~~~
The howling stopped eventually, Goosekit and the coyote finally alone with the pond. Strangely, in the middle of the night earlier, the lotuses started to glow, green and blue and pink and yellow ...
But later it stopped, and as Goosekit thought he was hallucinating, the coyote didn't seem to have any trouble with the light-up water flowers.
At one point in the night he helped clean the rest of the coyote's wounds. Most had healed and none seemed infected, and she walked and breathed fine. They even practiced more cat language.
"Goosekit," the coyote would repeat and Goosekit mewed his approval. They practiced other words like "Help" in case of danger and "Yes" and "No". The coyote was a fast learner and seemed to understand when Goosekit tested her. She even gestured to herself and repeated a few barks, but Goosekit didn't understand. Maybe soon he'd learn her name correctly.
The next day they traveled around the forest together. The coyote tried to show Goosekit how to hunt, he presumed. It would stalk up and pounce at prey to kill it, or would run after the prey if it saw the predator approach. Goosekit tried to mimic the actions the coyote gave but failed every time.
Finally he stalked through a thick patch of underbrush and small weeds. His nose twitched at the smell of rat and he crept closer with a determined smirk. But when he looked through the underbrush he saw a clearing. A random clearing of trees, only housing some small rocks and bushes, and a tiny pool of water.
He stopped, bewildered, and then he saw the rat ... or, rats.
A group of four rats scuttled around. they were brown and black and gray, with big buck teeth and claws. They were larger than mice and they smelled horrible the closer he got. He flicked his tail, about to run and catch one when the coyote jumped up in front of him. He sprang right into the back of its leg and winced, falling back.
He looked up at it in frusterated confusion and saw it bark at the rats. They provoked it with bared teeth but it barked louder and swiped at the nearest one with an outstretched paw, knocking it away. The rats stopped squeaking and got up, running off.
"Hey!" Goosekit mewled in fury. "Why'd you scare 'em off?"
"Dangerous," the coyote replied, which was another word it knew. "Dangerous prey."
They padded away from the clearing but Goosekit was thristy. He ran back and began to lap at the water. It was clean, like a fresh puddle of rain. He sighed in a relieving way and the coyote sat beside him. It had an urging expression, but wasn't looking at him. It looked at the sky.
"Goosekit," it said.
"Yes?" he replied, looking up and licking his maw of water.
"Need tell..." it said, then barked something else. "Name ... My name is Cocoa."
Goosekit widened his eyes. Finally he knew. But how'd it learn that in his language? And how'd he never know her gender until now?
Maybe the feminine name, or her tone when she explained things longer? He suggested, but then had to ask.
"How ... Uhm, how'd you learn that?"
"Practice ... and I saw lost cats in trees. At night."
Goosekit looked a bit concerned, scared even. Of course he wanted to see his family, but he didn't want to leave Cocoa, especially now, knowing her name.
"Rogues? Clan cats?" he wondered aloud, looking into the forest with a shudder. What would the cats do seeing a coyote with a kitten?
Thoughts started to swirl in his mind. What would they do? Run away and leave him behind? Would they fight, win him back?
Would they kill her?
~~~
Night came faster that day. Cocoa had led Goosekit somewhere in the hills. He helped her dig a hole in the side of an abrupt-falling hill. They made a little burrow in the side of the hill and she marked it this time, unlike she had with her last den, Goosekit noticed.
While she neatened out the interior of the den, Goosekit searched for material in the forest. He recognized the soft, mushy feel of moss on a large rock and peeled it off, draping it over his shoulder. He climbed a small tree and hopped through a few branches until he found some thin vines, which he wrapped around himself as well.
He remembered the smell of poppy seeds, which he found lying near a few poppy flowers. He collected them, along with the familiar sticky sense of cobwebs, caught in the branches of an old oak tree.
Soon Goosekit returned to the den Cocoa had finished. He beckoned her out and she slipped through the hole, letting him do what he needed. He flattened the moss across the floor of the den, patting it down to the dirt to keep it alive and soft. He tied the vines over the entrance of the den, making it a little less visible.
He went back in to find a place to hide the herbs when he saw a smaller hole in the back on the den. He sniffed it and crawled through, creeping for a while until he saw the plain sky. It's just another entrance, but why? For emergency escape?
He draped some more vines over that as well, then crawled back to the main den. He dug a tiny hole in the side of the den, like a shelf, and rested the herbs on a thin pile of yellow leaves.
"Done!" he called for Cocoa. When she didn't reply, he padded out to look for her. The coyote fae was trotting back. "What happened?"
"Just water," she explained, then glanced at the den. Her face lit up, "Beautiful!" she yipped. "Comfortable."
She slipped through the vines and sniffed the moss before curling up on top of it. Goosekit followed her and smiled. "Glad you like it Cocoa."
She smiled, but looked tired. He could understand that, but wasn't sleepy himself. He slipped back out and bounded up the hill their den was made in. He sat at the top, in a patch of fluffy dandelions. His tail twitched, making a few of the fuzzy seeds glide away.
Finally the clouds cleared from the moon. And to his surprise, it was a full moon.
"A full moon! I'm four moons old now!" he cried happily, leaning onto his haunches and gleaming at the moon. "If only I saw Troutkit, Silverkit, and Cloverkit's reactions. Are they happy? Sad?" He thought about it. "Silverkit would be happy, Troutkit would be proud, and Cloverkit would probably just snark aroung and brag about being older than the other kits."
He sighed, then chuckled. "Four moons. I'm so close ... but so far away."
He didn't like still being a kit. He didn't like knowing how young he still was, yet how powerful he was for his age. Most kits would be happy about being like this, he realized. But most kits would either run away from or attack Cocoa ....
He inhaled the moonhigh scents. The cool air, the smell of the algea from the pond, the lotus' aroma. The distant smell of rat, and a bit of deer . . . Cocoa and their den, her marking, their herbs . . . the other coyotes somewhere in the forest . . .
But one stood out from them all. His heart stopped slightly and his immediate reaction was to crouch. He whirled around in a low position, blending into the milkweed.
The smell of rogues.
And there, one was, creeping along the forest.
~~~
YOU ARE READING
Book One: Dog Borne
Fanfiction"It trotted off warily, leaving the kit in the nest, but if Goosekit learned anything in his time, it was that new adventure awaited if you didn't listen - which was a terrible moral but he decided it was an exciting one to live by." Goosekit had...
