THE NUMBNESS CREEPING through Arch's chest was almost debilitating, consuming her heartbeats as she sat off to the side, watching her father from the shelter of a blackberry bush. Jag was asleep, exhausted from the events which had occurred earlier in the day, but Arch herself couldn't sleep.

     She couldn't bear to think about closing her eyes without her mother's comforting presence beside her, rocking her into her dreams and being there when she woke up. She couldn't understand where Shadow Fox had gone — she had been there, right there, and yet there was nothing but a shell, and despite King attempting to explain what had happened, the young kit couldn't wrap her mind around the concept of death.

     Shadow Fox couldn't be gone. She would come back eventually, right? Cats didn't just go away.

     She had watched her father pace back and forth for a long time, worry and sadness pooling off him in waves. He'd left for a while, then returned smelling of dust and leaves, before disappearing again with Shadow Fox's sleeping body.

     Arch knew her mother was beyond sleeping, but the idea of taking a long nap was easier for the kit to comprehend. One day she would wake up — King probably made her a comfortable nest so she could sleep peacefully until then.

     The big ginger tom reappeared later in the day, his fur caked with mud and grime, his legs shaking from exhaustion, and his blue eyes heavy with sadness. He didn't look Arch in the eyes, passing by her to flop on the ground beneath the blackberry bush without saying a word.

     She knew better than to bother him as his eyes fluttered shut, as a moment later, his quiet snores filled the silent den, almost rattling the branches around them. He was tired, she knew, having been up for half the night, but she still sought out his comfort in this uncertain time, where her emotions were so confusing and her mother was gone. She already yearned for the scent of the larger molly, and wanted to hear her soothing voice.

     What would she do without her mother?

     Shadow Fox had taught them about life, about hunting, about love. King had not, and while Arch loved her father dearly, she could go without the stale food he brought back. He was too friendly with the upright walkers, and had mentioned in the past that maybe their lives would be easier if they went to live with them permanently.

     Whatever happens to us, Arch thought to herself as her eyes fluttered shut, we can't let the uprights take us. The forest is our home, and it's where Shadow Fox is.

     Eventually, the vibrating snores of her father and Jag lulled the young molly to sleep.

∴ ════ ∴ ❈ ∴ ════ ∴

      Arch was standing in the middle of a dark tunnel.

     Surrounded by shadows, enveloped by darkness, the young molly couldn't see anything, the earth pressed up around her. Each movement landed her muzzle against a solid, dirt-covered wall which was damp and brittle.

     The closeness was suffocating, in a way.

     "Hello?" She called, listening as her voice rang throughout the cavern, disturbing the chilly silence as it bounced off the earthen walls which surrounded her figure.

     And it was cold.

     Arch hated the cold.

     Cautiously, she began to walk forward, crushing dirt beneath her large paws as she moved, lengthening her stride with each step until she was bounding forward on nimble legs , searching for a way out.

     But the cold tunnel simply grew colder, and the air grew more stale. Darkness continued to obstruct her vision, until panic began to worm its way into her heart.

     "Is anyone there?" She shouted, not halting in her endless sprint through the dark tunnels. The shadows seemed to curl toward her, yearning to choke the life from her body as if they were living, breathing organisms. They craved her life-force. They craved her breath. "Dad? Jag?"

     Arch's paws caught on a loose stone which stuck up from the ground beneath her, and suddenly, the world tipped. The she-cat was rolling downward through the tunnel, striking the earth violently until there was nothing left to hit.

     She was free-falling.

∴ ════ ∴ ❈ ∴ ════ ∴

     Jolted awake almost immediately, Arch felt herself rolling away from her makeshift nest with a squeak, flopping over onto her stomach as reality settled in. Her fur prickled with alarm, but the cold air and stale scent of dirt faded quickly once she became aware of sunlight streaming through the branches of the bush-den where they'd taken shelter for the night.

     Jag's ears perked up, and in a daze-asleep daze, she turned her head to stare down at her littermate, sprawled out on the floor of their temporary den.

     "What are you doing all the way over there?" She mumbled, shaking sleep from her body in confusion. "The ground is cold."

     Arch groaned, shoving her nose into her paws. "I fell."

     "That's not good." Her sister got up, stepping over to her and curling up beside her. The young molly instantly felt her body become warmer, and she snuggled closer instinctively. "Feeling better?" Jag asked.

     "Yeah . . . thanks," Arch murmured, shaking away the unsettling feeling as she embraced the feeling of her littermate beside her, eventually falling back into a light doze for some time.

