by miraphoenix » Sat May 29, 2021 3:58 pm
The sun rose in the sky, a vast and unblinking eye shedding off the blankets of clouds lying low on the horizon. Wildfires in some distant land colored the air in a faint orange, and the rendered the rising sun in the hue of a fresh wound. As the hot light burned away the morning mist, a small shriek was the last earthly expression of a small mammaliform, the sound cut short in a predator’s jaws.
The predator, in this case, was out of time, and out of place; a cat. The cream tabby shook their head once to make sure the small, rat-adjacent animal had stopped moving, before delicately placing the carcass on the ground and licking their whiskers clean while considering what they had caught with curious, odd eyes.
“Good catch, Sunshore!” Another cat, a black and red cat with stripes like twisted, burned branches emerged from the protective, spiny leaves of a low-growing cycad. The first cat looked up with a smile and a flash of pride.
“Thank you, Thymeskip,” they answered with a satisfied swish of their tail, before returning to inspecting the prey.
“It doesn’t seem all that dissimilar to a rat, or a large mouse? I suppose this was a lucky slip, aside from all of the birdlizards.”
Thymeskip padded over to Sunshore’s kill, smelling the mostly-unfamiliar flesh. The catch even smelled mostly like a rat or a mouse, although the teeth were strange; they were not the gnawing dentition of a rodent from the world they had left behind, but instead smoother, more peg-like, with round cusps. Still, meat was meat, and this was not the strangest flesh the clan had fed upon since being cast adrift in time.
“What’s even better,” Sunshore continued, licking their paw. “Is that I surprised a whole bunch of these little critters when I caught this one. So they shouldn’t be terribly hard to catch!”
“The spirits must be looking out for us, then,” Thymeskip chuckled; both cats remembered the first slip, which had carried the small clan into a world full of hard-shelled prey, where even those creatures who resembled fish wore armor and bone above their skin. Birdlizards aside, a time with small, familiar meat was going to be a welcome respite in an otherwise-chaotic path.
“Come, I expect this will be a welcome discovery at camp, and should help our hunters learn what is worth eating in this slip.”
With that, Thymeskip picked up the not-rat and walked off into the fern-packed underbrush with Sunshore in their wake. By the time the sun rose into the hollow the two cats had shared, all that remained was a few flecks of blood on the bare earth.
~~
Hssssss-CLACK!
An unfamiliar noise broke the dawn calm, and both cats pressed themselves into the dirt, eyes wide and tails as wide as their eyes. Thymeskip and Sunshore exchanged startled glances, before both cats steeled themselves and looked through a gap in the underbrush at what had made the sound.
From the clacking, Sunshore had expected a birdlizard or even just a bird; they had once startled a heron along the Silverstream before the slip had taken them away from Havenclan, and it had made a beak-clacking sound that was reminiscent of what they had just heard.
And in some ways, what they saw before them wasn’t not a heron. But it was also something all together different, and they couldn’t help but stare.
The first, most notable feature was the creature’s enormous beak, ivory tipped in deep black. Above the beak rested a pair of brilliant golden eyes whose round pupils were locked on a different spot in the undergrowth, where a rustle in the leaves of a magnolia sapling indicated the flight of some other denizen from the clearing, and above that was a crest of blazing red, the same color as the wildfire sun rising ever higher in the sky. Its long neck was very similar to that of a heron, Sunshore observed, but instead of holding its neck in a sinuous arch, the creature kept its neck far straighter, as if the spine was replaced with a sapling.
The neck was also fluffy like that of a heron’s, or like that of a birdlizard, but the most noticeable aspect of the creature were its wings. Unlike a bird’s feathered wings, this creature had wings bare of feathers like a bat, but unlike a bat, it had no fingers to support the membrane; instead, the dark, leathery surface connected from the tip to the hip in a smooth arc. The creature seemed to walk on these wings, judging from the taloned paws on the wing’s leading edge, and the wing itself seemed to be supported by the outer finger of this paw. It was a strange creature all told, like nothing the scout had ever seen.
