Thorn: Gooses' Journey (Book #1)

Chapter 1: The Past Unfolds

Goose yawned, stretching out as he waited for his owner to fill his dish. 

He watched his owner sleep for a while, but he didn’t think much of it.

He stared at the dish that seemed to tease him, and he began to weave his way through the kitchen chairs to the back door.

He would trot outside, the sun blazing on his soft pelt, as he noticed a familiar face.

“Hey, Winnie,” Goose yawned, jumping up onto a fuzzy, worn-out, platform that had been built over the fence.

Winnie nearly fell over, her fur relaxing as she met Goose’s eyes.

“Goose, you can’t scare me like that!” She whined.

“Oh come on, when was the last time you saw a cat outside of our group?” Goose raised an eyebrow, settling in on the platform, Winnie pressing into his side.

“I- Well- Fine, never. But you never know, Goose!” She gave a glance around as she spoke.

“Winnie, those old stories were things a moth told her kits to scare them into behaving,” He huffed “They’re not real.”

“Maybe you’re right, but I swear I’ll claw your eyes out next time,” She warned.

“That’s what you said last time. Oh! And the time before that, and the time before that, and- you get the point” He replied slyly.

“I hate you,” She grumbled.

“I love you too,” He stated proudly, gazing out into the forest.

It was silent for a moment, orange leaves floating to the ground every so often.

Goose gazed over, surprised at how relaxed Winnie had been.

He smiled, knowing his half-sister was finally settling down.

“Hey, Goose. Can I ask you something?” Winnie looked up at him, her ears flicked.

“Hm?” He looked curious.

“I know we’re only a season apart in age, but do you have any memories of father? It might help me figure out why father left your moth for mine.” She looked at her paws, knowing their father was a sensitive subject for Goose.

“I- Okay.” He said, an uneasy look on his face.

Winnie was shocked, her eyes flooded with excitement and curiosity.

“Father was a great cat, always speaking of the tales of the mystery tribes,” He began, a small smile spread across his face.

“He was strange, but he cared for my moth and me. He always returned to my nursing nest, bringing moth water and food.”
Winnie cocked her head, looking confused.

“I- I don’t have many memories of him. Just ones where he played with me, telling moth jokes when she was sad.” Goose stared at his paws.

He squinted, his worst memory fading into his blank head.

“Moth! Moth! Look, father’s here!” Goose jumped about excitedly.

“Seriously!?” The she snarled, making Goose jump.

“What?” The tall tom replied, “Why can’t I see my kit?”

“You can’t even process my hatred for you? You know what you did. You are at fault, Smoke, not me.” The she hissed.

“Now, now, Blacksky think this through. I just want to see my son” Smoke hissed back, hurling towards Blacksky as he spoke of Goose.

“Moth! Father! Stop!” Goose yowled, trying to jump between them.

Since Goose was young, he was tiny, too, so he was easily smacked away.

Goose didn’t find luck with landing, stumbling back and shredding his back open on something he couldn’t see.

“Goose!” Blacksky yowled, trying to reach her kit as she was pinned to the dirt.

Goose’s vision blurred, he knew what was happening, he wanted to help!

Goose tried to move, but the pain that rippled through his spine caused him to tumble over.

Blacksky snarled though it was cut off with a muffled yowl.

Goose was slipping to darkness, trying to reach his dying moth, but he would fail, falling into sleep.

“He.. he was a good cat. I’m not sure why he ran away. Or why my moth chose to go with her rogue friend when he passed through,” He lied, his throat burning.

“Wow! I guess what my moth said was true.. Too bad she’s gone.” Winnie replied.

Goose perked up, Winnie had never spoken of her moth.

“Uh.. can you tell me about her?” He asked the short she, and she looked at him, nodding.

“Well, she wasn’t terrible, but she wasn’t pleasant.” She began, Goose taking mental notes.

“It was rare where she showed any care for me, so I had to rely on nature to feed me.” She continued.

“I don’t hate her, but I don’t want to see her. Whenever she yelled at me I felt so powerless.” Winnie sighed, unsure if she wanted to continue, but she forced it out.

“She called me things that would hurt a young kit, and only once did she ever harm me.” Winnie glared at the sky, finally pushing out the rest as Goose’s ears flattened.

“My leg,” She huffed, glancing at her missing front leg.

Goose never minded it, he thought she was born with three legs, not four.

“Did- Did it.. hurt?’ Goose asked, knowing the question was dumb.

“Yeah. It hurt worse than her words, worse than when I ran into that tree. It still hurts... I- I just didn’t want you to think I was weak,” She spoke, tears welling in her eyes.

“Winnie, I will never see you as weak,” Goose began.

Winnie gazed up, digging her face into his neck.

“But why not?” She muttered.

“Winnie, when you get pushed down, you get back up again. When your owner forgets to feed you, you go hunt for yourself. When you are hurt by words, you hurt the cat right back. Winnie, you are not weak, you are the strongest cat I know.” He spoke softly.

“Yeah... I guess.” She mumbled, her tears soaking Goose’s neck.