Chapter 1
Simplicity
Dawn woke slowly that morning, sleep refusing to release its hold on her. The night had been rough for both her and her denmate, Sparrow, as a great storm raged across the landscape. She personally did not mind rain itself, perhaps she enjoyed the sound of its rhythm-less beating against the soil. But Sparrow, he feared the sound of thunder and the crack of lightning. And last night the sky was so fierce and angry that when the thunder clapped through the clouds the walls of the barn shook and the mounds of hey they made their nests out of trembled. She would have hated to be a cat without a roof over her head on a night like this. Once more she was grateful of her home and friend, but that did not stop her dreams from imagining what it would be like: darting through thunderpaths, claws scrabbling on rock, searching, searching, desperately searching for a place to stay. Fear stabbing her as lightning struck nearby. Kits wailing in fear. Finally curling in a dark hole to sleep.
Shaking her head free of the dream Dawn rose to her paws then lowered her chest in a long stretch, her forepaws splayed out before her claws extended. She blinked and looked at the morning light streaming into the barn in shafts through narrow slits in the roof. Partials of dust danced in the light as they passed through them. Beyond the hay she was standing on there was little to be found in this room save for tools and grain the twolegs used to feed the animals and put in dirt every new-leaf. Leaning against a wall a few bags of grains lay and behind it a small squeak could be heard. The prey was running already.
Dawn gave her pale ginger fur a shake, and a lick to her paws. She had trod on a sharp stone while escaping the weather with Sparrow. While it didn’t bleed the soreness was still there. She stifled a sneeze as dust from the hay scattered from her pelt. With her grooming done she looked to the brown lump of fur that curled into a ball on the next bale over. He was completely still save for the slow rise and fall of his fur. Looks like he had managed to fall asleep after all.
“Sparrow,” Dawn called prodding her friend with a paw, “Time to wake up.”
“No it’s not,” the young tom grumbled. He raised his head and blinked his green eyes, then curled back again resting his tail over his nose, “It’s still early. Time to sleep.”
“Oh no you don’t” Dawn pushed him with her nose until he was practically falling out of his nest and dangerously close to the edge of the hay bale, “You are waking up, right now.”
“Alright alright!” He protested scrabbling away from the edge, “No need to get all shovey.” He shook his fur free of dust then started clawing his nest back together. With it in one piece he cast his gaze around the early morning barn . “What the dung? It’s barely past dawn! I’m going back to sleep.”
“No you are not,” Dawn guarded his nest by sitting in it, “That storm drove all the mice out of their holes. We’re hunting.” Sparrow only sighed then jumped down from the hay bale.
“Fine,” He muttered just before disappearing outside the barn door, “let’s get this over with shall we?” Dawn followed, tail high.
Outside the sky showed no sign of the great rain that had just passed. The sky was as blue as her eyes and what little clouds hung there were thin and wispy. The sun warmed the land, but a gentle breeze cooled it perfectly. The air she tasted was still heavy with moisture however and the grass still glittered with dew. Sparrow walked through them grumbling as his paws grew wet. He did finally grow silent as he found a place to sit near the barn’s wall and waited for the mice to run out and into his waiting claws. Dawn continued on, he was the more patient of the two.
She chose to head into one of the fields. Shafts of barley grew here thin and tall like the legs of a river bird with shafts of grain protruding in several places. Based on how big the grain was getting and how often the mice came here the harvest was sure to be starting soon. Dawn walked through the field confidently and without hesitation. Season after season of living here had taken away all the uncertainty in her pawsteps and she weaved through the narrow passageways between stalks as if she belonged there. The ground was muddy underpaw and her steps made a squeaching sound if she wasn’t careful when she walked, but she did not mind.
Finally she stopped, ears pricked. Her movement had ceased so suddenly her forepaw was still in air above the place she was about to step. She had heard a mouse. She strained her ears until she heard it again realizing it was not on the ground at all. Looking up she could see the tiny brown prey clutching a stalk with its little paws and nibbling on a piece of grain. Dawn gathered her hindquarters and leapt, grasped the unsuspecting mouse with both paws, then landed perfectly balanced on her hind paws to give it the killing bite. Barely a few sunpaces and she had already made her first kill. The day was truly going well.
She returned to the barn with her mouse to find that Sparrow had already caught his. “Didn’t take too long,” He said shrugging when she looked at it. Normally he would wait at that hole until nearly Sunhigh, “Little guy was hungry anyway.” He picked it up by its tail and the two retreated back into the barn to eat.
“Looks like the twolegs might be harvesting the barley soon,” Dawn said swallowing a mouthful of mouse, “Probably going to be a little early this season.”
“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sparrow mewed jokingly batting her ear with a paw, “with all that grain gone you’d get that field o’ dirt all to yourself! I probably wouldn’t be able to keep you out of it.”