And it was bleeding.
The creature lunged again at the fading rustles underneath the magnolia, Sunshore felt their guts twist and writhe to see the black-and-white patterns of its wings marred by a set of jagged, fresh wounds. All in an instant, its stumbling, awkward gait on the ground made sense; this was not the clumsiness of a flighted creature relegated to the ground, but was instead the clear aversion to weight-baring caused by serious injury.
Thymeskip, seeing that the creature was distracted, motioned to Sunshore to follow them away from the creature. Whatever this birdlizard-like beast was, it was not something that the de-facto leader of the Timelost wanted to tangle with, injury or not. They could see the scratches on that beak, and knew this strange creature to be a predator, and from its size, they would not be surprised to find out that time-swept cats could be on its menu.
“Come on, Sunshore, let’s go,” they urged again when the scout did not respond to the tap on the shoulder, their voice muffled by necessity and by the prey in their mouth.
“We have to help it, Thymeskip,” Sunshore whispered, their eyes locked on the creature. “Can’t you see it’s hurting?”
Thymeskip swallowed, and set the not-rat down. They knew Sunshore well, and knew the other cat to be canny and brave… And stubborn to a fault. If they left now, the tortie was sure they would find the scout back here on their own, a decision that could prove to be fatal in these dangerous, alien lands.
“Do you… Do you have a plan?” they asked, keeping their voice low.
Sunshore watched in silence for a moment, thinking. As they watched, the creature hissed a last time at the underbrush before straightening up and flattening its puffed-out featherfur, and bending its head to pick at its fresh injuries. The cat’s ears twitched as they heard a soft trill of pain, and their heart broke again to watch the creature staggering across the clearing, limping on its injured wing. Surely there must be something they could do to help…!
The tabby wracked their memories, amber-and-green eyes flickering as they ran through their memories. Long before they had become a scout, they had undergone a few of the trainings to be a healer’s apprentice, before Willowmask had rightfully observed that they were more suited to finding new herb gathering sites than using them. It had been a harsh but freeing observation, not uncommon from Havenclan’s healer, but although they had been below average at their studies, there were portions they remembered.
“Alright, here’s the plan…” Sunshore whispered, leaning in close to Thymeskip. The other cat swallowed, but agreed to the scout’s scheme.
With a mouthful of moss, Sunshore crept out from beneath the shade of the ferns, their tail held high, a reflexive feline gesture of good-will. Immediately, the strange creature began to hiss and clack its beak, its featherfur puffing out along its throat and chest.
As if on cue, Thymeskip emerged on the creature’s other side, dangling the not-rat from their jaws. The heron-creature paused, confronted by two unknowns. This was Thymestep’s moment, and the former warrior took it; with a deft movement, they tore a scrap of meat from the not-rat and tossed it to the creature. Instinct kicked in, and the injured creature lunged instead at the meat, snapping up the morsel before hissing menacingly at the cat for more. Thymeskip obliged, but tossed a nervous glance to Sunshore; the plan was working for now, but for how long?
The scout caught their leader’s glance and caught its meaning implicitly. Now was their time to act, and they took the moment. Moss in their mouth, Sunshore darted forward towards the heron-creature’s injured wing while it was distracted by the free food.
Time seemed to slow as they pressed the moss into the creature’s wound; they had only a moment to press the poultice into place and jump away before the not-heron’s beak came whirling around, stained with not-rat blood. Sunshore and Thymeskip crouched together, breathing hard and with hearts hammering in their chest, across the clearing from the creature as it hissed, but for all of its rage, Sunshore’s heart leapt to see that the bleeding had stopped. Still, though, it did not seem at all happy about the cats lingering in the clearing, and so both turned and darted back into the undergrowth, away from the beast’s clacking jaws.
