Pawsgaard

Pawsgaard

  A Guineawick Tale by Jon Thysell

  Copyright 2009-2012 Jon Thysell. Some Rights Reserved.

  Pawsgaard: A Guineawick Tale by Jon Thysell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. For more details visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/us/

  Table of Contents

  01

  02

  03

  04

  05

  06

  07

  08

  09

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  01

  Thick white clouds blanketed the sky, blocking the hot noon sun. The walled mousetown bustled with twittering whiskers, bouncing tails, and the rapid chatter of hundreds of mice. Merchants shouted from the shade of their stalls; mothers ran errands with little ones circling their feet. A constant stream of farmers returned from the fields, marching in from the East Gate with carts overstuffed. All bore the smiles of a good day's work and the promise of a comfortable winter.

  Harvest had come to Guineawick.

  Among the sea of grey, brown, and black, strolled a single white mouse. She wore a bright orange sarong wrapped about her waist; a wicker basket swung from the crook of her arm.

  "A'llo Hester!"

  The white mouse raised a paw to her brow and looked back toward the square, searching for the greeting's source. She spotted a hamster in the shade of the smithy, waving a heavy hammer as if it were made of cork.

  "Hello Hamma!" Hester said with a grin. She returned the wave, fanning her whiskers wide.

  "You look mighty pretty in orange!" the blacksmith shouted.

  Hester blushed, tail around her ankles, and adjusted her sarong. Why'd he have to go and say that?

  The hamster reached down and wiped his sooty face on his even sootier apron. "Well, much prettier than me and me ol' apron!"

  Hester laughed; she liked the old hamster. He understood what it meant to stick out. "Thank you Hamma! I'll see you later!"

  "Goodbye Hester!"

  They waved again, and Hamma returned to the fires of his forge. With a swing and a bang, he resumed shaping the shovel-head he'd left on the hot coals. Hester smiled and continued her walk away from the market.

  Not long after she spotted a familiar silhouette on the hillside ahead: the figure had large round ears, and his back bent low to the ground. He pulled a cart twice his size; it was filled over with the long stalk reeds that grew by the riverbank. Hester picked up her pace, her tail bobbing happily behind her.

  "Peaceful greetings, Jared," Hester said in the old tongue. The greeting sounded more like a refined cough than actual words.

  The old mouse jumped, and with one ear cocked back began a mock search; he hunted high and low, left and right, staring through Hester as if she wasn't even there. Hester smiled.

  "Peaceful greetings, Jared," she said again. Jared smiled and perked his ears.

  "Oh, peaceful greetings, Hester," he said. "I wondered who it was. No one speaks the old tongue anymore, at least not with me." Hester rolled her eyes.

  "What do you mean?" Hester asked. "I always do."

  "Did, perhaps," Jared said. "I haven't seen nor heard from you for months. Too old to spend your summer with Jared?"

  "No, I-" Jared's cart lurched back; his knees bent and his arms began to shake. Hester dropped her basket and grabbed the cart's handle. "Let me help you with that."

  "No need, no need!" Jared said, and straightened his legs. "You may be too old, but I'm not! I won't be too old until I can't pull this here cart, and when I can't pull this here cart I'll be too old." Hester gave him a stern look. "Besides, look at my arms. You wouldn't want to get your pretty white fur all dirty, would you?"

  Hester leaned away, her tail back around her ankles, and flattened down her fur. Jared frowned.

  "Sorry little one," he said. Then with a tug he continued up the hill. Hester retrieved her basket and followed.

  They reached the hill's crest and Hester stopped at the crossroads while Jared caught his breath. She stood on her tiptoes and taking a deep breath, she looked down over Guineawick. First to her right: the road west led down through the oldest neighborhoods in town, where the long established families, like hers, kept their manors. Past the town wall and the land rose again, up and up the great rock face of Mount Podge.

