Chapter 8

And here is where you died, where I held you close to my chest.

Days went on, few by few.

The burning abated and a cough had risen up in his throat.

Aspenpaw laid in his nest of dirty fluff and counted the faces going by.

There wasn't a single thorn here to wake him in the night, and he missed the roughness of dry moss when he procrastinated scraping together a new nest.

It had been eight days, as he understood it from where he was, and everything was still all so foreign, even when the only thing he could possibly do right now was get used to it.

Roco checked in on him every day and replaced the thin clot on his ever-closing wound.

She was getting more comfortable being around, but still required Aranyer to be there, though in the last couple of days she had held back and left the two of them somewhat alone.

Today, she had said her first word to him, a quick, nearly inaudible, "Hi," before getting to work.

Rese was probably the cat that Aspenpaw saw most frequently, passing from room to room and never giving him a single glance on her way.

The cat that she had identified as Deya appeared just a few times, usually just heading outside for a few minutes before abandoning the breeze and birds.

Rese had certainly been right about her being shy; Aspenpaw had already forgotten what her voice sounded like.

There were a few other faces that passed who he hadn't been introduced to yet, and they always seemed to grow quiet when they went by so he couldn't eavesdrop on them.

Luckily, Jingo was around, the only cat who would ever talk to him.

She wasn't sleeping beside him like she did on their first night here, but Aspenpaw didn't mind.

She would bring him on to date on the going-ons of the commune in a vague and roundabout way, so that Aspenpaw didn't actually know what she was talking about, but still allowed her to talk to him.

Out of all cats though, he hadn't seen Apollo a single time.

Cats mentioned her in what little of their conversations he could pick up on, but no fur of her's had turned up in the room since he arrived.

Aspenpaw was well enough to sit up without pain, and tried to practice his walking every once and a while, usually waiting until he was far too tired to and then scolding himself for not having done it sooner.

He couldn't talk for long until the tickle of a cough slipped up his throat.

Through Aranyer, he learned that Roco thought he would be better in just a couple more days, but would probably still have the cough for a little while afterwards.

Rese had been placed as a guard for him a couple more times, presumably when Apollo had left through some second exit in the building.

Right now, however, he had been alone for the whole morning, not a single leg perambulating past for as far as his ears could reach.

He was at a complete loss as to how to fill the time, picking at the clingy fluff that made up his unkempt nest.

His boredom was matched only with the relief of his safety here.

Suddenly, a voice filled the dead air, "Still alive in 'ere, aren't you?" Aspenpaw felt an inexplicable joy at hearing Jingo's voice,

"Hey," He turned his body around to see her coming up to him,

"How's that fuzz been keepin' you busy?"

"Not very well," She laid beside him,

"Well, you'll be all better in not more than a couple days,"

"Yeah," Aspenpaw responded, and then Jingo asked him a question he had been dreading to hear throughout his entire stay at the commune,

"Where are you plannin' on going once you're out an' about?" He shied away from her peering gaze, feeling exposed, without any walls to shield him.

He didn't have any semantics to discuss, or witty comments to throw out, all that he had to do was to take a deep breath, and ask,

"Could you ask Apollo if I could stay?" Jingo looked as if she had been dreading this question as much as Aspenpaw had.

Her eyes lowered, her head angled, her paws shifted closer to one another, and she sighed out,

"As, we've had this talk," Aspenpaw still looked to her with pleading eyes, even as she began to reject him, "You're no more than a kit. Cats 'ere can't get out, an' their lives'll never be anythin' like normal. We've all got scars, and I know you do too, that's why I sang you that song. You can leave, find any other place in this world, an' you could heal. This city is alive, and it will tear you apart, inside out, and I would never forgive myself for condemning you to its whims,"

"Please, Jingo. Please,"

Please,

"As, I can't live your life, so if you've got no better option, I won't ward you off any more, but to live my life, I couldn't ever do that. I'm not sorry, not at all, you're too young to be making the decisions that will determine the rest of your life, but I 'spose, most o' them are too," Jingo stayed stoic, but there was the flaking of cracks in her wetting eyes.

Aspenpaw was absolutely devastated by her denial and turned away, resting his head on his legs, unsure of whether he should cry, or shout, or feel safe.

