Quaxo decided that he did not like the nursery.

He did not like it one bit.

It was very noisy and made his head hurt. It was very messy and he couldn't walk around without tripping over something. It was very small and all of the kittens were bumping into each other.

And making noise.

He hated the noise.

He missed his mother's den. He missed snuggling up with her at night and reading stories. He missed it when she sang to him and let him watch her while she sewed. He missed the space.

Quaxo didn't like it when the other kittens touched him and rolled on top of him and jumped all over him. It made him...u-n-c-o-m-f-o-r-t-a-b-l-e.

None of the other kits were mean or anything. But they were...what was it?

H-y-p-e-r?

V-i-g-o-r-o-u-s?

E-x-u-b-e-r-a-n-t?

And had a much higher willingness to be social.

Tumble and Pounce liked to do nothing more than wrestle and backflip. Electra and Etcetera and Jemima just started talking and that's all they seemed to do now.

Talk and talk and talk and talk...

Quaxo frowned, laying his head down.

Did he mention he hated noise?

He hated noise.

And he hated fighting, even if it was just for play. He was far too small to keep up with Pounce and Tumble and preferred to dance. Ballet, to be exact.

They had asked him one day why he liked ballet so much. They said that it was too hard and that it took way too much effort.

"But I like it because it is hard," he tried telling them. "Easy things are boring."

They glanced at one another looked rather p-e-r-p-l-e-x-e-d, but left him alone.

And he was okay with that, being alone. It gave him time to think. To learn.

Aside from dancing, the one thing Quaxo liked to do above all was read. His mother was one of the few in the tribe that knew how to read because of the time she spent with her humans, and she had taught him the basics. It didn't take long for Quaxo to pick up written l-a-n-g-u-a-g-e, and it took even less time for him to burn through all of mother's books.

He often found himself s-c-r-o-u-n-g-i-n-g the junkyard in search of more novels (accompanied by an adult, of course), with varying degrees of success.

He was laying now, sprawled on his stomach, with his nose stuck in what was called a d-i-c-t-i-o-n-a-r-y. There were no stories in it, but there were plenty of words!

Quaxo was learning so many new words, like p-r-e-c-i-p-i-t-a-t-e and e-p-h-e-m-e-r-a-l and l-o-q-u-a-c-i-o-u-s and...

"Quaxo, Quaxo!"

The little tux looked up to see Etcetera running towards him.

Speaking of l-o-q-u-a-c-i-o-u-s …

"What is it?" he asked, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears.

"Ummm so I heard from Plato that 'pparently Victoria is coming back from Bus...Buso...um..."

"B-u-s-t-o-p-h-e-r?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, him. This afternoon, he said. Isn't that great?"

"That's s-p-l-e-n-d-i-d."

Etcetera frowned.

"Huh?"

"It means really good."

"Oh. I don't know any big words like you do."

"I can teach-"

The dilute tabby grabbed the d-i-c-t-i-o-n-a-r-y from his paws before he had time to finish, eyebrows furrowed.

"What do these little smudges even mean?" she asked.

Quaxo tried to hide his smile.

"Those are words, Cettie."

"Like...like what we speak?" another voice piped up.

He could see Electra's head poke out from behind her sister, eyes drawn to the book.

"Yeah, exactly. Every word we speak is written in the d-i-c-t-i-o-n-a-r-y. And each word is made of l-e-t-t-e-r-s which have different sounds..."

"I'm confused," Cettie interrupted, eyebrows still furrowed.

"Well I think it's cool," Electra retorted. "I want to learn how to read."

"Well not me. It's too hard."

Quaxo could smell an a-l-t-e-r-c-a-t-i-o-n brewing.

"Why do we need to read when we can dance and sing?"

"Because then we'll be smart like Quaxo..."

"I'm smart!"

"But you can't read..."

"Ooooh do you think Tuggsie will like me if I could read?'"

"Isn't he with Bomba?'"

"Where'd you hear that? That's not true!"

Quaxo sighed.

Was it socially acceptable to leave?

He was sure they wouldn't notice his absence...

"Quaxo?" Cettie squeaked, ruining his escape plan.

"Huh?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Ummm..."

She rolled her eyes.

"We wanted to know if Tuggsie was...well...you know, with someone?"

