Sagwa managed to slip past the human's legs as he turned to close the door. Carrying the box that contained Fan, he walked towards the rickshaw and muttered unintelligibly to another worker who wore a different style of clothing. Then the man carrying Sagwa's helpless little nephew got onto the rickshaw, and the man with empty arms grabbed the long handles at the front of the wagon. Hidden behind the back rest was a little ledge. Sagwa could anticipate how difficult it would be to maintain her seating, but it was the only way she could follow the humans without sapping her energy. She burst out of the foliage decorating the dowager's mansion and jumped up onto the ledge at the same instant it began to trundle towards the road. As she curled one paw around the edge of her seat, Sagwa could hear no sounds from the little box.

"Hang in there, Fan," she muttered to herself. She curled her tail around the ledge as well and cast her eyes upward. The sky was as gray as the tip of her tail; and over the bumping and scraping of the wheels, she thought she heard the distant growl of thunder. The men called out to each other in Chinese. But still, the box was quiet. Sagwa had to wonder about the little guy's spirit. Was he plotting his revenge? Or had he passed out from anxiety?

As the time passed, she was suddenly overcome with a most uncomfortable feeling. Like she was going to lose her delicious salmon dinner. Was it motion sickness? She hadn't experienced that before. But then again, she had never sat sideways during a bumpy ride. She closed her eyes and hunkered down. And she hung in there.


It took forever, but the rickshaw finally stopped moving; and the world around her became audible once more. Relieved, Sagwa lifted her eyes and relaxed her aching paw and tail. As the man retrieved the box and stood up, Sagwa jumped off the ledge and scooted under the wagon to avoid being seen. The sudden sensation of still ground beneath her feet was actually more jarring than the rough ride. She watched his feet and listened to him say in Chinese, "This will only take a moment." Then his feet turned away and he started walking; and the runner's feet remained planted where they were. Fairly certain he wouldn't see her, or care very much if he did, Sagwa crept after the man holding her sister's son hostage.

As she followed him into the west, with the setting sun on her left shoulder; Sagwa's sensitive hearing picked up the sound of rushing water. Wondering where the man was taking Fan, she continued to veer off to the side, hiding behind anything she could. Odd, how it brought back memories of spying on her brother. And the mice... But now wasn't the time to miss them.

The man stopped by a crude bench, on which he placed the box. Sagwa slunk into the bushes and parted some leaves, watching the man take a moment to enjoy the view, and the sound, and the moist air. Now probably wasn't the time to appreciate the peace, either; but it wasn't like waiting for the man's next move provided her with choice.

Then, as the man pulled out a bag from his pocket and shook it open, all thoughts of peace fled her mind.

He opened the box flaps. Crouching and crying, Fan raised his eyes as he was basked in the dying light of day. The human's fingers pinched the scruff of his neck. He lifted Fan out of the box. And placed him in the bag.

No... Sagwa's breathing changed as she realized what his intentions were.

He turned towards the river, knotting the handles to keep Fan from escaping.

No! Sagwa raced out of the bushes towards the man. But even she couldn't close the distance between them in time to save Fan. The horrible human dropped the bag into the steady current.

As much as Sagwa wanted to, she couldn't waste any time sinking her claws and her fangs into his leg. She couldn't avenge him. But she would not abandon her nephew. Maybe she hadn't been an exemplary sister, but there was no chance that she would be even worse of an aunt. There was no chance Fan would die alone.

She couldn't waste her time. She had to catch up to him. Much like her legs, her mind raced as she thought back to one fateful day her sister had been bent on picking some berries. And drawing inspiration from her father's heroic actions, she barely paused long enough to retrieve a branch. Well, no, it was more of a twig. But it would have to do. Running alongside the floating bag, Sagwa realized something wonderful. And horrible. She could now hear Fan. He was...screaming. It almost sounded like he was speaking, but she couldn't recognize the words. And she couldn't tell if he was bilingual, or if her mind was mush.

Up ahead, the land narrowed. The water picked up speed—and roared off a steep incline. Sagwa increased her speed in a desperate attempt to cut him off. Veering sharply to the right, she let herself dangle over the swift current. Her claws sank into the marsh. She could feel it moving beneath her paws.

The opposite end of the stick sank into the ground on the other side of the bank. As the stick began to bend, she realized with a sickening regret that she should have used the branch to catch the handle of the bag. But there was no more time, no going back. Sagwa darted out onto the stick. The icy current sloshed around her paws and she could feel the stick bowing down beneath her.

The bag was going to hit her in the chest. Instinctively, Sagwa curled her paws around the branch and braced herself. The combined weight of the water and Fan slamming into her almost threw her off the branch and over the falls. Clenching the handles between her teeth, she lunged off the branch. At the same instant, it broke in half and disappeared over the edge. The marsh was giving way with a horrible sucking sound as she scrambled towards solid ground, slowed down by the weight. She could feel the water beneath the grass, pushing her back towards the water. Thinking only of her nephew, perched on top of collapsing ground; Sagwa stopped.

She slashed her claws into the bag. Fan yelped as they dug into his fur. "Go! Run!" Sagwa yelled, and Fan scrambled out of the wet plastic. No longer slowed down, and no longer helpless, the pair took off up the incline like rockets.

They ran up to where the grass wasn't sliding. A soft wind blew through the blades, making them ripple against the light of the setting sun. It would have been a peaceful atmosphere, but they couldn't hear anything over their heavy breaths and hammering heartbeats. Turning around, Sagwa looked down...and locked eyes with the man who had tried to kill her nephew.

She couldn't avenge him. He wasn't dead yet. But now, she knew who to hunt.

Finally managing to tear her eyes off him, Sagwa looked down at her tiny little nephew. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, barely. "Thank you."

"Don't shake," she advised him. "You'll puff up like a Persian."

They laughed breathlessly as they walked further away from the water's edge.