Sly

Chapter Eight

Sly

I lay against a large root, staring at my stick. It stuck straight up, the shadow of it slowly moving over the dirt. 

In the Godswood.

Alone and lost.

No big deal.

When I wasn't staring at the stick, I was swatting at the bugs. There were so many bugs in the Godswood, and every last one of them wanted to bite me. The air was warm and thick and hard to breathe, and the quiet was going to drive me insane long before I could get home at this rate. The light above was already dimming over the treetops, and my hope of a makeshift sun compass guiding me home faded with it. The tiny cracks in the canopy above just weren't going to shine down here long enough for a trail of the sun to be obvious enough in the shadows.

"Piss it." I kicked my stick over when the last of the direct sunlight faded. Laying back on the hard ground, I took mental inventory of what I had to work with. 

My knife. 

A bundle of Maplewood offering to Claw, god of the hunt and wild things. 

The clothes on my back. 

That was it.  I flung my forearm over my eyes and tried to think of what to do next.

"Shadow pox it. Davery would have a plan." I sighed. The only sound around me was the gentle rustling of leaves high overhead, and the wet sound of lapping water.

Lapping water.

I sat up and looked at the lake. The surface had been still as glass until just now. Small ripples glided a few feet from the edge of the water, seeming to come from behind a mossy rock. 

I stood slowly and quietly, hand on my knife, and crept towards the rock. Whatever was drinking the water wasn't too big, perhaps I could try to use it for food if she could figure out how to make a fire. Though, probably not with the offering bundle to Claw. I can't imagine he'd like that mixed with a kill.

Or would he?

I shook the thought away and focused on the animal. Probably a squirrel, maybe a chipmunk, or if I was lucky a rabbit. What she found was none of those things.

A fat gray tabby cat with white paws looked up at her with slight alarm. It had a large, unsightly silver bow around it's neck and it was clearly fed and groomed regularly. Maybe a little too regularly for its own good, judging from the sway of it's round belly.

"What in the twelve hells?" I breathed. 

This creature was well cared for, and I doubted the strange forest people did it. If anything, the ribbon looked like typical Unayan silk that any street merchant would sell. 

No, this thing was from the city.

The cat looked at me, still crouching over the water, and flicked one ear to the side and forward again. Then it rose and trotted off, its fat little body swaying with every step.

"Wait!" I ran back to Graham's bundle of wood and grabbed it, then turning and chasing after the cat. It was agile, more than it should be. I may as well have been chasing Aivel again over the vines and around the trees, for all I lost her breath trying to keep up.

There was wrongness about the cat, but not in a bad way. It simply, didn't belong. In the Godswood, anywhere. But where a cat was being groomed, there were humans. Humans that could hopefully lead her home.

I followed the cat for what felt like an hour. Once, when it was particularly far ahead, I could swear it stopped and looked back at me until I got close again. I shoved that from my mind and focused on not tripping instead.