  Town Hall stood to her left: the stone centerpiece of Guineawick. By far the largest building in all of town, it predated even Jared, who claimed to not remember a time before Town Hall existed. Past Town Hall the road led to the East Gate, beyond which lay the Greater Gardens, the heart of Guineawick farmland. Grand fields of grains, fruits, vegetables and nuts stretched all the way to Hodge River.

  Hester took in another deep breath and returned her heels to the ground.

  "Why were you in the market today?" she asked, her tail piqued. "You don't come in for another week."

  Jared twitched his whiskers then scratched under his ear. "Had a funny feeling," he said finally. "That's all. Like something big was going to happen today." Hester's tail bobbed, but Jared shrugged. "And where were you headed today?"

  "I almost forgot," Hester said, and then held up her basket. "I brought you a picnic!"

  "A picnic?" Jared asked, and twitched his whiskers again. "Why didn't you say so? Let's get a move on!" With a small heave, he lifted up the cart handles, and pointing his pink nose south, continued onward.

  The road curved around a block of houses then passed between some of Guineawick's older stone buildings. The hospital appeared up ahead, tall and stark with its recent coat of white-wash. A cadre of Nurses maintained the grounds, dutifully tending the dense herb garden that surrounded the building. As she walked by, Hester inhaled the deep perfume of the Lesser Gardens and smiled.

  Soon after, the two arrived at a small house near the South Gate. A wood sign hung over doorway; it read "Jared's Burrow" in stiff, blocky lettering. Jared smiled, fanning out his grey whiskers.

  "Ah, home at last," he said, and then with a heave, he pulled his cart around back. Hester waited for him in the street, swinging her basket and toying with her tail. Then Jared returned, wiping the dust from his paws. "Shall we?"

  "Why do you have a sign?" Hester asked. "No one else I know has a sign over their front door. And it's not a proper burrow is it? Weren't burrows underground?"

  Jared scratched the whiskers under his chin and pursed his lips. Then his milky little eyes met Hester's, black and widening.

  "Sorry," Hester said, paw to her mouth. In her sudden curiosity she'd broken Jared's one rule: that their conversations be always in high-rodent. Jared snorted and twittered his whiskers, then went inside. Hester followed with her head hung low. Oops. How many times have you seen that sign anyway?

  Jared disappeared down the hall, while Hester hurried to the kitchen, setting her basket down on the rough wood table before fetching plates from the cupboard. Jared returned with a large bowl of flowered water and they took turns washing their paws and faces.

  "I see you haven't forgotten your way around my kitchen," Jared said, eyebrow raised.

  "I'm sorry, I know I haven't been around lately," Hester said. "How's the harvest?"

  "It's a good year for everyone." Jared sat and fingered the basket. "What did you bring today?"

  "Nothing special." Hester opened the basket and produced a loaf of bread, a blackberry, and an unshelled peanut. Jared grinned and licked his lips.

  "It's marvelous," he said. "Well
what're we waiting for?" Hester sat and broke the loaf in two. They ate in silence, avoiding each other's eyes. Finally, Jared spoke.

  "Have you decided?" he asked. Hester's tail hooked the chair. Had she really expected him not to ask?

  "I don't know," she said.

  "You'll find something." Jared reached for the peanut and split off half. "There's no rush."

  "Tell that to my father," Hester said, and Jared chuckled. "He's been on my tail all summer. School's over. You have to contribute to society now, Hester; you have to pick a place. It's all he talks about." The old mouse chuckled again.

  "It's only because he cares," Jared said. Hester rolled her eyes and took her peanut half.

  "What's with the smile?" Hester asked.

  "Oh, nothing," Jared said. He paused to scratch his chin. "It's not the same, you know, not having you around. I miss our chats. I miss the extra paws down at the river."

  "I miss your lessons," Hester said. "But I miss your stories more. Tell me a story, Jared. Tell me a story about Hodge and Podge." Jared laughed.

