A/N: W00t! Only four more days until voting for Narnia Fanfiction Revolution's Awards voting closes! Be sure to vote for us by the link at the top of our profile page! (Won't you all be glad when I stop bugging? I will be.)

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Enna woke to a sound she had not heard in months—birds. The sun shone on the red roof of the tent, lighting everything inside with a pinkish tint, and the tentative, yet gay, warbles of early newcomers sounded from the bare trees around the camp.

Stretching, Enna sat up and rubbed at her scratchy eyes, the scab on her cheek uncomfortably stiff. Queen Lucy had already woken and dressed, judging by the nearby neat bundle of bedding, ready to be packed away for another day's travel; against the cloth wall were cast shadows of Narnians passing by with their arms full, pulling down camp and preparing to do their king's bidding. She had slept much too late.

When Enna emerged from the sleep-warmed little tent, blinking in the bright sunshine, Lord Lorendo, his red hair wild and his ermine cloak thrown back from his shoulders, stopped and bowed low.

"Is today not a beautiful morn, my lady?"

"Aye," Enna replied, her arrows rattling in her quiver as she curtsied. "'Tis."

Lorendo scratched his horse's ears. "I daresay Spring has unfurled her battle banners and beaten Winter's armies back!"

Enna smiled. "It is very nice, indeed. The air is warm."

"The first day of spring, I should warrant. But—His Majesty the high king will wish to take full advantage of the warmth. I suggest milady readies herself for more travel."

"Aye. Thank you, Lord Lorendo."

The Nymrunian bowed low and led his horse away, and Enna went off in search of breakfast. At the smoldering fire where a red-faced Dwarf sat stirring a pot of mush, she found Aramir and King Edmund, looking nearly identical as the two dark-haired young men hungrily shoved spoonfuls of the food into their mouths.

"Good morning, sire," Enna said. "Good morning, Aramir."

They both mumbled a distracted greeting.

Grinning to herself, she took some mush from the Dwarf and sat next to Aramir on the ground, the damp mud immediately beginning to seep through her skirts. "Lord Lorendo thinks that spring is upon us."

"At long last," King Edmund said around a mouthful. "I was beginning to fear another Hundred Years' Winter, Aslan forbid. But it seems as though he has granted us a warm day."

"The trees are starting to bloom already," Aramir noted.

Enna looked around. Indeed, little white blossoms and soft green buds were forming on what had yesterday been dead twigs! "How curious! In Galma, it takes weeks for the trees to open."

"This is Narnia," King Edmund replied. "Here, our flora remember so vividly the H.Y.W. that, the moment a warm spell falls, they begin to stir and wake themselves. In a day or so, I think the countryside will be in full flower. See? The hillsides are already turning green."

"Really? Oh, I have so wanted to see a Narnian spring…"

"If only it weren't from the back of a warhorse," Aramir said dryly.

"How true," King Edmund said thickly, swallowing a mouthful of mush.

Aramir nodded, then nudged Enna with his elbow. "Look! A cat approaches. I did not know they had them here in Narnia."

"I suppose it is a Talking Cat," Enna replied, smiling at the sight of the orange, pink-nosed creature. How dearly she had loved the small rat-catchers that tumbled about in the ship storehouses on Galma!

"Well met, good sir cat," said King Edmund as the puss approached, its tail waving jauntily in the air. "How do you do?"

It simply meowed.

"I think it is a Dumb Beast," the king said. "A Talking Beast would not address his king in that manner."

Enna reached forward and petted the cat's head, and it nudged her wrist with its nose, mewling softly. "Oh, but it is sweet."

Aramir tucked his calloused hand behind the cat's front leg and scratched its soft white belly, and it immediately lolled over on its side, purring loudly. Enna laughed. "He is very clean, for a dumb beast, don't you think?"

"Aye, and very soft!"

The cat batted at Enna's fingers, and she smiled, playing with its white paws. "I wonder where it came from."

"I have never seen it before," King Edmund said, peering at it. "And I never forget faces—even those of beasts."

It mewed just then, and Enna, in a burst of homesickness, scooped it up in her arms and cuddled it close, its soft orange fur familiar against her skin. "Hello, sir puss…where have you come from?"

Aramir scratched its ears and it pushed back on his hand, purring noisily and vibrating in Enna's arms. "It seems very tame."

"Does it not?" Enna dangled her plait above its paws, and it cuffed it back and forth, keeping its long white claws retracted into its fur. "It is very healthy."

"Aye. And it does know how to play."

As Aramir spoke, the cat caught Enna's braid in its claws and promptly bit the leather thong tying it together right out! Enna laughed and went to tug it from its mouth, but before she could, it leapt from her arms and darted away. "Oh, no!" she cried, trying to keep from laughing. "I have nothing else to tie my hair with!"

"You'd better hurry if you wish to catch him," King Edmund said as the tabby disappeared between a row of tents.