     The next thing she knew, she was being nudged rather roughly from above, aroused from a now-dreamless slumber she'd found herself in. She lifted her muzzle off her paws, blinking up at the muscled figure of her father.

     His pelt was ruffled slightly, and his amber eyes were distant with an emotion Arch didn't quite understand, but she squeaked as he bent over again, shoving his nose against her until she rolled over and forced herself to her paws tiredly, followed by a grumpy Jag, who merely flopped over the first time their father nudged her.

     The other kitten was eventually on her paws, shaking out her fur and walking toward the den entrance.

     "Up, up," King nudged Arch's rump with his nose, urging her to move from the shelter of the den after her sister, who shook out her brown pelt with a tired yawn. "Come along, my kits, we need to hunt."

     There was a sort of urgency to his normally calm tone, which was not something either of the kits was used to hearing from their father. Despite that, Arch trotted out into the sunlit clearing, appreciating the bit of warmth that touched her coat, signaling the start of a new day. A new day without Shadow Fox, but a new day where the three of them were still here, still fighting for their place.

     King brushed past the two kits, sweeping his tail over their noses and beckoning them further into the trees. Jag gave her a long look, before prancing after him, and the younger kit hesitated, looking around the small clearing that still held the faintest scent of her mother. Was this really the end?

     "Arch!" King's voice beheld slight irritation, and she wasted no more time in falling behind, launching into the trees and leaving her mother behind. When she caught up to her father and her sister, they began walking again, weaving around bushes and beneath low-hanging tree branches.

     The larger cat leapt up onto a fallen tree trunk, standing tall and regal as he watched his kits approach him. "We're going hunting for some food." He told them, twitching one ear back.

     Jag huffed, flopping forward and laying on her belly. "It's too early for that," she complained, while Arch yawned sleepily at her side, causing their father to frown.

     "It's not," he protested. "We need to eat."

     "I don't want to eat now!" Jag wailed, kicking her legs a bit. "I'm tired!"

     King twitched his tail. "Did you not sleep last night?"

     "I didn't sleep good."

     "But you still slept," he pointed out, "so there's no reason for you to be tired right now. Get up, we need to hunt or we'll go hungry for the day."

     Jag sat up with a huff, glaring at the ground. "Mom would have let us sleep." She muttered, and Arch felt a twinge in her heart.

     King paused, his back turned toward the two kits for a long moment, before he spun, shoving his nose roughly against that of the older kit. Arch flinched back at the rage glowing there in his eyes. "I know she would," he hissed, "but don't compare me to her. She's not here, and I have to do what is needed to keep the both of you alive."

     Jag didn't say anything else, and their father pulled away, turning and beginning to walk further into the woods. Arch laid her tail over her sister's back reassuringly before following him, stepping slightly over fallen twigs and dried leaves to avoid making too much noise.

     The forest was buzzing with life as the early morning sun rose up high over the trees. Branches rattled with the light wind, sending leaves spiraling down to the ground around them. Arch could hear birds chirping above, hidden away by the tree's canopy, and even caught sight of a squirrel between some bushes. But if her father saw it, he paid it no mind, continuing his walk along the faded sandy path that wound through the woodlands.

     "Dad, you said we were going to hunt. There's good prey here." Jag called up, and King twitched his ears to show he'd heard her.

     "We're not hunting here."

     Arch wrinkled her nose. "Why not? The prey is big and fat."

     "Yeah . . . but this isn't the place." He replied firmly. "Come on, we're almost there."

     The young she-cat followed her father and sister downhill, leaping over a fallen log, weaving around a few thick tree trunks until they finally halted in the middle of a sandy clearing.

     King looked around, his nose twitching and his eyes simmering with something that the young kit couldn't quite make out. He was definitely on edge, but after a moment, he turned back to the little ones.

     "Alright, I have a game for us to play." He mewed. "I need to test your hunting skills, so the first one to bring back three pieces of prey will get a special treat."

    Her heart swelled up at the idea. "A special treat?"

     The big ginger tom nodded. "I have treats for both of you, but the winner gets to pick which she wants first."

     Jag glanced sideways at Arch, who caught her gaze and held it. A moment later, both kits pranced into the undergrowth, scattering once the bushes overshadowed their bodies.

     Arch was unfamiliar with this area, as there was a lot more shrubbery as opposed to the open landscape and tall grass of the place she once called home. The memory made her heart hurt, and her chest started to ache. They would never be happy like that again, not without Shadow Fox.