  "But you know them better than I do," he said.

  "Maybe," Hester said. "But I like it when you tell them." Jared sighed.

  "Perhaps another-"

  A flash passed over Hester's eyes, and just as quickly she snatched the blackberry from the open basket. Jared's nose followed the upheld fruit with keen interest.

  "I see..." Jared licked his lips. "So that's how it's going to be?"

  Hester smiled wide, revealing her fore-teeth. Food never failed to loosen her old mentor's tongue. She waved the berry under her nose and exaggerated inhaling its sweet scent.

  "Alright, you win," Jared said. "Give me-"

  A swift sharp knock at the door interrupted Jared; Hester jumped up in her seat. A moment later the front door opened, and in marched a young mouse sporting a Guard's cape.

  "Hester, I thought I'd find you here-"

  Jared stood and interrupted the Guardmouse with a wild wave of his arms.

  "Hold on a minute!" Jared said. "Have you no respect, boy? You can't just barge into the Jared's Burrow!" Hester covered her mouth and tried to stifle her laughter. "What's your name?"

  "It's me, sir," the Guardmouse said. "Aman." He stood tail in paw, his back against the wall. He lowered his head, pushing the edges of his rather large fore-teeth against his brown fur.

  "Aman?" Jared rocked back on his heels and scratched his ear. "You hardly reached my waist last I saw you. But no, I do recall someone going on and on about you more recently." Hester stopped laughing, her eyes wide. He wouldn't dare.

  She jumped from her seat before Jared could continue; the blackberry bounced free onto the table. "What's going on Aman?" she asked. "What's the big commotion?"

  Aman eyed Jared, and then cleared his throat. "It's Zach and Toby; they found something by the river!"

  Hester's heart dropped into her stomach. She'd told her brothers to stay in town; she was supposed to be watching them. If they were down by the river-

  Hester imagined their mother, arms waving and spewing flames.

  "What did you say they found?" Jared asked. He picked up the fallen blackberry and smiled.

  "A rabbit!" Aman said. "A real live rabbit!" Hester stared wide-eyed at Jared as she tried to digest Aman's words. A rabbit? It couldn't be...

  "Come on," Aman said. "The Guard is going to bring it through the North Gate!"

  Jared put down the blackberry and stared at the floor. "Hmmm... something about today..." Then he laughed and slapped his knee. "Well what're we waiting for?"

  02

  A crowd had formed in the town square. Tails bobbed and ears perked as the curious townsmice strained to see over one another.

  "Did you hear?"

  "I know, a rabbit right?"

  "Impossible, rabbits don't even exist!"

  Hester, Jared, and Aman arrived with the latest wave of twittering whiskers. They shuffled into the square, and Aman spotted a small clearing up ahead. A matronly grey-fur stood in its center; she wore an elegant burgundy wrap and appeared to be scanning the crowd.

  "Don't look now," Aman whispered. Hester's eyes widened at the sight of her mother, and she ducked behind Aman's cape. The grey-fur glanced in their direction, and Jared caught her attention with a wave.

  "Rizo!" he shouted. "Over here!"

  "What're you doing?" Hester asked.

  The crowd split before Rizo, who marched straight toward the three mice. Jared moved to greet her.

  "Peaceful greetings-"

  "Where's Hester?" Rizo asked. Then seeing her daughter: "Hester, where are the boys?"

  Hester opened her mouth, but the trump, trump, march of Guardmice interrupted her confession. A company approached, a grizzled grey-fur at their head; his broach marked him Captain of the Guard.

  "Stand to, everyone!" he shouted with a flourish of his broad cape. "Clear the square!"

  "Captain says clear the square!" another Guardmouse shouted. "Clear the square! Clear the square!" The Guardmice used their bows as mock rails to pressure the crowd back.

  Hester stumbled backward with the press of townsmice and nearly tripped over her tail, but Aman caught her from behind. She blushed and smiled her thanks.

