Outline woke up, and instead of sleepily assuming that his mother and sister were with him, the cold truth was there right from the moment he slipped back into consciousness. He knew they were dead. He knew he had slept in some mangy old cat’s den for the last little while. Said mangy old cat was sat a few feet away as a reminder.
“Oh, so you’re finally awake?” Monty teased gently, ignoring Outline’s glare. “Anyway, if you plan on stayin’ with me, I hope you’re ready to move. We need to get to a new site.”
Outline blinked. “Why?”
“All right, listen,” Monty began. “I’m a wanderer, kid. That means I move around a lot. Never stay in one place for too long. Especially not here, I have enemies here. Now, follow me, we’re going to the human city, unless you want to eat first.”
“Who says I want to go with you at all?”
“Okay, I’ll take that as you bein’ hungry. You wait here an’ I’ll get you some kill. How’s that sound?”
“Umm. Maybe you’ve forgot that I am dealing with the pain of being almost ripped to death last week?” Outline declared. “Why do we need to move now? I’m injured.”
And he was injured. His gashes were still healing, and half of his tail was still ripped off. He had spent every waking moment hoping and praying that it was just a bad dream, but really he knew better.
“Listen,” Monty said, his mew low and urgent. “If you get found with me, you may well get ripped entirely to shreds, no matter how injured you are. We’ve stayed longer than we should have because of your injuries, so it’s move or I can’t look after you no more.”
Outline blinked slowly. This cat had just admitted to being hated to the point that these enemies would kill him by association. And yet he was still strangely compelled to accept the offer and go with him. “I’m not hungry,” he said, standing up. “Let’s go.”
Monty looked as if he was about to protest, but he shook his head and gestured for Outline to follow as he stepped out into the open. “I don’t know what I was thinking coming out here in the first place, y’know, kid,” he confessed. “I forgot about everything.”
“What made you remember?” Outline asked, padding up to Monty so they could walk beside each other. He didn’t want to warm to this stranger. He wanted to despise him. He wanted to be sad over his family. That would be right. But there wasn’t time.
“Had a dream. Days ago. When I first found you, actually,” Monty said curtly, just wanting to change the subject. “Okay, kid, e’er been to the big city before?”
And his companion gave a cry of amusement, much to the kitten’s dismay. Newly orphaned folk didn’t make cries of amusement. Nevertheless, he continued, “No, I’ve lived around here my whole life.”
“Mmh. Right, well, we’ll be fixin’ that.” Monty picked up the pace with a quick glance at the kitten. “Not too fast for you?” he checked.
“No,” Outline said, his voice steady, although it hurt and he was limping rather obviously. Still, he tried to focus on something- anything- else. The way the sun was filtering through the cloudy sky and flooding the meadow with light, the pleasantly cool dewdrops, the satisfyingly springy grass beneath his pad with every pawstep.
“Okay,” Monty said. His eyes were fixed on the trees at the very edge of the meadow, which really wasn’t too far now. Outline knew from his mother’s stories that they led into a big forest, and after that, a nearly endless stretch of grass before the city- the place where the humans made their homes.
As they took their first steps into the forest, Outline inhaled sharply. So, so different to what he was used to…so different. He had spent his time in the bushes and the open space in the meadow. These woods, this…forest, it was so wild and bursting with nature and life…trees and ferns everywhere, a squirrel leaping from branch to branch. And the feel of the soft leaves and the snaps of twigs underneath him…
Monty was far from new to the forest environment, so all the little things Outline was overwhelmed with were really just worn-off novelties to him. He didn’t observe the rabbit holes, staring as if they held the answer to life, and he didn’t take deep gulps of air every few steps, like his young companion did.
And eventually Outline started stopping every few feet to smell the flowers, because they were different from meadow flowers. Monty’s patience was tried, but he told himself over and over that the kid was new to this setting, and he would, of course, want to explore it extensively. He tried not to be bothered by the fact that they were only moving a few feet at a time, because, after all, the kitten had been through a lot. But finally, he turned around and spoke to Outline in the nicest way he possibly could.
“Look, youngun’…we’re not gonna get nowhere if y’all stop every few minutes, are we?” he explained, voice gentle.
Outline turned around from the thistle he was eyeing curiously and looked back blankly for a few seconds. He let Monty’s words sink in…and the more he thought about it, the more it just sounded patronising…insulting. Oh, what was it, pity the kid? And why couldn’t he sniff the flowers if he wanted to? It wasn’t like they were in a rush.
Monty himself knew they actually were in a rush.
Outline scowled, giving a quiet hiss. “Very well,” he spat, and he started walking forward stiffly, ignoring his limping and his pain as best he could, right past Monty. He had perhaps been starting to warm to the elderly cat. Well, certainly not anymore. He was right back into his self-absorbed, grumpy little world and he was convinced to stay there. No light was allowed in anymore. He wasn’t to be happy. With this perspective, suddenly all the flowers seemed so hateful. He had thought earlier that there was no time to grieve. Well, there clearly was, and he was not going to waste a second of it.
And the old cat paused, because that wasn’t how he had wanted to come across at all, but he decided that anything that made Outline walk faster got them to the city sooner, and anything that got them to the city sooner was good. He ran up to Outline so they could walk together. Well, he thought, the youngster can be sad now, but he’ll be fine…eventually. And when that day came, Monty wanted to help as best he could.
Going through the trees took a few silent hours, and Outline would have been exhausted even if he hadn’t been so injured. A few cuts had opened up again and he was bleeding all over, but he wasn’t going to beg for pity or a rest. Not from this guy. Not when he had mourning that he was very busy with. The trees slowly started thinning out, and soon enough they were on relatively treeless grass, the springy feeling of walking back, which would have brightened the kitten’s mood if the circumstances weren’t so bad. He wasn’t allowed to cheer up now. If emotions had colours, his were green and grey, the grey smothering the green and not letting it be in peace.
Monty decided that there would be at least another few hours until sundown and Outline could probably stand a bit more walking, so there was no reason to stop just yet. Getting as far away as possible was main priority.
Outline was surprised that they weren’t yet stopping, but the grey swallowed that soon too. His feet ached but he kept going, still convinced not to show any signs of weakness. No whining, and certainly no conversation, would occur.
They did eventually stop when Monty judged it to be a safe distance from the forest. He just stopped walking and curled up on the unprotected grass, and Outline took the hint. He curled up a few feet away, half a tail wrapped around his hind legs, and they slept through the dark hours.