     She pushed through a tangle of branches belonging to a blueberry bush, entering a small clearing that smelled strongly of other cats, causing her to wrinkle her nose at the stench. Across the clearing, nibbling on a seed near the roots of a tree, was a mouse, oblivious to her presence. She brightened at the sight, stalking forward and ensuring she was careful with where she was stepping so as not to crush any leaves or twigs as she approached. Curling her tail over her back, she pounced, her claws out, and landed on top of her prey, skewering it before it was even aware of its demise. The limp body now lay between her paws, and the young cat cleaned the sprinkles of blood from her claws before she scraped some dirt over the mouse and looked around for something else to hunt.

     In her silence with the kill, and the lack of a shriek from the mouse, she had left the clearing mostly undisturbed, which became evident when a robin fluttered down onto a low branch, eyeing the forest floor in search of worms. Arch waited until it decided to drop to the ground, and she silently moved around the backside of it to keep herself out of its sight. Once she was certain it was distracted, she moved forward, one step at a time, excitement creeping into her throat. She was going to win the treat, she was going—

     Crunch.

     The robin's head snapped up, and the bird stared right at her. The world seemed to freeze, but no amount of hope could stop the shriek of warning that the creature released before it flew off in an explosion of brown feathers, leaving the kitten in stunned silence on the forest floor.

     She looked down at her paws, where a small twig now lay crushed beneath her weight. Her claws slid out to dig into the splintered wood, frustration bubbling in her chest.

    She only had one piece of prey now, and the robin's warning had likely scared away anything within a reasonable distance. Silently, she wondered if Jag had managed to catch more than her, and if so, what the treat was that she got to choose from. The young kitten sighed softly through her nose and walked over to where she had buried the mouse, uncovering it and picking it up in her jaws, before she began to follow her own scent back the way she had come, back toward where she had last seen her father. It wasn't a long walk, and soon enough, she had pushed her way back into the small gap between two trees, finding King waiting for her.

     "Hey, kiddo," he greeted her as she dropped her catch at his paws, "how'd it go?"

     Arch sat down and brought one of her paws to her muzzle, running her tongue along the thick white fur that dappled her coat. "I only found a mouse. Everything else scattered." She admitted, not looking him in the eye for fear of seeing the disappointment there.

     Her father made a soft noise at that, something similar to amusement, which caused her to look up in surprise. He was smiling at her, reaching a paw forward to place it on her head. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You're four moons old — you won't be perfect at hunting."

     "But the treat—"

     "You both will get a treat," he reminded her, "and if Jag finds more prey, she just gets the first pick, though I think both options are great." His eyes softened. "You won't be missing out just because the odds weren't favorable to you."

     Arch stared at him for a moment, then huffed out a breath. "Fine." She muttered.

     King lifted his gaze as the bushes rustled again, revealing the figure of Jag, who held two mice by the tails in her jaws. She walked over to them and laid them beside the other one, looking up at their father. "I couldn't find one more." She complained.

     The big ginger tomcat nodded once, inclining his head. "Well, you still won by default since you caught more than your sister, so you get the first pick of the treat." He touched his nose to Jag's forehead before he pulled away and walked into the underbrush, returning a heartbeat later with two huge feathers in his jaws. When he dropped them in front of the kits, he spread them so that Jag could get a good look at both. "One of these is a tail feather that came from a red kite." He told them. "They're big raptors, rare to find. See how the feather is red? You don't get these often." His paw ran over the bristles of the feather before he gestured to the other. "This one is from a golden eagle, even bigger, and this one comes from the wing. Less vibrant, but larger."

     Jag looked between the two feathers, while Arch watched from a few paces away. Now, as she saw the treat, she didn't really care which one her sister picked, or what she was left with, because both of the feathers were beautiful. After a moment, the other kit reached forward with a paw to pull the red feather closer. "I want this one!"

     King nodded. "Excellent choice, little one." He turned and nudged the eagle feather toward Arch. "Guess you get the bigger feather, Arch."

     Arch pulled the golden-tawny feather close to her, marvelling at the size of it. "Thanks, dad!"

     He smiled at the two kits, allowing them to examine their feathers for a moment before he twitched his tail. "Alright, calm down. Each of you should take a mouse and eat. You need to keep your strength up and your bellies full." As he spoke, he pushed one mouse to Arch and one to Jag, taking the final one for himself and settling between the two kits.

     Arch laid down on top of her feather, the dead mouse between her paws as she began to eat ravenously, her hunger becoming evident once she took that first bite.

     "This has been a great day," Jag said after a moment of silence. "I wish Shadow Fox was here."