  Her mother however, had already taken the initiative, squeezing her way through the crowd. "Out of my way!" she shouted. "Let me pass!"

  Meanwhile, Jared had, with surprising alacrity, clamored up onto the edge of the nearest stone flower box. He hooked his tail on the post of a market stall and leaned over the other mice, his eyes alert and his enormous ears cocked straight ahead.

  A silhouette grew under the arch of the North Gate as a small procession entered town. Half a dozen Guardmice resolved from the shadows with Hamma the hamster in the lead; together they dragged in a large mass on a hastily fashioned gurney. Hamma revealed chipped fore-teeth with every heave as they pulled.

  Then came a sudden and deep voice from the crowd.

  "Now what do we have here?"

  The crowd quieted to whispers. A tall black mouse wearing a bright teal sash approached, and was let to pass the Guard's barricade. He strode straight up to the gurney and leaned in over the brownish green mass. The mayor-regent pursed his lips and raised his grey-tuft eyebrow.

  "Captain Essl," he said. "Report, if you please." The grey-fur offered a sharp salute.

  "It's a rabbit, sir, and he's hurt pretty bad. We found him-" Two high-pitched voices interrupted him.

  "Hey, you didn't find him, we did!" Then two little boys, one black, one grey, ran out from behind the gurney. "Dad, he was laying down by Hodge River-"

  "Zach? Toby? What were you two doing-" However the mayor-regent was interrupted himself by Rizo, who had finally made her way through the crowd and barricade.

  "Argile, what's going on?" Rizo ran to her husband's side, then, seeing their sons, hunched down to their level, poking and prodding at their fur. "Are you alright, were you hurt? What were you two doing by the river? Where was your sister?"

  Everyone turned to Hester, but her eyes were fixed upon the gurney. It wasn't possible. Her parents tried to get her attention, but she walked right past them. The figure was covered in a massive green and brown cloak, which rose and fell with hoarse, ragged breaths. Hester's heart pounded in her ears.

  She reached up a single paw and pulled off the cover.

  The townsmice gasped: the rabbit was at least eight times as large as Hamma. He wore magnificent plates of metal armor, though it was dented and tarnished all over. A Guardmouse stood nearby, carrying the broken remains of a spear and a large metal helmet with a smashed crest.

  "It's a real rabbit," Hester whispered. But it was more than that. She stared at the unconscious body, and her heart beat ever faster. For under the stains of dirt and grass and blood, the rabbit's fur was as white as snow.

  As white as her very own.

  03

  Hester paced back and forth behind Town Hall with her arms crossed over her chest. He
r father had called the Town Council for an emergency session; she could hear the chatter of the audience inside. Argile's voice sounded high over their squabbles: clear and cool, urging the townsmice to remain calm.

  For the first time in her life Hester actually wanted to attend, but her mother wouldn't hear of it. She needed to be punished for shirking her responsibilities earlier. Hester paced again, and then stopped to glare at the small nursery attached to the rear of the building. Babysitting.

  Just great.

  "Heya Hester," Aman said. He crossed the street toward her, his cape aflutter behind him. Hester blushed and patted down her fur.

  "You don't have to do this you know," she said. Aman shrugged.

  "Oh, I don't mind." Hester smiled and waited while he opened the door. "It's just babysitting." Hester curled her nose.

  Right, just babysitting.

  Then she entered, with Aman a step behind her. She had expected a mob of youngsters running amok; to her surprise they all sat in a circle on the floor around her brothers.

  Zach and Toby regaled the others with the story of finding the rabbit. They hunched down from the table, and in low voices explained how they had snuck up on the great white beast. Hester rolled her eyes; someone's been rehearsing.

  "We tried to lift him up," Zach said. "But he was too wide and kept flopping out of our paws. So I said to Toby: 'We better ask the Guard for help.'" Tails bobbed to a chorus of oohs and aahs.