“So, remind me why we did that?” Thymeskip panted as the pair finally came to a halt outside the scrape the clan was digging for itself beneath an outcropping of golden stone.
Sunshore was silent for a long moment, and Thymeskip turned to make sure the other cat was in fact still standing there.
“I… I had to help them,” they murmured, still looking back the way the pair had run. “They were young, and it didn’t. Seem right to have them join the spirits so early in their journey.”
The pause hung heavy in the air. Finally, both cats wordlessly turned from the wider world and into the den, back to the curious whiskers and questions of clanmates eager to hear the news of this new slip.
~~
Curled deep in a nest padded with ginkgo leaves and the fronds of a soft fern, Sunshore’s dreams were full of long jaws and longer wings, cast in shadow-black and bone-white, accented in the reds and yellows of brilliant sunset. Again and again, they saw the heron-creature running through their dreams, its long wings propelling it forward and across the endless dreamscape.
But in this fantastical realm, the heron-creature did not run alone; in between its curious paws, they could feel themself running alongside, a splash of cream against black and white.
“Sunshore.”
“Sunshore, wake up.”
Thymeskip’s voice was insistent, and the scout blearily opened their eyes.
“What’s wrong?” they yawned, still curled in the nest, not wholly convinced they weren’t still asleep.
“It’s the creature.”
Those three words sent electricity through Sunshore’s limbs, and they found themself standing upright before they had consciously registered wanting to.
Together, the two cats padded off, past the stirring and curious faces of the Timelost.
In the semi-dark, the white markings on the heron-creature’s face stood out stark and clear against the dusky undergrowth and whispering foliage.
As Sunshore drew close with Thymeskip, the other clan cats parted around them, and the scout could see raised hackles and puffed tails, extended claws held ready in the gloam. For its part, the heron-creature was hissing at the assembled cats, with warning beak-clacks, but it was not striking out, an observation that lifted their heart.
Having passed through the assembled Timelost, Sunshore stood before the heron-creature, looking up into its golden eyes. Up close, they were even more keenly aware of its size; from the ground to the top of its crest, it was as tall as a large cat standing on their hind legs, but it was nowhere as heavy as a cat would be at such a height. Its wings, too, were large even when folded, and Sunshore estimated their span at the size of an adult golden eagle’s. Unlike a golden eagle, however, where the talons were the major threat to a cat, they were keenly aware that the greatest threat this creature posed was in that vast, stabbing beak.
Standing before the creature, Sunshore felt their heart hammering in their chest, and they wondered absent-mindedly if their clanmates could hear the sound it made thumping against their ribs. The creature lowered its massive beak toward them, golden eyes locked with amber-and-green. Time seemed to slow, and Sunshore felt themself moving as they had in their dream, reaching out to rest a delicate paw against the black-and-cream beak. The clan held their collective breath, waiting for a tragedy…
That never came.
Underneath their paw, Sunshore felt the smooth, almost polished surface of the heron-creature’s beak, felt the surface sliding under their touch as the creature brought its beak towards its injured wing. The scout could see, in the light of a bright, massive moon, that the poultice they had—rather hastily, admittedly—affixed to its wing was beginning to become undone and fall off. However, the bleeding had stopped, and they could see the cracked, craggy surface of the torn flesh scabbing over.
“Are you… Asking me for more?” they asked, and their voice sounded odd in their ears as the first sound to break the eerie silence.
They nearly jumped out of their skin when the heron-creature gave a low, affirmative croak.
“A-alright then,” Sunshore whispered, eyes wide in the darkness. Behind them, cats shuffled around, passing herbs up from the clan stores; moss, as well as precious willowleaf and thyme to soothe pain and bring down the swelling in the skin. Disturbed by the movement from the assembled clan cats, the creature began to hiss, but calmed at a reassuring touch on the paw from Sunshore as the herbs were passed forward. They took a deep, steadying breath and drew on their memories as a former healer’s apprentice, roughly chewing the willowleaf and thyme together, before packing the poultice onto the wounds with a bit of the moss. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as they worked, but the creature remained steady under their touch, shifting its weight off the injured wing at every possibility.