"How would I know?"

"Aren't you close with him?" Electra asked.

Quaxo suddenly felt really warm. He dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I dunno..."

"Is it true he saved you from a pollicle?"

"That's my Tuggsie," Etcetera cooed. "He's so brave..."

"...and smart..."

"...and handsome..."

"Can... can I have my d-i-c-t-i-o-n-a-r-y back?" Quaxo asked weakly.

#

The little tux couldn't be happier when word came that Victoria had arrived. She was his best friend, and he missed her terribly.

He knew it was important for her to spend time with her Uncle B-u-s-t-o-p-h-e-r, but she was one of the few cats that actually understood him and his...e-c-c-e-n-t-r-i-c-i-t-i-e-s.

Quaxo was aware that Munkus didn't want him to tell anybody about his magic, but he simply couldn't keep it from Vicky.

And she did promise to keep his secret, after all.

He ran out of the nursery to where his friend was standing next to her uncle.

Mr. Jones was...r-o-t-u-n-d.

C-o-r-p-u-l-e-n-t?

I-n-t-i-m-i-d-a-t-i-n-g.

Definitely the last one.

Tumble said that Plato told him that Mr. Jones used to be in the n-a-v-y and would fight off p-i-r-a-t-e-s and all kinds of bad cats.

"Used to."

He wasn't terribly friendly like Munkus or Skimble, but at least he was p-o-l-i-t-e.

C-o-r-d-i-a-l.

"Hello young tom," the hefty tuxedo said, looking down at Quaxo. "Are you here to escort my niece?"

Was he always this big? Or was Quaxo just really small?

"Ummm...yessir..." Quaxo stuttered, trying to maintain eye contact.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victoria stifling a laugh.

"Behave yourself, will you?" Bustopher said pointedly to her. "I was young and in love once myself..."

"I don't like her like that!" Quaxo exclaimed, hoping his face wasn't bright red.

Bustopher glared at him.

"I...I mean she's like my sister, sir. That's all..."

"Hmmph. That's certainly a shame. You're definitely more polite than the other hellions I've come across in the nursery."

He turned back to Victoria.

"I don't want to hear about you getting into any trouble, understand?"

Victoria followed the movement of his lips, and after pausing a moment, nodded.

"You won't, uncle," she signed.

Mr. Jones frowned.

"I really do need to learn sign language, don't I? What is she saying, boy?"

"Ummm...she said you won't," Quaxo responded quietly.

"Right. Well, I best be off. I don't suppose you know where my sons are, do you?"

"Alonzo I think is with Munkus by the tire. I don't know where Admetus is, sir."

"Well, two out of three isn't bad. Good day, children."

"Bye, sir," Quaxo said as Victoria waved.

The two kittens watched as the large tuxedo made his way towards the center of the junkyard.

"Alonzo isn't going to be happy you ratted him out," Vickey smirked.

"At least he has a father to avoid..." Quaxo murmured. "I wonder what my father was like. Do you think he had magic too?"

Vicky's eyes widened.

"Quaxo, we're in public!"

The little tux shifted uncomfortably.

"I just wanted to know is all…but I guess you're right. Do you wanna go to the grassy area near the fence? I have something to show you."

"Is it magic related?"

"That's why I'm asking!"

Vicky still looked unsure.

"I promise I won't set anything on fire this time. You know it was an accident, right?"

Vicky crossed her arms.

"Say that to my burnt whiskers."

"Please, Vicky? The only way I can get better at controlling it is if I practice. And Munkus is too busy these days and Tugger doesn't want to play anymore, and..."

And?

"I don't think anyone here likes me," he mumbled.

"That's not true. I like you."

"It feels like you're the only one."

"Miss Jenny likes you."

"She's my mother. She has to like me."

"Munkustrap likes you. And so does Tugger. He visits you a lot."

"But...what if he doesn't? He if he just feels o-b-l-i-g-a-t-e-d to like me? You know, because...because of the whole pollicle thing..."

Vicky nuzzled him gently.

"You're a little...weird. So what? I think you're amazing. And I bet he thinks you're amazing too."

Quaxo gave her a soft smile.

"Thanks, Vicky."

"Now, are we going or what?"

#

The two kittens traversed the junkyard, trying to avoid being seen by their tribemates. They didn't want any more rumors to spread. Or worse, to be followed.