  "That's not what happened!" Aman shouted. The youngsters jumped, and Aman squeezed his way up to face the brothers. "The captain said you two came running through the gate screaming like you'd had your tails cut off." Then Aman turned to their audience. "Don't listen to these two." Zach and Toby stammered and stuttered and waved their paws.

  "You'd be screaming too if you saw it when it was still awake!" Zach said. "Its eyes were red and it breathed fire!" The youngest in the nursery shivered and clutched at their tails.

  "Rabbits don't breathe fire," Hester said.

  "What do you know?" Toby asked. "You weren't there. You've never seen a rabbit before."

  "True," Hester said. "But Jared has, and he's told me all about them. Don't any of you know anything about rabbits?"

  The childmice shrugged and shook their heads. Hester sighed, then climbed up onto the table, shooing her brothers back to the floor. Zach and Toby flashed their tongues before finally settling down.

  "Rabbits are good," Hester said. "Just like mice, hamsters, and squirrels. It's just been a long time since anyone's seen one."

  "What are squirrels?" a tiny girl asked, but she was hushed by the group. Hester continued.

  "Rabbits are fierce warriors from the north, where it snows year-round and there are all kinds of monsters, like weasels and foxes. Sometimes, they even run into cats." Some of the little ones gasped and Hester grinned. "It was Hodge who first went north to find the rabbits-"

  "Hodge?" a boy asked. "You mean like Hodge River?"

  "Of course," Hester said. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of the brothers Hodge and Podge either?" Her audience shook their heads again.

  "Okay," Hester said, then took a deep breath. "Shall I tell you all the legend of Hodge and Podge, and how they founded Guineawick?" Everyone nodded leaned in closer; even Zach and Toby couldn't resist the story's pull.

  "A long time ago, mice lived in burrows underground to keep safe from monsters and there lived twin brothers named Hodge and Podge. They were brave and tough, and loved to leave their burrow and explore. One day, when they were still babies, their mother found them outside, playing with the body of a snake they'd killed."

  Mouths gaped and fore-teeth shone; fear of snakes had been drilled into their tiny skulls since before they could walk. It took a dozen of the toughest Guardmice to bring down a snake. Hester smiled her whiskers wide.

  "When they were older, Hodge and Podge decided that they'd had enough of living underground. So one autumn they set out to build a safe haven where mice could live aboveground. The other mice thought they were crazy, so they set out alone. Their adventures led them here, where the mountain met the river, and they decided that this was the perfect place to build Guineawick."

  "Why is the river called Hodge and the mountain Podge?" a mouse asked. "Why not the other way around?"

  "That's a good question," Hester said. "You see, Hodge and Podge knew they couldn't build Guineawick all by themselves, so they decided to split up and find help. Podge had heard rumors of mines high in the mountains, and even though he was slightly younger than his brother, he volunteered to climb the dangerous rocks in search of the hamsters. He found them, and they agreed to build Guineawick on the condition that hamsters could live there too."

  "And Hodge?" Aman asked.

  Hester smiled at him. She'd probably told him the legend of Hodge and Podge at least a million times growing up.

  "Hodge knew that the hamsters would need protection until the town was finished," Hester said. "So he followed the river north, far past the forest to the frozen tundra, the home of the rabbits." Many youngsters' cheeks puffed as they held their breath.

  "Hodge knew the rabbits only by their fierce reputation. They lived in the harsh cold, and had to defend their homes constantly. Especially, against cats." The little ones gasped; some played nervously with their tails, others held onto their neighbors. Hester flashed a wicked grin. "Cats, the most ferocious of monsters. Feared by all rodents, but especially mice, for cats love the taste of mice most-"

  At that moment, the door slammed open, which sent the children into chaos; they squeaked and squealed and scrambled over one another, diving behind and under the furniture. A sturdy looking Guardmouse entered the nursery.

  "Hester?" he asked. Hester stood up from behind the table where she had fallen.