He was confused. He didn't really know what he wanted.

Jingo had been right about everything she said, and yet the most of Aspenpaw still tried to contradict her.

There was only one reason why he wanted to stay here, and that was Acornpaw, to continue this folly dream of becoming a redeemed savior in his honor, "You don't know her like I do, but you're a lot like Apollo, As,"

Aspenpaw didn't look over, but he pricked his ears to show that he was listening, "I delivered her on the nasty, unpadded floor of a slave room, where twenty or so she-cats were kept so tightly quartered that their legs couldn't move enough to even bust their joints. I even suggested the name Apollo,"

Aspenpaw could almost see it all in his head, or at least, his vision of these horrendous things, "I watched her grow up to serve, to be beaten, starved, isolated for misdemeanor. She didn't have a life until she got away, and she was left alone to pick up the pieces of what she could've been an' try an' grow a tree from a bundle of sticks. I tried to give her sanctuary, but that don't exist here, As. Past a certain point, she stopped healin', she just closed herself off, 'cause it was too hard to make emotional connections when she'd never been allowed to be alive before,"

Aspenpaw was fascinated by the story, but felt that he didn't fully understand it. Jingo kept going, "Don't tell her that I said any of this, it'd just hurt us all, I think, but I had to tell you 'cause I see you when I think of her. If you end up staying here, you'll know why you needed to know this, an' even if you don't, I think you'll find cats in further stages than you who you'll see yourself in," Jingo took a deep breath, before saying a few simple words, "I'm going to be leavin' very soon, As,"

Aspenpaw shot around, shocked and hopeless, "Message has gotten 'round, and the commune's bein' fortified for us all to go back,"

Aspenpaw wanted to argue, tell her that she couldn't go, couldn't leave him alone, but he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling.

Jingo had been the only cat in this city to treat him well, his only guide through the mirage,

"When are you going?" Aspenpaw asked, nearly stuttering,

"In the night," Replied Jingo,

"Tonight?"

"Yes, As," Aspenpaw sniffed but was blocked by his stuffy nose, hardly breathing in anything at all,

"Can't I come with you?" He knew the answer better than the question he was asking,

"You need to be able to find your own way, As, I can't guide you, I don't want to. Your life is yours, and after today, we'll probably never meet again, and you've gotta be prepared for that,"

It was a harsh lesson, but Aspenpaw did understand, even if he was broken by the rejection.

Jingo just wanted to get on with her life, and they hardly knew each other.

All that she had been there to do was to give him a push towards taking control over his life.

But he wasn't going to thank her.

He didn't have it in him, "I'll make sure to say farewell 'fore I'm off,"

Aspenpaw didn't see her go, he just stuck his nose to the cold stone floor and watched the patterns of dirt and scratches as his ears grew less and less useful.

Jingo was soon gone, and Aspenpaw realized that he was holding his breath.

He checked over his shoulder, seeing emptiness as far in the corridor as he could view, and if anybody else were around, his senses failed him now.

Once he was sure he was alone, Aspenpaw squeezed his eyes shut and began to whimper, slowly filling in his vision a pair of rivers, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, where a small pool was gathering until he swiped it away with an unsheathed paw, smearing and shining the misshapen tiles of cracked ground.

He was angry and upset and terrified about what the future held. It felt like it had been so long since he knew what was going to happen, and he just wanted to feel that one more time, if he was allowed nothing more.

His muscles shook with unreleased energy and his eyes were washed spotless by the tears,

"What are you cryin' about? What's wrong?"

Aspenpaw recoiled at the sudden intrusion and curled his head into his side like a stubborn kit.

He felt embarrassed by his vulnerability and wiped his eyes along the combs of his pelt before peering out from his craned position meeting the orator.

It was the white she-cat with the scars on her face, who Rese had named as Deya.

She didn't say anything more, waiting indefinitely for Aspenpaw to respond to a question he could never elucidate to anybody.