The area in question was secluded behind some broken refrigerators, microwaves, and other various kitchen utensils in the corner of the junkyard, making it a rather convenient hiding place for one to practice magic (if one so desired).

"Alright," Quaxo said when they reached their destination. "So I've been working on a new trick: T-e-l-e-p-o-r-t-a-t-i-o-n."

"T-E-L-E...what?"

"Sorry, the word is a kinda long. It basically means that I can make things disappear and reappear somewhere else."

Vicky cocked her head.

"Can't you already do that?"

"Yes, but this time I'm going to try it on myself!"

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Ah, well... I mean, I've gotten good at controlling my bouncy ball and other small objects. I think it's worth a shot."

Victoria still looked unconvinced.

"Maybe you should try it on a mouse first?"

"How? We can't go outside to catch one and all the ones inside of camp have already been killed!"

"You can ask Mr. Munkus..."

Quaxo shook his head.

"He doesn't like it when I try dangerous things."

"So you're admitting it's dangerous!"

Quaxo huffed.

"Just once. I'll only try it once. And I won't go far. Just a meter or two, that's all."

He could see Vicky hesitate, clearly still not comfortable with the idea.

"Ok," she eventually signed. "But please be careful. I don't want to lose my big brother."

Quaxo smiled.

"Technically you're older than me by a week, big sister."

Vicky cuffed him playfully.

"Te...tech..."

"T-e-c-h-n-i-c-a-l-i-t-i-e-s."

"Yeah, that."

Quaxo stepped forward a couple of paces, and tried to imagine himself as his bouncy ball, or perhaps any other small object that he had managed to move in the past.

He flicked his wrists forward and found a sudden rush of air in his ears. He opened his eyes to find that he was not in the same position that he was in before.

Wait...

Before he realized what was happening, his body collided with the ground.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his leg.

"Well, it worked. Sort of...," Vicky signed rather sympathetically.

"Great. I've succeeded in moving myself upwards, not forwards."

"I thought it was rather cool."

"My leg hurts."

"You were flying for a second…."

"I think it's bruised."

"…Like a bird."

"I see it turning purple before my very eyes."

Victoria giggled.

"At least you know that you are able to T-E-L-E...oh, you know what I mean."

He shook his head, frustration building within him.

"I want to know what I did wrong. I can't fix it if I don't know what I did wrong."

"It didn't work because you are going about it wrong," an unexpected voice called out.

Quaxo whipped around at the sound. Vicky, realizing that Quaxo heard someone else, turned around as well.

The tuxedo kitten froze.

Uh oh.

It was Demeter.

The gold and white queen was standing, arms crossed, next to one of the many broken microwaves.

How long has she been here for? Did she see everything?

His first instinct was to grab Vicky and run. To put as much distance between himself and Demeter as possible.

But he was very small.

P-e-t-i-t-e.

M-i-n-u-t-e.

He wouldn't get far. Not that the t-a-c-t-i-c would work well anyway. Last time he tried running way, he ended up burning down a forest.

And crying a lot.

But...Demeter didn't look mad.

He wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"Did you tell her?" Victoria asked, her signing frantic.

Quaxo shook his head, eyes wide.

"How...how did you..."

Demeter made her way over to the two kittens.

"You aren't thinking about it the right way," she said. "You aren't moving an object. You are moving yourself. Refocus your point of view."

"But...how do you know that?"

Demeter gave him a soft smile.

"When you spend a large amount of time around a magician, you tend to pick up some things."

"Who? And...and how long have you known about me? Did you know about me? And if you did, why didn't you say anything...are you going to say anything..."

Quaxo paused, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

Demeter sighed, bending down to meet him at eye level.

"I suspected," she murmured. "Magic users...they have a certain scent to them. I can't quite explain it. But especially after that incident with Tugger and the pollicle…well, it was quite obvious."

"I...I had to," Quaxo stammered. "I mean…use my powers on the pollicle. It was hurting Tugger. I didn't mean to kill it..."

"I'm not blaming you for defending yourself. It's just….how? How did you kill it?"

"Lightning," he mumbled. "From my paws. I didn't even know I was able to do that before."

"Lightning?" she whispered.

"Is…that important?"