Enna huffed a sigh and picked up her skirts to give pursuit, Aramir at her heels. It was harder running through a camp than it was to walk, they soon found, as it was much more difficult to avoid collisions with creatures wearing heavy armor when traveling at high speeds. But always, no matter what, the orange tail of the tabby cat was just ahead, waving tauntingly from around tents and behind Narnians. Eventually, it led the pair to the outskirts of camp, to the edge of the forest that blanketed their side of the hill, and Aramir paused.

"Enna, are you quite sure you should chase the cat up the hill? It's quite a ways, and you might get lost…"

"I won't have my hair in my face the whole campaign, Aramir," Enna called back, hurrying into the forest.

She heard Aramir sigh, but he followed her after another moment, and quickly overtook her, his footsteps muffled by the thick needles and leaves carpeting the forest floor. The sounds of camp faded quickly away behind them, and there were soon only the sounds of Enna's skirt brushing the leaves and their own labored breathing.

"It's rather darker in here, isn't it," Aramir noted.

"Aye. And see? There is no snow. At least, not much."

"All this for a cord."

"Aye." Enna tossed her unruly hair. "I can hardly stand it as it is—I must have that tie, or I shall be blinded the rest of the journey."

"Could we not have asked someone else for one?"

Enna looked at him. "Well, why didn't you present that suggestion a bit earlier?"

"I didn't think of it until now."

"Well, we're here now—we might as well try to find that rascal cat."

Aramir sighed again and the two fell silent, the hillside steep and their breath short. The terrain soon became noticeably different: rocks, big and moss-covered, began to take the place of the soft, squishy mud, and Enna tripped more than once over roots hidden in clefts of rock and dirt.

Fifteen long, quiet minutes passed, and there was no sign of the cat. "We must be near the top now," Aramir panted, even his long legs tired by the trek.

"Perhaps," Enna replied unevenly, clutching a stitch in her side.

"I'll strike you a deal. When we reach the top, and there is no sign of that blasted animal, then we will turn around and go back downhill."

"All right."

"And don't arg—" Aramir stopped. "Why aren't you arguing?"

Enna looked at him quizzically. "Must I always argue? You spoke sense."

Aramir blinked. "I see."

They continued on in silence, Enna musing over his words. Was he really that surprised that she did not bicker? Was she truly that argumentative? Hmm. Perhaps it would behoove me to be a bit less quarrelsome.

There came a rustle from somewhere to the right just then, and Enna sighed. "Here it is. Come out from the bush, sir kitty. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty—!"

The rustling sound came again, loudly, and something that sounded like heavy breathing.

"That doesn't sound like a cat, Enna…"

Enna took a step backwards, coming to an abrupt stop against Aramir's solid chest. "What do you suppose it is?"

"I'd rather not think about it, to be honest."

But, as it turned out, they would have to even if Aramir wasn't all that keen about doing so. A bear, its big heavy paws stomping on the thickly carpeted ground and its huge head swinging to and fro between its shoulders, shuffled from behind an ancient evergreen, its breath snorting from wide, black nostrils.

Aramir drew Arondight slowly from its sheath, the steel rasping loudly in the clearing. The bear snorted and stiffened at the sound, and Aramir stepped possessively in front of Enna, nudging her backwards, his knuckles white around the sword's hilt.

"Go back to camp," he said slowly to her in a low voice. "I'll follow as soon as the bear leaves."

Enna started to obey, but at her movement, the bear started and reared up on its hind legs, snarling. Aramir's shoulders tensed and he instantly crouched down a fraction, his feet readying for motion if the need arose.

Roaring something terrible, the great, dark-eyed bear slashed the air with its paws and took a step towards them. Enna leapt backwards a step, her heart pounding feverishly with fright, but Aramir stood his ground, his shoulders back and his mail shirt jingling as he slowly brought his sword up.

"Careful…" she breathed needlessly.

The bear snarled again, and Enna fought to keep her head. How could Aramir stand there, so calm and collected, when a thousand pounds of furry death was going to eat them as breakfast!

Suddenly, Aramir leapt forward, his sword out, and the bear swung a heavy paw at his head. Enna clung to the trunk of a moss-covered oak, wanting to close her eyes but unable to. Spittle and foam was flying from the bear's wide-open mouth, and its great claws slashed mercilessly at Aramir, who had no shield. There was a loud rip as one talon caught the hem of his jerkin and tore it.

"Keep your sword up!" Enna cried as his arm faltered and his guard went down.

Aramir heeded her word not a moment too late, for a heavy blow from the bear's paw landed square on his outstretched forearm. His cry of startled pain made Enna cringe somewhere deep inside, and his sword went sailing out of his grasp, landing with a thud in the bracken. The bear advanced on him.

Enna thought briefly about what her next actions should be, but every way she considered it, what she decided on was the most logical. She reached back and took her bow and an arrow from her quiver and fitted them together, hands shaking, and took somewhat reckless aim at the bear. The string twanged loudly when she released it.