     King tensed, taking the last bite of his mouse before lifting his head. "Me too."

     "How are we going to keep going if she isn't here?" The kit's voice made Arch feel that pain in her chest again. It was a hard thought to swallow, that their mother wouldn't be with them anymore.

     The ginger tomcat shook his head. "It will be hard, but these things, sadly, happen. We just have to follow our hearts." He looked down at the grass after he spoke, staring at the bloody stains from his food that slicked the grass.

     Arch glanced toward her sister, confused as to why he was speaking like that. The sisters locked gazes for a long moment before they looked back up at their father.

     "I'm sorry, Arch, Jag. Your mother was a wonderful cat, and I wish she could be here with you." King looked up from his paws. "At least she would know how to take care of you."

     Jag tilted her head quizzically. "But you're taking care of us just fine." She pointed out. "We have food, and shelter."

     "And you," Arch chirped. "That's all we need. Mom always said that we're stronger together."

     The big ginger tom was silent for some time after that, watching the kits finish their food. Once they'd left not a morsel left, he stood up and let out a shockingly heavy sigh. "Come on, then," he mewed, "we should get going."

     Arch blinked. "We aren't staying here?" She thought they would make a den here and rest, as there seemed to be enough bushes and enough prey to feed them until morning.

     King shook his head slightly. "No. I want to go a bit farther before we rest for the night."

     "Where are we heading, anyway?" Jag asked him, springing to her paws as their father made his way to the edge of the clearing. "Like, are we going to keep traveling until we find a place?"

     "I don't know," King sighed softly. "We will . . . know when we get there, I think."

     Arch and Jag scrambled after their father quickly, making sure to grab their feather, before wriggling under the bushes and back onto the sandy path that led them deeper into the forest. They ran ahead of King once out in the open, laughing and tumbling around while the larger cat walked, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of a threat. The sun was sinking through the trees, casting long shadows and cooling the air as the light began to fade. Only when King's eyes began to noticeably glow in the dimming light, did he finally call off their trek, happening upon a bush with the dirt around the rink dug out, leaving just enough space for a cat or two to wiggle inside.

     "Go on, get in. There's rain coming, you shouldn't be out in the open." The big ginger tom urged, raising his muzzle skyward. "You'll be sheltered there."

     Jag scrambled down into the hole beneath the bush, followed by Arch, who snuggly pressed up against her sister. They looked up their father as he tore his gaze away from the sky.

     "What about you?" Arch asked, tilting her head. "There's no room here for you."

     King laughed softly. "That's quite alright, dear. I have . . . something I need to do anyway, and I need you two to stay here."

     "Where are you going?" Jag asked him, crouched beneath the branches of the small bush. "When will you be back?"

     Their father touched her nose in comfort. "I need to get something from a friend of mine. And don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. Just stay here, and wait."

     He then turned and touched Arch's forehead with his nose, a purr rumbling through his body. She could have sworn there was something broken in his gaze as he stepped back, sweeping his pale gaze over the two of them.

     "You both are so strong," he admitted, "stronger than I have ever been, even now. You have your mother's wild spirit, and her desire to survive, something you couldn't have possibly gotten from me. Please understand that I'm so proud of you, and that if things had been different, I might have been able to provide a better life for the two of you."

     "We don't need a better life," Jag huffed up at him, head tilted. "We have you, and you're all we need."

     Arch nodded in agreement. "So long as we stay together, like Shadow Fox always said, we will always survive."

     There was a tortured look in the larger cat's eyes as he swished his tail. "She was always so wise." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Sometimes, it just doesn't look up in time for things to go differently. But keep her words close to your heart. You'll find that her wisdom will help you as you grow big and strong."

     Jag and Arch watched as he turned away, only glancing over his shoulder once more to smile at them.

     "Wait here, I'll be back soon. I promise."

     Then, he was gone.

     Arch settled down beside her sister and watched the wind whistle through the trees. The silence stretched on, neither one speaking as they eagerly waited obediently for the return of the ginger-and-white tom. The sun, once peeking out in a bright orange glow from between the trees, now vanished completely, leaving the kits in darkness.

     They waited for a long time, but King never came back.

───────────────── ❀. '•° ,   *

NOTE . . . before any of you get angry and start blaming King for
abandoning his kids, you need to
understand: he loved those two
with all of his heart, but his only
love was just brutally murdered
and he doesn't have the means to
care for them. He didn't sign up
to be a single father. And yes, he
had this planned from before
the kids woke up. This was his
attempt at making their last day
together a good one, so they had
fond memories with him.