"Well, I guess I have no choice now," Sheegwa grumbled, as she walked away from the gate. She turned her eyes to Wu-Ming. "You don't need to follow me this time. You've done plenty for me."

"Who hasn't? Uh," Sagwa added nervously, as all eyes went to her. "Sorry. You're looking for your son, I think it's great, and now I'm going to be quiet."

"I don't believe that for a minute!" Dongwa exclaimed.

"Hush."

Sheegwa met her sister's eyes with a steady confidence. "No, you're right. You've done more for me than I have for my own son. I'm going to change that. Maybe not for him, maybe not even for me; I don't...know what I think."

"You love him, and have maternal instincts," Sagwa said firmly.

"No, Sagwa. I don't. Song never..." Sheegwa hesitated and looked in diffidence among the alleycats. "Song never felt like my daughter. Not once. She was just another member of the pack."

"And Fan?"

Sheegwa shook her head. "No. I only cared about them, the way I cared about everybody else. Except―well, I didn't care about Siao-Po. I feared him. I showed him a respect I never felt. And now, with the pack...gone, I guess I'm starting to maybe tell her apart from...everybody else. And maybe if Song hadn't said that to me, I wouldn't, and maybe I wouldn't be going out there, either."

"Did you ever freeze before?"

"No. If someone screamed, I came running. You know, we didn't have to worry about humans or bulls. That place, it was separate, it was safe. And whatever happened, I could handle it. Here... It's scary here. It's not separate. It's not...out there," she concluded, gazing miserably past the bars. "I like being...gone. It's easy. Siao-Po was the leader. Whatever happened, I didn't need to handle it. There was always someone else. I had so many friends who had my back. Who looked out for me. And when that human came―when you took action." Sheegwa shook her head. "I realized I was less spoiled in the palace."

The sisters stood there for a moment, each at a loss. "I'm sorry," Sagwa finally said. "I didn't know."

Sheegwa looked at her. "I didn't, either. I thought―I thought I was doing well. I thought I was doing better than you. But when you ran after him...saved his life...I knew how badly I failed. I finally saw it and I... I am sorry."

She turned and moved through the gate, stopping cold as her wounded side brushed up against the rungs. At her rattled breathing, Sagwa stepped forth. "Wait. You should stay here, and rest. I can help. I'd―I'd very much like to interfere again." She hesitated when Sheegwa slowly turned, finally meeting her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"No. But I will be." Sheegwa inhaled sharply and flashed her a forceful smile. "I will be when I find him. He's mine."

"This is what families do."

"You've done plenty for me, too." Sheegwa paused, and tried to mimic her sister's friendly tone. "And if you want to help, I would appreciate it."

She limped out of the way as multiple felines came trundling towards the gate. Mama stopped beside her youngest, refraining her with a paw. "Stay here. Rest. I don't want to lose you again. I can't."

Sheegwa stared at her, breathing hard through the pain. "I can't just send you all out there on my account."

"Hey," Hun-Hun's voice was sharp. "Do yourself a favor. Don't slow us down!"

Sheegwa hesitated a moment longer, then retraced her steps to the gate. Slipping through the rungs, she leaned heavily on her good side, creating the widest space possible between the rung and her injury. Turning around, she looked worriedly at her family.

"Don't worry, my dear," Yeh-Yeh said. "We're going to find him."

Sheegwa nodded at him and smiled. "I know," she said―but she wasn't sure if her faith was in that they would find her son, Siao-Po, or something even worse...


"Been awhile since it was just the three of us," Sagwa remarked. She, Dongwa and Yeh-Yeh walked alongside by the river's edge.

"Yep. Another search, another Spring Festival," Dongwa commented. "You know, I don't care about this particular tradition. Why don't you abolish it, Sagwa?"

"I thought I told you to hush!"

He snickered while Yeh-Yeh peered at a blurry shape on the ground. The overcast sky didn't aid his failing eyesight, but whatever it was, was small and similar in color to Fan. He halted between his grandchildren. "What's that?"

"A bag, I think," Dongwa said. Thinking of Hun-Hun's baby announcement, he walked to the satchel and pushed away the stones to liberate the bag and drape it over his back. He didn't know how convenient it would be, but it couldn't hurt.

"Why do you need it?" Sagwa asked.

"Oh. Uh, if the search takes days, we can use it to pack fish."

"Good thinking," she told him.

Dongwa breathed a sigh of relief and walked to the water's edge to emphasize any point that deterred them away from the true reason. They rounded up some fish and stocked the satchel; then Sagwa glimpsed some fruit not too far away. They wouldn't be at the water's edge all the time, so they wandered to the bushes. It was slim pickings, until Dongwa thought to look closer to the ground. He was happily filling up the bag and listening to Sagwa mull over what Sheegwa had said when there was suddenly a disturbing crackle in the bushes. All at once, the cats froze. The conversation was brought to a speedy conclusion, and they sat on their haunches, peering over the foliage and vying for a glimpse of the fourth presence. The next crackle was disturbingly loud. And it was accompanied by a snort.

The cats scattered in three separate directions. Sagwa and Dongwa clawed their ways up neighboring trees, while Yeh-Yeh trotted to the waters. The only thing he could think of was what his son had said. So he plunged into the sea in a desperate attempt to throw the animal off his tracks. He took a deep breath and submerged his head, staring in fascination at the colorful fish darting away from him. Suddenly he thought he knew how they felt.

The waters above his head shifted and he could feel the current pulling him, as the shore made a hasty retreat. And all of a sudden the sandy bottom dropped out from beneath him. He looked down at the dropoff, plunging into darkness. His legs milled in the water as he fought for the surface. His lungs were beginning to burn.

His movements became increasingly forceful. Even the fish were a captive audience, knowing he was no longer a threat to their safety. Finally his head broke through the choppy surface, and he found himself looking at a distant shore. He fought to return to the beach, but the current continued to pull him further out to sea. He stared at the beaches, fighting to stay afloat; then his final view of home, blurred by tears and saltwater, was stolen from him as a wave rolled over his head and pushed him under.


"It was just me! It's okay! Come here, boy."

Sagwa and Dongwa looked down at the mistrustful dog, who was sniffing around the fish that had fallen out of the tree.

"Come on, Yin-Yang."

Reluctantly, the dog made its way back to its owner. When the pair were gone, Sagwa looked up at her brother. At once, they began to descend the trees.

"Where'd Yeh-Yeh go?"

"I don't know," she answered, and they looked around. "Close call," she murmured, as they ventured towards the water.

"Yeah, we sure got lucky!"