  "Yes?"

  "Your presence is required before the council," the Guardmouse said. He glanced over the cowering youngsters, and then faced Aman. "Straighten this place out."

  Hester met Aman's eyes. He smiled at her, and she would have felt embarrassed if she wasn't already so nervous. This can't be good.

  Then she followed the Guardmouse outside.

  04

  Hester heard elevated voices from within Town Hall. The Guardmouse gestured for her to enter and the hall went silent as soon as she crossed the threshold. Hester swallowed, and then walked up the aisle between the rows of wood chairs. Stay calm, you can do this. Hester fought down the tickle in her belly; fought the urge to grab her tail or fix her fur.

  Her father stood on stage behind the podium and she quickly scanned the crowd to avoid his stare. The important mice were all present. Family heads with their wives and eldest children. Shop-owners and merchants. Dr. Cotton representing the hospital, and the many guild leaders. Hester searched for a friendly face and found Hamma up on stage. She'd nearly forgotten his recent election to the Town Council.

  The hamster flashed her a smile; something wasn't right. She looked to Jared, also on stage, who smiled as well. Then her father spoke, forcing Hester to meet his eyes.

  "Hester, do you know why you're here?" Argile asked. She saw through his calm image, sensed the flagging confidence beneath. It must have been a rough meeting.

  "No," Hester said.

  "The council has decided to take in the rabbit until he is able to leave Guineawick on his own strength." Hester listened carefully for the bad news. "Hamma has been kind enough to offer a room for the rabbit, given the lack of a suitably sized space elsewhere." Dr. Cotton grunted from the far side of the room.

  "Being the most knowledgeable about rabbits, Jared has been charged with caring for our guest," Argile said. "He has requested an assistant-"

  "I still object," Dr. Cotton said. The greying brown-fur crossed his arms on his chest. "There's no basis for discrediting the talents of my medical staff." The group of Nurses around him nodded their agreement. Argile ran a paw down his chin.

  "Again, your objection has been noted." He looked again to Heste
r; her eyes were wide, her paws trembled. "Hester, Jared has requested your help."

  Hester's tail perked and she looked to Jared; the old mouse nodded once in confirmation. No mention of not watching her brothers, no formal punishment. This wasn't supposed to happen! Hester fought to keep her tail from bobbing. Not this! Anything but this!

  "Yes," she said after a deep breath. "I mean, I'll be happy to help Jared."

  "Good, then that settles things," Argile said. Dr. Cotton turned on his heel and marched toward the door, his Nurses in tow. Argile sighed. "Well, then unless we have any other business tonight, I call this meeting adjourned."

  With that, the townsmice broke into low whispers as they stood from their seats and started to shuffle out of the hall. Hester's mother passed by; she shot a stern glance at her daughter, but Hester didn't notice. She did however notice her father whispering something into Captain Essl's ear.

  "Snap to!" Jared said, and Hester jumped. "Come now, let's get to work. I expect it'll be a long night."

  Hester nodded and followed him out the door. It was already dark out; the townsmice lit torches and soon the crowd dispersed for home. Hester followed Jared north back toward the town square. After trailing behind for a bit, she scurried up beside him.

  "What happened in there?" she asked.

  Jared cocked an ear and responded without looking back. "Politics, politics," he said. "Nothing for you to worry about, not now at any rate."

  Hester ran ahead and blocked the old mouse's way. "I want to know what's going on," she said, arms crossed. Her whiskers fanned out as she stared Jared down. "Why did you pick me to help you? Why are we even taking care of the rabbit?" Had she really just asked that?

  Jared sighed. "Hester... if Dr. Cotton wasn't so blatantly ambitious, I'm sure the rabbit would have been safeguarded to the hospital's care. But he tried to bully the council by whipping up some nonsense about contagious rabbit diseases. He just wanted a leg up on your father, but Argile played his paw well and calmed everyone down. He's quite good at that, well, among mayor-regents that is."