After what seemed a small forever, the wound was packed and sealed, and Sunshore backed away, wiping the remnants of the chewed herbs from their muzzle and whiskers. They were expecting the heron-creature to back off in kind, and vanish back into the pine and ginkgo forest, but instead, the creature took a purposeful step towards them.
As they swallowed hard, Sunshore heard the cats behind them murmuring, nerves audible in the crowd, until Thymeskip’s smooth, low voice urged quiet. What was going on? They had heard stories from Trouttail when they were a kit, stories of cats who befriended birds or forest creatures and whose spirits had been joined with that animal until one or the other departed for the spirit realms. But the Timelost were far from the spirits they had known as members of Havenclan; could the realms really reach them here?
The creature took another step forward, and delicately touched its beak to Sunshore’s shoulder. The cat froze, looking up again into those fearsome, golden eyes. As their gazes met, there was no malice in those eyes, and they found themself moving as if in a dream, giving the creature’s shining beak the soft headbump of trust and affection. The Timelost parted like salmon around a bear as cat and creature walked off to the scout’s nest, the subtle crunching of the creature’s claws against pine needles the only sound brave enough to break the still night air.
~~
When Sunshore awoke the following morning to a sound more reminiscent of branches creaking in a high wind than of any animal they were familiar with, their first thought was that they must still be dreaming.
The insistent poking of their shoulder was less easily dismissed, and they opened their eyes to see the heron-creature from the day before, staring down at them with its big, golden eyes. Upon seeing them, the creature gave another croak of what Sunshore could have sworn was delight, or at least some degree of pleasure, judging by the puffing of the featherfur by the creature’s crest and cheeks.
“Do you… Need your wing checked?” Sunshore asked, their voice full of the hesitance of sleep, mixed with the confusion of seeing the heron-creature still here.
By way of response, the creature croaked again, then reached behind itself as the scout watched. With little ceremony, save a puffing of its neck feathers, it dropped a fresh-killed not-rat on the cat’s paws.
Sunshore blinked.
“Th-thank you?” they stammered, taken completely by surprise. By the texture of the carcass, they could tell it was a fresh catch. Had the heron-creature really hunted this for them?
The pleased trilling croaks seemed to indicate that was the case, and the cat rolled to their feet to take the not-rat to the prey pile. No sooner had they picked it up and began to walk off, however, when the heron-creature’s wing blocked their path. Confused, they looked up at the creature, before dropping the not-rat to the ground again.
“Did you mean this just for me?” they asked, and were answered by what they took to be an affirmative croak, with an emphatic beak-clack at the end. This provided a quandary; the Timelost survived through sharing with each other, so that no one cat bore the brunt of bad luck, but they also did not want to insult a creature whose beak was fully as long as they were.
“How about this, then,” Sunshore began, unsheathing their claws to begin dividing the not-rat into rough halves.
“How about we share this? Together?” Cautious but curious, they offered out a half of the not-rat to the creature with their question.
In the rising heat of the day, each second lasted an age as Sunshore watched the creature process their statement. With an emphatic croak and a nod of its head, the heron-beast snapped its beak down upon the shared morsel, swallowing its half whole. Despite themself, Sunshore grinned and ate their own half; for all of the creature’s strangeness, perhaps a similar spirit to their own ran in its chest?
~~
The sun rose and fell, and every night, Sunshore was sure this was to be the night the strange creature parted ways with the Timelost.
At night, the other cats murmured and whispered their concerns that it would surely eat one of them before the sun rose over the horizon. In response, the creature hissed at the other cats when they drew too close to itself or to Sunshore. The scout, for their part, tried their best to balance smoothing over the concerns of their clanmates with tending to the heron-creature’s wounds and needs in the lingering evenings. When the evening finally gave way to night, the pair would rest together in the evenings, the creature’s long neck draped around the cat’s curled form.