Dawn laughed with him. His words were true. When the grain was harvested it left only a wide patch of dirt. Every now and then mice would scurry across it, but it was rare due to the lack of cover. But when they did Dawn would race through there, fast as a rabbit, and chase the mice. Even if she wasn’t hunting she would still hare across the baron field, claws digging into the soil to drive her faster. She never tried to hide that she was most alive when chasing those mice rather than when she was stalking and pouncing.
“It would be nice to properly stretch my legs again.” She mewed, “besides, that yellow dog hasn’t tried to catch me in a while. I think it’s given up.”
Sparrow shuddered at the thought of the massive yellow dog Dawn would bait into chasing her just so she’d have an excuse to run. The result was always noisy and the twolegs always had something to yowl about it, but she always got away. “Just don’t get yourself eaten next time you try that.”
“I won’t
dad,” She teased and rubbed her head against him. With their meals finished she decided to climb to the top of the hay bales to the rafters. After walking across them they reached a place where the roof had crumbled, leaving a hole just big enough for them to squeeze through. The twolegs covered it with some kind of shiny black pelt to keep the elements away from their grain though. Still, she and Sparrow always managed to squeeze through it and it made a perfect access to the roof of the barn. Dawn pulled herself through and Sparrow followed. From above the two just looked over the farm, sitting like sentinels over their territory.
The land was vast and beautiful. Fields of grain and corn stretched out before them, ripe and ready to be harvested. Twolegs walked about the territory, completing duties the two cats could never understand. Always near them were one of the two dogs that lived on the territory, tails waging and tongues lolling out of their mouths. Mice they chose not to hunt darted between the stalks of grain and birds took wing as they pleased. The territory was beautiful in almost every way of looking at it.
Beyond it Dawn had never seen for herself. A great twoleg place stood with a wall made of smooth, cool stone wrapped around it shaped to look like a fence. Within the fenced twoleg place many trees grew tall and proud, their lacking thickness giving away their youth. Leaf-bare had caused the leaves to change to various shades of orange, yellow, red, and brown making it look as though the entire area was an entire flame sparking to life when the wind blew them. No matter what she had done or what she had thought she couldn’t help but be drawn to the fenced twoleg place.
“Do you think one day we should go to the fenced twoleg place?” Dawn asked while her thoughts still lingered on it.
“What do you want to go there for? The barn’s just fine.”
“Well, yeah. But haven’t you ever wanted to leave?”
Sparrow shrugged, “Every once and a while. But after I think about it there’s no reason to and then I remember where I am and that this is my home. Then my little thoughts of adventure just disappear.”
“Well,” Dawn sighed “it all becomes clear to me now. The truths the world’s been wanting to hear, needing to hear, for so many moons! You, Sparrow of the Farm, are the most boring cat to ever live!”
“Hey!” Sparrow leapt to his paws, “I’ll show you who’s boring!” He leapt at her, his paws wrapping around her neck and the two fell over, wrestling. They play fought for a moment, claws never becoming unsheathed, until their play had rolled them close to the edge of the angled roof. When the both of them stopped Dawn licked her sore paw.
“I guess you are right though,” Dawn said finally putting down her paw. Looking up she saw that Sunhigh had come. With their meal already finished the two cats had the day all to themselves, to do with as they pleased. Nothing told them what to do or where to go and they lived for themselves. Everything was peaceful and joyous. “I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be.”
She sat beside Sparrow, her pelt against his. She rubbed her head against his shoulder purring and could hear him purring as well. His tail twined around hers and he licked her head. “Neither can I, Dawn. Neither can I.”
In the afternoon that followed the two cats roamed their territory as freely as the birds that flew there. They ran in and out of fields, leapt between rocks in a small stream – Sparrow falling in once – and rolling in the soft grass. A twoleg kit once approached the cats and Dawn fluffed her fur to let them pet her for a while before they both continued on their way. The kit was still so small, probably only a few lengths tall, but seemed to be growing by the day.
As the sun began to set they began to search for their evening meal. Sparrow ambushed a young pigeon – made more of feathers than meat - while Dawn chased down a rabbit big enough for them to share. They ate both together finding themselves comfortably full afterwards. At Dawn’s idea they took the bird and put its feathers in their nests before they curled up to sleep. It made them delightfully soft. Dawn settled first Sparrow licked her once between the ears before settling into his, his back facing her. She watched his deep brown fur for a moment then fell asleep herself.
She found herself in a field abundant in mice and rabbits. This was the landscape she most often spent her dreams in. But this time no pleasure or good hunting greeted her. Hunger knotted in her belly. A sharp stab of pain lanced through her shoulder and another in her leg another in her tail. She gave a sharp scream in pain as she jumped to avoid what was hurting her, but saw nothing. Crouching, pain stabbed her belly like claws and she turned to run. In the corner of her vision she glanced a flash of a massive dog’s fangs and another jolt of pain came.
She was being attacked by a dog she could not see!