  "So the rabbit isn't dangerous?" Hester asked.

  "I'm sure he's dangerous," Jared said. He stepped around Hester and continued toward the smithy. "But probably not to us, and especially not as he is now." Hester turned and hurried after him.

  "You still haven't answered my question. Why pick me?"

  "Child, you've got a good head on your shoulders," Jared said. "I know, I helped put it there. And even if Cotton wasn't after a spot on the council, the hospital was built long after the larger rodents left Guineawick. There simply isn't a room large enough to hold a rabbit. Hamma's house will better serve our purpose. And here we are."

  Hamma's house stood tall behind his smithy; both buildings were strong and sturdy, the product of the best hamster-craft the town had known. Both had stood since the founding of Guineawick.

  Jared rapped his paw on the door. A bump, bump, shuffle, sounded inside, and then the door opened to Hamma's bright, chip-toothed smile. "Come in, come in," he said. Jared gestured for Hester to enter first.

  "And those Nurses are too chatty besides," Jared said as she passed inside.

  05

  A flicker in black and white.

  The rabbit's eyes flutter, then snap open. Screams echo in the distance, faint and illusory. He stretches out, but finds the bed empty. He rolls out from the covers and strains to see in the darkness. Another scream.

  He stands up, only to drop back to the floor; the smoke waters his eyes and scorches his nose.

  The burrow is burning.

  He pulls the blankets over his head to quell his coughing. Where are the children? He calls out, but the hot air chokes his lungs. He crawls toward the door, and onto...

  Snow?

  The air outside is crisp, the sun bright in the sky. The children roll and play in the fresh powder. His wife serves him a bowl of hot carrot soup; he downs it with one paw and holds her with the other. Something is wrong. Wasn't he just inside...?

  The front door swings open, and he crawls out into the night. Fires dot the neighborhood. Where are the children? The screams are louder now, but there's something else, something deeper. A rumble like water over rocks.

  The sound reminds him of childhood visits to the Southern Bend. A chill passes through him, and he can't hear anything. A neighbor darts across the field, then disappears under a crash of white...

  He stands at attention, his brother erect at his side. The chief paces before the line, resuming his inspection. An old memory, but he can still hear that terrible rumble...

  Fires crackle in his ears, and his eyes widen. Not water over rocks, not a rumble at all. It's purring. Spear! Where's his spear?

  Shadows coalesce around him, and he drops to all fours, teeth bared. He smells blood on the wind; the screams are distant no longer. He lunges toward the nearest shadow, but then it's gone.

  The purr turns to laughter.

  He cries out his clan's battle-song, surprised to hear it echo back. There are others!

  He lunges toward another shadow and bites hard. Shadow becomes cat, howling in pain. He dodges a massive paw and rolls into a snow drift. The warrior-song echoes overhead, and he sees his father charge into the monster. They collide and roll in the snow. Cat pins rabbit. No!

  He jumps to his father's aid, and together they manage to fell the beast. Celebration is cut short: other skirmishes erupt around them. For the clan!

  Then he sees her, off in the clearing, herding their children away, and his heart jumps for joy. Go my love, keep running. Go!

  No!

  They can't see what lies ahead. The cats are falling, but not fast enough, not as fast as the clan. His father flies past and into a tree, falling hard. This can't be!

  He dashes toward the field, and his brother sidles up beside him. When the cat drops in their path, they leap together into the flurry of fur and teeth and claws. Darkness.

  He opens his eyes; the dead cat presses heavy on his chest, fixing him to the ground. His brother lays dead, throat torn open, fresh red on the snow. He looks to the clearing and scans for his wife and children, but it's too late, he can't help them.

  A beast descends upon them, and he can't look away.

  He hears the cry of his father, the cry of his family, of the warriors, of his clan. They cry out to him and he can't answer. He can only cry.