She had been hoping and rather intending for the white-fletched arrow to find its mark somewhere in the mortally-woundable area of the bear's chest and-or neck, but, alas, it decided otherwise, and buried itself in the bear's elbow. With a knee-weakening snarl, it wheeled about and began to lumber back towards her.

Enna's heart was beating so fast and so hard that it almost drowned out the sound of the bear's heavy breathing. But something deep inside her gave her arm a little nudge, and, almost without knowing it, she fitted another arrow into the string and aimed it straight for the neck of the bear that was quickly advancing on her, closer and closer by the second.

"Enna, by the lion's mane, shoot!"

Aramir's shout stirred her into motion. With a deep breath, she checked her aim one last time and loosed the arrow. It went into the bear's flesh at the juncture of the shoulder and the neck with a sickening crunch that the targets she'd practiced on had never done, and the gargantuan beast stumbled backwards a pace or two.

Enna stared at the bear, and it seemed to blink a little bit and become almost toy-like before swiping weakly at her. Aramir, his newly-retrieved sword in hand, slammed into it with his shoulder, knocking it aside and calling for her to get out of the way, but she stayed in place, watching with a curious furrow in her brow as he completed the work she had begun.

She had killed something with her own hands. What a peculiar feeling it was! Of course, Aramir had done the bloody final work, but she was sure that, if left on its own with her wounds, it would have died sooner rather than later. An odd tingle was filling her body, replacing the numbing fear with numbness itself.

"It wasn't a Talking Beast," Aramir was saying, wiping his bloodied sword on a handful of leaves. "And it was very thin and graying at the ears…it must have been an old bear."

Enna watched him remove her arrows from the bear's carcass. They had sunk deep into its meat, and they came out bloody and flecked with bits of darker red flesh, and dripped a bit on its fur before Aramir wiped them clean.

"I think you'll want these," he told her quietly, the soft tone of his voice an odd contrast to the loud terror she'd experienced just a few moments before. Numbly, Enna took the arrows from him and tucked them back in her quiver, pushing her bow in alongside them.

Aramir watched her, his pitying face now rather dirty. "How do you feel?"

Enna glanced up at him. "Oh…all right, I suppose."

"All right? Or…"

"Yes."

He eyed her doubtfully. "You don't look it."

Then Enna remembered the informal decision she had made scarcely a half hour earlier to be less pigheaded. Biting her lip, she sighed and kicked a small pebble across the leafy ground. "I…I was a bit frightened." It was a half-truth—she had been terrified! And she still was!—but Aramir didn't know it.

He briefly touched her chin and tilted her face up to look him in the eye. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid."

"It was a big bear, wasn't it," Enna replied with a weak laugh.

Aramir dropped his hand from her face, chuckling. "That it was. You were very quick on the bow."

"It's a good thing, too. You might've been killed once it struck your sword from your hand!"

"I suppose I have a bit to learn before I am a great bear killer like Colvin of Archenland."

"Perhaps," she replied. "But you are still a bear-killer, nonetheless. Now, come along. I must find that cat!"

"Must you?" Aramir groaned as she set off again, marching purposefully uphill. "We just slew a bear, and you want to find a cat—!"

"The crest of the hill is not too far ahead," Enna called back. "I can see the sky!"

Aramir grumbled and followed. "As soon as we reach the top, I'm heading back to camp!"

"Fine, suit yourself."

As Enna spoke, she heard a distinct meow, and a mere three meters or so in front of her, the ginger cat rolled out of the shrubbery, still chewing on her leather tie. Tsking under her breath, she took a step forward, and the mischievous kitty leapt to its feet and dashed towards the top of the hill.

"Come back, naughty grimalkin," Enna growled, tripping on her hem and trying to make chase.

The cat disregarded her scolding and perched on a mossy rock, delicately licking its white paw, the tie at its feet.

Enna, seeing her chance, leapt forward and seized the thing, and the cat put its ears back briefly before going back to its grooming.

"Have you got it, then?" panted Aramir, struggling up the last bit of the rise.

"Yes, at long last," Enna replied.

Aramir picked up the ginger cat by the scruff of its neck. "I have a mind to pull that tail of yours, sir cat!"

Enna hid a laugh. "Oh, put him down."

He did so, and the beast rubbed against his boots. "Confounded creature. I'm quite sick of its tricks!"

"Oh, you're not."

"I am."

As if in answer, the cat mewled and scuttled over the last mound of rocks, and Enna looked at Aramir. "You've frightened him away."

"I have done no such thing!"

"You have, and I'm going to see where he runs off to," Enna replied, and before Aramir could stop her, scrambled up onto the rocks. She straightened, the wind pulling at her loose hair and the hem of her dress…

And the red standards of the Galmanian army spread out in the valley below.

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A/N: Whhyyyy must I be allergic to cats? :( Well, at least I have a hamster…that oughtta be worth something…

Or not.

Hahahahaha! Another cliffhanger! :D I'm so evil.