The daytime was an entire other experience. The creature woke early and would wake Sunshore with a gentle nudge, and the two would wander out for the morning hunts. At first, they were joined by Thymeskip, wary about leaving their friend alone with the strange creature. After several trips where the creature showed no interest in hunting and eating either cat, Thymeskip gave their permission for the pair to head out alone, to the clear delight of the heron-creature.
Out on these trips, Sunshore learned that the creature, although young, had a significant advantage it had never occurred to them to think about; height. From its position above the undergrowth, the creature could see the movement of smaller creatures, either ones fleeing from Sunshore’s hunting paws, or ones that it could drive towards the scout.
Half of the prey would be taken back to the Timelost stores, but the other half Sunshore shared with the creature, and it was clearly growing fast on the increased availability of food. In just the short time they had been hunting together, the creature’s wound had begun to heal, and it had grown even taller.
Both facts were noted by the clan, and one night when the pair had returned home from a successful hunt, Thymeskip approached Sunshore before the cat and the heron-creature could retreat to their nest.
“What is it, Thymeskip?” the scout asked, placing down the juvenile birdlizard they and the heron-creature had caught on the day’s hunt. The leader seemed agitated, and they wondered at why; they could see other cats watching them in the clearing, and a bad feeling began to shudder down their spine.
“The clan is—”
Thymeskip was interrupted by an abrupt clack of alarm from the heron-creature, all of the long feathers on its neck puffed out and shaking as it hissed at something behind the two cats. Sunshore whirled around, and the icy shiver of fear that shot down their spine stole their breath away.
Two birdlizards had appeared from the underbrush. One was directly behind Sunshore, and they saw the other out of the corner of their eye, frozen in the act of sneaking around for a better ambush position.
The scout recognized the kind of birdlizard from their patrols, and it was a kind the heron-creature had actively nudged them away from when the pair had found the traces of their passage. Taller than a cat by twice, with inky black feathers and talons like a golden eagle from their past lives, Sunshore had taken to calling them groundeagles, and they were every bit as predatory as they looked. They looked to Thymeskip, fear freezing their limbs to the ground; even aiming to drive the groundeagles away would likely result in severe injuries, and from their postures, Sunshore was almost certain the groundeagles were on the hunt.
Hssssss-CLACK!
The sound split the air like the snap of a lightning-hit tree, causing cats and groundeagles alike to jump at the sound. In the stunned silence that followed, Sunshore risked a glance over their shoulder, and were awed at the sight.
Another clack shattered the air, the heron-creature’s beak slamming shut with a clear show of force. As the cat watched, it reared onto its hind limbs, the feathers on its neck extended and shivering to the extent of their length. And its wings…! Sunshore gasped to see its wings extended to their full spread, black and white standing out stark and dramatic in the failing light of the day. In that moment, hunkered to the ground between the two beasts, they understood; the heron-creature was coming to their aid!
A third clacking slam echoed in the clearing, but the stunning magic had gone. The groundeagle raised its crest and pawed the ground, talons clicking against loose stones as it gave its own cry, a grating screech. With a glance at their leader, Sunshore prepared for battle, a fight they only hoped they could win. Above them, they heard the leathery hiss of the heron-creature’s wings shifting…
But the battle was over before it had begun.
Sunshore’s mouth hung open as they tried to process what they had just seen. In that space between heartbeats, the heron-creature had folded their wings and lunged at the groundeagle, catching the terrestrial predator by surprise. Its enormous beak had found its target, slamming into the back of the groundeagle’s head and neck.
As the cat watched, the heron-creature shook the already-limp form and threw the carcass across the clearing before turning to hiss and clack its stained beak menacingly at the remaining groundeagle. Seeing the remains of its partner lying slumped against the rock it had come to rest against, the second predator gave a shriek and sprinted off into the gathering night, its feathered tail vanishing into the undergrowth and the dark. The heron-creature gave a last hiss at the groundeagle’s retreating form, then turned and ambled over to Sunshore, angling its massive beak as it lowered its head to the ground, clearly looking them over.