He didn't have the light to shine onto it, so he instead, realizing that Deya would not leave until she had unfolded him, simply told her,

"Jingo's leaving," The words came out dry and Aspenpaw had to cough to clear his throat, producing a large gob of phlegm, which he spat up onto the ground, watching as it bubbled and drifted meanderingly down the ever-so slanted room,

"Yeah, I think I heard that. I never talked to her,"

"Well I did," Aspenpaw started getting aggressive in an attempt to shield away his previous emotional state, giving curt answers in a low growl and dismissing Deya with his eyes, though she wouldn't budge,

"Where do you come from?"

"Aren't you supposed to be shy?" Deya looked amused by the question and stated,

"No, I just don't like talking to many cats. It's always a real pain,"

"Then what's so special about me?"

"You're a tom," She answered bluntly, "I've never been able to just talk to a tom before,"

"And I'm sure it's been a great experience," Their back and forth ended there for a minute, as Aspenpaw rested his head on his lap, his body entirely turned away from the prying she-cat. But she didn't give up yet,

"Do you want me to say 'sorry' that Jingo's goin'? I really don't wanna be makin' you upset, despite if I've been sayin' stupid things,"

"I just want to be alone,"

"Why's that? I'm quite a good listener," Deya seemed to be trying to boost his morale, but Aspenpaw couldn't turn this situation around.

He was on his own again, disguising himself to spy in on lives he couldn't ever live.

He was no more than a burned skeleton, wishing he could pull together enough flesh to pass as alive, "I don't think anybody ever lived here before. It's too dusty, too drab," Deya spoke softly, and Aspenpaw closed his eyes in pain. He didn't listen, didn't look, but soon the white cat was gone, and Aspenpaw lost himself again.

Black night. She was gone. He was there. He was alone.

Aspenpaw didn't cry this time, but he was certainly injured by Jingo's last words to him, a simple goodbye, and one final piece of advice, "Remember that you are alive,"

He had watched the entrance for many minutes after she left, hoping that she had forgotten something and would come back for it, but she never returned, and Aspenpaw's clogged nose couldn't even pick out her scent.

It was silent in the decrepit room aside from the city ambiance of coughing monsters and a buzz like cicadas above head.

Aspenpaw creaked open his mouth, ripping apart the strands of skin that had gotten stuck together after a long time without doing so.

He breathed in the cool air like water, swallowing painfully, his throat sore from the uproar he had felt when Jingo informed him of her departure.

He started to sing the song she had taught him, having memorized it in full.

It made him feel safer to hear it again.

He was nothing of a singer, but the painful labor served to stretch the sweet sounds out further.

The notes bled into one another, as if it was supposed to be sung in a single breath.

As Aspenpaw finished the song a second time, he finally heard some sign of life in this drab, tranquil place.

There were paw steps sounding along the corridor, where it seemed existed the real commune, Aspenpaw's room only being a transitional one.

The steps weren't particularly stealthy, but halted suddenly several times, as if their owner was stopping to listen, strangely counteractive actions in Aspenpaw's mind.

Eventually, they reached the gap between the tunnel and the floor of the main room, hopping down, and yet Aspenpaw still couldn't see who it was in the darkness until he heard them speak, quiet yet not cautious,

"Heya, tom, you up?" He recognized the voice, Aranyer stood beside him now,

"Yeah,"

"Good. Lap this up, why don't you? Medic sent it for ya,"

"I will," Aspenpaw's voice was frosty and far away. He was feeling a morphing array of emotions that wouldn't stay pinned down for a second, and he just wanted Aranyer to leave so he could sing the song again. He needed to hear those words,

"Alright, you might be a tom, but I don' like seeing any cat in distress. Now what's goin' on?" Aspenpaw looked up, despite not being able to see anything, surprised by the sudden consideration that the previously impassive she-cat possessed now.

By her tone, however, she seemed more annoyed and resigned than passionate, as if she was being forced into offering her ears to him,

"Jingo left," was all he said, the same answer that he had given Deya,

"Already?" Aspenpaw didn't answer this time, and let Aranyer speak longer, "I reckoned she'd take you with her when she went," A small breeze blew into the room, and Aspenpaw got chills all through his body.