Demeter took a deep breath, and turned towards Victoria.

"Sweetheart, do you mind going back to the nursery? I would like to talk to Quaxo alone."

Vicky looked hesitant, glancing towards Quaxo. But in the end, she knew better than to disobey an adult. She dipped her head before making her way back towards the Junkyard.

Quaxo gulped, trying to calm his nerves.

A couple of seconds passed without Demeter saying a single word. It looked as though she was...what was it called?

O-b-s-e-r-v-i-n-g him?

No.

A-n-a-l-y-z-i-n-g him?

I-n-s-p-e-c-t-i-n-g him?

"What are you..."

"Your eyes," she murmured. "How did I not notice it before?"

"Notice what?"

"They look just like…"

She trailed off, looking alarmed.

"Quaxo...I know this may sound strange, but I need to know. How old are you?"

What?

"Almost five months. W-why?"

He could feel the a-n-x-i-e-t-y radiating off of her.

What was wrong?

Did she look…n-e-r-v-o-u-s?

"And your mother….," she said slowly, "do you remember what she looked like?"

"Old-mother? In the before-time?"

"Yes."

Quaxo paused, racking his brain.

He remembered the cold. And he remembered the dark. And he remembered...what did he remember? Another body. Another small body, like his. Was it another kit? And old-mother. She called him r-u-n-t. She didn't like him. She left him.

He looked up.

"She was white. That's all I remember. I...I don't know anything else. I'm sorry."

Another moment of silence passed. Demeter looked...he wasn't sure how to describe it.

She looked far away.

"Demeter..." he asked softly. "What is going on?"

"This is my fault," she murmured, mostly to herself. "What happened to you...it's my fault."

Quaxo tensed.

"Did...did you know my mother? What's your fault?"

And what is wrong with my eyes? And why do you need to know how old I am?

"Oh, sweetheart," she said softly, drawing her gaze back to him. "You have no idea of the horror that brought you into this world."

Quaxo could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He didn't understand what was happening.

And it f-r-i-g-h-t-e-n-e-d him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Demeter shook her head.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You couldn't possibly have known."

"Know what?"

She didn't give him an answer.

"Quaxo...I don't suppose you've felt a strong desire to...burn things, have you?"

Did she know about the fire? In the forest with Munkus…..

"N-not on purpose. I try not to but it's hard sometimes..."

He looked down at his paws.

"I try really hard not to..."

"It's okay, Quaxo. As long as it's not on purpose. Controlling your powers will take practice. And patience."

He felt s-u-f-f-o-c-a-t-e-d by the brief seconds of silence that succeeded her last statement.

"Demeter?" he finally whispered.

"What is it?"

"You...you aren't going to tell anyone else, are you? About my powers?"

"Who knows already?"

"Tugger and Vicky and Munkus. And...well, you now. But that's it."

Demeter shook her head again.

"I won't tell. For your safety, at least. And I'll be having words with him later."

"With Munkus?"

"Yes."

"Please don't be mad at him for not telling you," Quaxo pleaded. "He was just trying to protect me."

"I'm not mad at him...I'm just...I'm not really sure how to describe what I'm feeling. But I'm not going to do anything about it right now. It's a lot to take in."

"Oh."

She looked up towards the sky, where pink and yellow streaks began to form as the sun set.

"Let me walk you back to the nursery. It's getting late."

He didn't know what else to do but nod.

Quaxo wanted her to explain things to him. He wanted to know more...about magic, about his mother. But he knew she wouldn't talk about it.

Yet.

"Do you hate me?" he asked softly as they reached the entrance of the nursery.

It was then that she did something he didn't expect.

She hugged him.

He felt...warm. Warm and safe.

C-h-e-r-i-s-h-e-d.

"No, honey. I don't hate you. And I will try to help you with...well, with this."

Quaxo sniffled.

"Munkus said that, too."

"And you should believe him. He is a good cat. A great one, even."

"You're a good cat too."

She smiled, ruffling the top of his head.

"You better get inside. I imagine Jelly isn't going to be happy that you're missing out on dinner."

He watched her leave, suppressing the desire to chase after her and demand an e-x-p-l-a-n-a-t-i-o-n.

He hated not knowing things.

But hopefully, he thought, she will tell him one day.

Hopefully.