“I… I’m alright,” they whispered, awe at what they had just witnessed quieting their breath. In the quiet between spaces, they nuzzled the heron-creature.
“Thank you? Thank you.”
Sunshore raised their head as Thymeskip stumbled over, the other cat clearly rattled and stunned by what they had just witnessed.
“I. I don’t think the clan will need to meet with you about our… Friend, here,” the leader said, wide eyes visible in the dark as the fur across their shoulders slowly lowered.
“For as long as they wish, they may stay with the Timelost. We owe them a tremendous debt.”
~~
The sun rose over a changed Timelost, and for the first time since the heron-creature had joined them, Sunshore rose before their gangly companion. They stretched carefully to avoid disturbing the creature, and smelled the morning air, crisp and clear before the activities of the daylight hours released their scents to the world. Satisfied, they left their nest to sit atop the rocky overhang that the Timelost had chosen as their den for this slip and took in the morning as the mist rose off the cycads, bracing themself for what they had been planning.
As they sat, they reflected on a conversation they had with Thymeskip. After the heron-creature had eaten and curled to sleep, the two cats had talked long into the night, until after even the fireflies had ceased their lightning dances. The conclusion they had come to, was that the creature had clearly chosen to stay at Sunshore’s side, just as much as Sunshore had decided to remain with the creature. By that token, it was only right that the creature be given a name in the tradition of the clan; if defending the clan against not one but two predators by themself was not worthy of a name, Thymeskip didn’t know what was.
The suggestion the leader had given, was to try and reach out to the spirits of this slip to provide the name. In the absence of a direct line to Starclan, reaching out to any wandering spirits would have to suffice, and Sunshore took a deep breath to steel themself for the task to come.
They closed their eyes, feeling their paws on the warming, chalky stone, felt the sun’s warm embrace heating their shoulders and the cool morning mist chilling their chest and belly. Taking another deep breath, the scout reached out…
<<Sunshore?>>
Their eyes snapped open, and they came face-to-beak with the heron-creat—Zahrek, their mind corrected.
“Zahrek? Did you come looking for me?” the cat asked, and the name felt right immediately, the syllables reminiscent of the clacking chatter that they made.
<<I did! And my name! You heard me!>> Their voice was proud, full of a unique kind of joy, the ecstatic bliss of being seen.
<<You were not there when I woke, so I came to look for you.>>
“I’m touched,” Sunshore said with a soft smile, getting to their feet with a stretch, feeling their muscles sore from sitting.
“I came up here to reach out to the spirits for your name, and I think they answered! But perhaps not in the way I intended.”
At this, Zahrek smiled, the movement only noticeable at the highest corners of their beak. Sunshore watched them, curious; did the young creature know something they did not?
<<Oh, I believe the clan was wanting to ask you something? Or tell you. The color-patched one was asking for you,>> they added, with a beakclack of emphasis suggesting strongly that they had nearly forgotten to bring up the most important part of the message they carried.
“Thymeskip was looking for me?” Sunshore exclaimed, already setting off down the small stony rise. “Did they say what about?”
<<Not precisely,>> Zahrek admitted, trotting along behind the cat with their long, rolling gait. <<Something about a curious feeling across the spine?>>
An ice-chill spread through Sunshore’s heart, as the mists that still curled through the cycads and ferns took on ominous, sinister meaning. Their face must have betrayed some of their emotion, as Zahrek brought their beak down to look the scout in the eye, rich gold meeting amber-and-green.
<<Did I say something wrong, Sunshore?>> they asked, and the nerves of insulting the scout were clear in their voice. Dimly, the cat wondered if this was what it was like to have an apprentice.
“N-no, nothing wrong. Well, maybe something,” they stumbled, tail lashing as they looked nervously around. “You know… You know what our group is called, yes?”