He was freezing,

"She wouldn't take me," Aspenpaw wanted so much to spill out all his entire emotions, even to this simple stranger, but he could hardly say more than a few words, and with each one, he felt regret,

"Well, to be fair, this just isn't a place for a tom to be. It's good that you'll be goin' off soon. I don't think you'd wanna stay here anyway,"

"I do," Suddenly, there was silence.

Aranyer must have thought he was insane, or more likely, a spy trying to infiltrate every aspect of the commune, but if she did, she didn't say it.

She didn't say anything at all. Aspenpaw waited for some sort of a response, but when that failed, he swallowed his pride and said, "Tell Apollo that I want to talk to her about that again, please,"

Even then he still wasn't rewarded an answer, and he wondered if Aranyer was even still there, his smell not returned to him, but a voice in the darkness made his body jump just as he was suspecting that she was gone,

"Alright. Alright," She barely muttered,

"Thanks," Aspenpaw had wanted to ask her about Roco, and the things that Rese had said about the two of them, but as the retreating paw steps grew softer, he realized that he was too late.

Reluctantly swallowing the bitter herbs that Aranyer had laid in front of him, Aspenpaw decided not to sing again.

He had enough to keep his mind busy with worry tonight.

The wretched howls of a band of geese bounced off the hollow walls of the commune and into Aspenpaw's previously sleeping ears.

He had barely gotten a few minutes of rest throughout the night.

It seemed so obvious that Apollo would reject his wishes, and would scold him for even having the inkling of guts that he had to ask her through Aranyer.

He wondered if Aranyer had even passed his weak message along.

It certainly wasn't a good example of his qualifications if he couldn't even speak to her himself, but it was done, and Aspenpaw needed to learn that.

The wound in his chest was quickly healing behind the herb patches despite every odd that was stacked against him.

Aspenpaw wasn't particularly healthy after all this time, he had only ever been able to keep down half of what he ate.

Still, he had fought off the infection, and he was feeling nearly fine today, if famished and exhausted, with a cough still to rack his lungs.

He stood up on four dead legs, learning to walk outside of his dreams again.

For a time he couldn't lift any single one of his paws, else he would topple like a fawn.

Suddenly he heard a thud and looked up to see a clump of herbs strewn on the ground, and above them, Roco, her eyelids fiercely shut and her back banged up against the wall.

Aspenpaw wanted to run over and help, but recognized that it was his mobility that had caused her to have that reaction, and he froze.

Aranyer, always by her side, came rushing out to see what the matter was, only investigating Aspenpaw for a second before coming to the conclusion of the situation, "Roco, Roco, nothing's happened! He's gettin' better, and that's thanks to you! He's got no reason to try an' hurt you, especially not with me here,"

"I know, I know, it's, just hard," Aspenpaw sat back down, trying to show that he wasn't a threat, and Aranyer took notice, egging Roco on in a soft voice,

"Pick up your herbs, I'll be right here for ya,"

"Th-Thanks," Roco paused as she bent down, adding, "Aranyer," before regathering the herbs in a pile and picking them up in her mouth.

She slowly made her way across the room where Aspenpaw had remained through his entire stay there, and probably wouldn't any longer after today, "Hi," She said, without a stutter,

"Hi," He returned, but it didn't seem appreciated.

After chewing some of the herbs she brought, she placed the regurgitated substance on a white patch, and quickly, without moving her head any closer to his body, reached in her paws to rip off the old patch and apply the new, only causing a small flinch of pain.

She retreated with her things, and Aranyer looked somewhat smug on her return, though she said nothing.

With connecting their eyes, Aspenpaw saw the superiority that Aranyer felt towards him.

He knew that she had passed along his wish to Apollo, or else she wouldn't have been so worried about maintaining her appearance.

He nodded, and she saw. And then the two she-cats were gone, back through the mysterious tunnel that Aspenpaw had never seen beyond.

For a few moments, it was back to the silent monotony that he had grown so used to, hanging his head back and rolling his eyes, desperate for some spot of this room where he hadn't memorized the patterns of old wear lines and spots.

Some places seemed darker than others, like vines had burned against the surfaces and had left ashen residue that was never cleaned.

It was probable that nobody had entered this room since those marks were made.

But now somebody did.

