Her sister's painting had become her own reality, like...the kitten from the story.

Why would a silly fairytale incorporate into her dreams now? Trying to make sense of it, Sagwa tried putting the past behind her. That's when she heard the childlike laughter. Stopping on the trail, she twisted her ears until the sound intensified, then walked in that direction. Her three nieces were playing catch. And it made her remember of playing with her own two siblings.

It made her immeasurably sad. The past was behind her, and she was never going to get it back.

While checking the area for danger, Sagwa noticed Fan, also watching the girls play. He barely moved, but there was a clear struggle on his face. He looked as though he wanted to participate—he even took a timid step forward. But then his smile faded and he turned around, walking swiftly back the way he'd come. And Sagwa followed him.

Maybe she was not as light-footed as she thought. Or maybe Fan just had good hearing. He spun back around.

"You should play with them."

Fan's voice sounded less like his own and more like his father's as he said, "Playing is for the careless. I have more important things to do."

"You want to. I know you want to."

"It doesn't matter what I want." Fan turned and ran ahead of her towards the camp.

He was small, she could have easily caught up to him. But she stood where she was, thinking about his words and the look in his eyes.


Already peeved by her foul dream, Sagwa's concern for her nephew dampened her spirits even more. She tried waiting for Sheegwa to separate herself, but only grew impatient, and was walking through the crowd before she knew it.

Sheegwa was laughing at something her mate had said. Sagwa's eyes narrowed as she lingered, fitting in with the pride. But not for long. She stepped out of rank and walked closer to the leader of the pack than anyone else dared. And interrupted them.

"I need to talk to you!"

"Not now, Sagwa," Siao-Po said off-handedly. "Whatever it is can wait."

"I was talking to Sheegwa."

At her tone, murmurs of concern swept through the crowd behind her.

Siao-Po looked at his mate in displeasure. "Handle this."

Sheegwa turned her attention to her sister. "You heard him. Not now."

"We're doing this now. I can talk to you in private or right here."

Sheegwa scoffed, rising to all fours. "I'd forgotten how bossy you are."

Sagwa wouldn't be distracted. "You're hurting your son."

This time, the crowd was quiet. Throughout the entire clan, all they could hear was the crackle of the fire.

Sheegwa finally scoffed and began walking slowly to her sister. She stopped only a handful of paws away.

"Get out."

"Do you remember," Sagwa pressed, "When Dongwa kept flouting his maturity? And how he kept telling us, I'm a grownup. And then when they tried treating him like one, he couldn't handle it! You remember?"

"I said get out."

"He missed childhood, Sheegwa, he missed playing with us. And he's so much older!"

"Out," Siao-Po hissed. "Now."

Sagwa began backing away, but her words kept coming forth as her eyes turned to Siao-Po. "You know, there's a difference between growing up too fast and being born old. It's unfair! You've robbed him of the best years of his life. All he has to look forward to now is turning into his father."

Sheegwa lunged, tackling Sagwa to the ground. The crowd surged back to avoid their claws and teeth. Sheegwa's eyes went wide as she realized her sister's strength.

"What do you want from me?" Sagwa groaned, her voice breaking with the effort the battle demanded. "What do you want?" Then they broke apart and Sagwa skittered back on all fours. "An apology?" she yelled. "You could have come looking, but you replaced us the first chance you got! Why do I need to be sorry?"

Sheegwa mimicked her sister's stance, trying to brace herself for impact. Sagwa lunged. And leaped right over Sheegwa's head.

The crowd gasped as Sagwa crashed into Siao-Po. He grunted as their bodies collided, and they landed heavily. His claws swiped at her as she sat on him. She groaned as they raked through her fur. She had to force herself not to retreat from the source of her pain.

Sheegwa watched, taken by surprise; finally reacting when she realized he wasn't able to move underneath Sagwa's weight. "Sagwa, get off him!"

Sagwa's ears craned back as she distinctly recognized her parents' voices in the chaotic shouting.

Then, with the entire camp watching, she lowered her head—and spat on him.

The shouting ceased. Gasps flitted through the cluster of felines.

Sagwa stepped backwards, and again, slowly stepping off their ferocious leader. He scrambled to all fours, fighting for his breath; staring at her in hatred and disbelief.

Then he began to back away. He spun around and trotted quickly out of camp; and a sea of countless eyes watched him go.

Sagwa turned with a flick of the tail and walked through the crowd. And they parted to let her through.