Smallcats ◭ Living Myth ◭ Book 1

Chapter Six. "Your Beliefs and Answers I Shall Mix."

 Dew trotted carefully along the creek, on the side away from the metal wire fence that separated the creek from the road. It had been a little more than two days since he had left the Soarians. I should've left earlier. Maybe then I wouldn't be worried about my job in the prophecy. In fact, he didn't really even know if it was even half a prophecy; maybe quarter? Third? Sixth? Fifth? Could this go on forever? Shaking his head, he looked up and saw the tall oak trees. The forest in front of him only seemed to cover a little bit less than a mile in area, and it was rather thin, with a width of maybe four of five trees. The trees were also separated by fifty tail-lengths at least, and at the most, he guessed maybe seventy?

Dew sighed and stepped into the woods. He padded carefully through the fallen mulch and dead leaves, and he wondered if he would regret his decision. That Mistea cat was a good friend, and he had made some thin ties with a couple of the cats, such as Vorian and Myphoon. Flightew... He wasn't sure. The she-cat hadn't been too welcoming, though he had really only stayed there for two days.

Shaking his head, he returned to reality and sighed to himself. He opened his jaws and tasted the air, wondering if there was any prey here. He usually didn't hunt, but today would be an exception. He didn't smell anything for a few minutes, but he finally caught the scent of a sparrow.

Dew followed the scent trail for a minute, probably traveling thirty or forty yards. When he paused, he saw that his target was carefully pecking at something that was hidden within the debris. The wind was blowing towards him, and he twitched his whiskers in satisfaction. The sparrow wouldn't be able to scent him if it could. Narrowing his eyes, he lowered himself and crept carefully towards the bird. The sparrow fluffed it's feathers, letting them smooth again almost instantly. It turned its head, the speed almost making it look like it was breaking its neck.

Dew suppressed a growl and placed another paw carefully, making sure that he wasn't making a dry leaf or a brittle stick crack. His patience was running out, and he wasn't one for being patient. Still, he breathed an inward sigh and continued. After what seemed like an eternity, he was close enough to pounce. However, the sparrow had other plans. The bird spread its elegant wings, taking off in a flurry of wingbeats. It made a squawk as Dew yowled in frustration and leaped up. His claws caught onto the sides of the bird and both collapsed. His grip slipped, and the sparrow managed to awkwardly flap away. A couple of seconds later, he heard a shriek, and he figured it was the sparrow. Did I really injure it enough? That was unlikely since he had only left bloody scratches.

Standing up, he shook his fur and licked a leaf off of his shoulder. Cautiously he walked over to the direction where he had heard the shriek. When he peered over a bush, he noticed a white she-cat with a pale gray eye which Dew guessed had been blinded. He made his way through the shrubs and continued to stare at the she-cat.

"Um?" he started, but the feline seemed to notice him already. She turned around and nodded. At her paws was the sparrow, its neck twisted and bent horribly.

"I know this is yours. You deserve it," the white cat meowed calmly, pushing the bird towards him.

"No, I can't. You caught it," Dew denied, taking a step back from the bird.

"Did I? You are one to assume, aren't you?" the white feline purred. "No, I didn't kill it. You injured its sides, which must've affected its wings. Then it crashed into the tree right here." The she-cat nodded over the thin birch that stood two or three feet away from her, and Dew noticed that a single sparrow feather was caught in the bark.

"And you brought it here?" he meowed, narrowing his eyes.

"Indeed. I figured you would come to your catch," the she-cat mewed. "Seems like you have something you want to talk about."