The step didn't announce her presence, didn't call out to him that she had arrived, and neither did it do that or hide itself as such a small creak that only a blind cat would've heard.

It was Apollo, her pale-dark figure so loosely defining the end of one cat and the beginning of another,

"Hello, tom. Aranyer told me," was all she said, not feeling the need to elaborate where others would.

Aspenpaw was only given a moment to prepare himself before his mouth opened, and he offered his only deliverance,

"I want to stay here. I want to help. I've been trained to fight and hunt, and I have experience with staying hidden where I need to,"

"How well do you fight?"

"I'm good,"

"Have you been trained with spars or with combat?"

"Sparring," Apollo backed away, suspicious intent in her eyes.

She disappeared for a moment in the dark tunnel before returning with two levied soldiers, Aranyer and a cat Aspenpaw had only seen once or twice bringing prey in.

The twines of fur on the back of her neck were long, and when she moved, it flowed freely on whichever side her weight was distributed upon.

Apollo left the two cats in the center of the room, drifting to one of the gloomier corners without a word. She suddenly raised her tail, and a brawl began.

They hadn't much space to move, unlike where Aspenpaw had trained, and so their steps felt all the more calculated, precision mattering more than ever.

The unnamed she-cat threw a swipe at Aranyer, but only to cause intimidation, too far away to have any chance of hitting.

Though Apollo hadn't said anything, Aspenpaw knew that he was meant to be analyzing the fight, and he found that, even though he had never considered himself a fantastic fighter, he could see the motivation of every movement, and the subtle mistakes they made.

Aranyer dipped her head down as she finally dove into her combatant, placing one paw on hers to stop it from moving, and the other pressed hard against her head, forcing her to stumble and collapse.

But the unnamed she-cats free paw rained down on her and slammed her neck, stunning Aranyer just long enough for the she-cat to free herself and lung again.

Though Aranyer struck her side, the unnamed she-cat applied her weight in her jump and came crashing down, pinning Aranyer against the floor.

She flailed and tried to lunge her head forward, aspiring to clamp her jaws on the she-cat's shoulder, but failing with every attempt.

Apollo sat up from her shadow and padded over to the wrestlers, announcing an end to their fight.

When the two she-cats were settled, looking with trained indifferent faces, Apollo turned and asked directly to Aspenpaw, "What did they do wrong?"

Aspenpaw spoke before he fully knew what he was saying,

"Well, when she-" He to the cat whose name he didn't know, "-got her paw pinned down, she should've stopped trying to attack with the other and just shifted her weight to throw her off,"

Apollo didn't react, "And after that, she-" He pointed to Aranyer, not knowing if he should use her name, "-when she threw her down, hesitated like she was going to follow up, but she should've just retreated so she wouldn't get hit down too. And when she was, she should've stopped flailing and reeled back to lunge with more power,"

Aspenpaw concluded and hoped for some sort of sign that he was right.

Aranyer, despite how well she hid it, looked like her pride had been threatened.

Apollo spun around again and cocked her head like an owl, indicating to the two combatants that they could go.

Soon they were alone, and Aspenpaw immediately felt anxious picking at his skin as he crossed eyes with the unknowable leader.

She stood while speaking, refusing to level herself with him, "You say you hunt as well?"

"I don't know how well I'd do around here, but yeah,"

"And you can meet what will be asked of you without concession?"

"Yes," Uncharacteristically, Apollo paused, just for a moment, and said,

"Jingo gave you her blessing, despite if it never left her mouth. I'll give you the most of what a chance I am willing to, tom," Aspenpaw felt like a tree had fallen on his heart,

"Thank you, very much!"

"Tell me your name,"

"As," Aspenpaw was so exhilarated at the moment that he completely forgot that he had ever been sick to begin with,

"Rest full, tom," Apollo spoke a few final words to him before exiting, but Aspenpaw hardly heard them.

He was really here, and he would stay here.

His heart beat so fast and his furs all stood on their ends.

There was so much joy in him now, and so much sadness too, so many bitter feelings and so many beautiful ones.

Not a single thought could penetrate his mind, and Aspenpaw felt his eyes start to water with dazzling liquid.

Aspenpaw was still alive.

He started to cry.

Until I write again,

-Gojira