<<The Timelost, the pa—Thymeskip said, right?>>
“That’s correct. We… We gained that name, because we. We don’t stay in one time,” Sunshore explained. “We don’t know why, but sometimes the mists gather and we. Well, we slip away, and we find ourselves in some other place.”
Silence passed between the two for a long moment.
<<Does that mean…?>>
Zahrek was the first to break the silence, and Sunshore felt their heart break at the fear in the young creature’s words. They had been all alone in the world, hurt and afraid, when the cats had found them, taken them in.
“I… I want you to come with us.” The words were spoken from the heart, and Sunshore reached forward to touch Zahrek’s beak with a paw. From the tightness in their cheeks, they were dimly aware they must be crying.
<<I want to go with you. I want to go with you, but how…?>> they asked, stretching out a wing to try and blow away the mists.
“W-well, when the mists come to take us away, we all gather as a clan,” Sunshore explained, wordlessly gesturing for them both to start walking back to camp. “When we are all together, we make sure we can all touch at least one other cat, so we don’t get lost in the slip. The mist rolls over us, and we arrive somewhere else? It’s a bit hard to explain.”
Zahrek nodded, a pensive look in their eyes. Sunshore saw the uncertainty, and tapped their wing with their tail, putting a confident smile on their face. The simple gesture seemed to break through some of the flapling’s worry, and they bent their head to gently nibble at some of the scout’s long fur. Together, the two pushed through the undergrowth and into the clan clearing, to find the clan already bunched together, Thymeskip waiting with an anxious expression on their face.
“Ah, there you are!” the leader exclaimed, relief clearly on their face. “The feeling is getting stronger; I think you’re just in time.”
“Zahrek found me just in time, then,” Sunshore answered with a soft echo of their usual grin. “I found their name, but perhaps not in the traditional sense. They would like to join us, if they could?”
Thymeskip looked up into the flapling’s eyes, and at a gesture from the leader, they brought their head down to cat level. Lifting their head in regal posture, Thymeskip pressed their paw against the flapling’s forehead, and Sunshore could have sworn they saw a flicker of shining light beneath their friend’s paw.
“Sunshore, Zahrek? Come and find your place,” Thymeskip proclaimed, gesturing towards the pressed crowd of cats. Both moved forward, and the crowd parted to allow the pair into the heart of the crush.
Thymeskip glided to the front, the clan forming a teardrop behind their leader. Each cat nestled against the others, tails and paws entwined with that of their neighbors’, so that none might be separated by the mists that grew and swirled around, over, and through them all. In the heart of the clan, Sunshore placed their paw atop Zahrek’s, looking up at the towering creature with a genuine, true smile.
“See you on the other side, my friend…!”
If Zahrek had a reply, the mists stole it away as the fog rolled across the clan and all trace of the cats slipped away.
The croaking and calling of some distant shoredweller cut through the fading mists, and Sunshore opened eyes they didn’t remember shutting. It appeared to be a beach, and strange new creatures slid into the water, startled by the arrival of new creatures and the coolness of unseasonable mist. For all the marvels of a new slip, Sunshore paid them no mind, instead looking up and around for their companion, for their friend.
And saw Zahrek just where they had been, pressed into their side, eyes wide and neckfeathers fully puffed out.
Despite themself, Sunshore gave a cry of utter happiness to see their friend and companion safe and present. At the front of the group, Thymeskip gave a true smile as they took a headcount, ensuring all the clan had come through the slip intact.
“Why don’t you two go find a place for the clan to rest tonight?” the leader suggested to the pair. “The beach is nice enough to visit, but we will need shelter tonight.”
No sooner had the words left their mouth, when Sunshore and Zahrek were off and running across the shore, matching pace for pace and jubilant in the motion. Thymeskip could only smile. In the Timelost’s uncertain world, Sunshore had found what mattered most; a friend who would never leave their side.
[5567 words]
