The two felines stare each other down for a long moment. Well, I say two felines, but I’m not even sure a nunda counts as one, let alone a raptorcat. Lathani is significantly bigger than the as-yet-unnamed raptorcat cub – she’s about the size of a medium-sized dog where the other cub is probably like a small lion cub in size. We’re all frozen, wondering what will happen. At least, that’s what I’m doing, but no one else is moving either.
Finally, Lathani reaches out a paw towards the raptorcat cub with the same kind of curiosity as she showed towards the beetle a few days ago. Before it bit her, of course. Almost as if I’ve suddenly become prescient, I can see what is going to happen before it does. Maybe that’s because it actually has happened – with the beetle.
“Lathani,” I call, startling everyone a little. The nunda cub flashes a look up to me and freezes, her paw in mid-air. The raptorcub in front of her twists around to stare at me too, as does Bastet. Crisis temporarily averted – now it’s time to ensure that the situation doesn’t devolve. I stride over to her and scoop up the adventurous raptorcat cub. “I want to introduce you to some friends of mine,” I tell her, resorting to old habits in my stress, my mind latching onto ‘friends’ instead of whatever the hell the four raptorcats are to me now.
Walking over to Bastet, I dump the cub down in front of her. The little pause gives me enough time to quickly consider how to do this. “This is Bastet, and she’s caring for these three cubs like Kalanthia does for you.” I indicate each of the raptorcats one by one. Lathani looks up at me, her head tilted curiously, her ears alert. “The little ones are cubs like you, but they’re smaller and more fragile than you are, OK?” I get the sense that she doesn’t quite understand. “So they’ll probably want to play with you, but be careful not to hurt them, alright?”
I don’t know whether it’s my Animal Empathy or whether Lathani’s starting to develop some form of mental communication, but I get the sense that she’s still a bit confused, but that she’ll try not to...crunch them like leaves? I suppose that makes sense. Well, if it’s enough to stop her from biting and clawing at them, great. I’ve already started teaching her how to mind her teeth and claws in play after becoming tired of her using them on me. I guess that Kalanthia doesn’t even notice – her fur is probably enough armour against Lathani’s milk teeth.
“Bastet,” I continue my introduction, “this is Kalanthia’s cub, Lathani. Be careful of her,” I warn, impressing down the link that it isn’t necessarily because Lathani herself is dangerous, but because she’s got an immensely dangerous protector behind her. Bastet gives me a look that makes it very obvious how little she needed that warning, and given how Kalanthia spoke to her last night, I get it. “In fact, you may gain some points with Kalanthia if you show that you’re also protecting Lathani,” I add, passing over the memory of how I’d met the pair.
I feel her perusing the memory carefully and coming to her own conclusions about it. Then pushing it to one side, she stands up and saunters over to the cub who, in contrast to earlier, is as much smaller than the adult raptorcat as she was bigger than the raptorcat cub. Lathani backs up a little, looking unsure, but Bastet just does a walk around her of inspection, or that’s what it appears to be. Then, ducking her head down, she rubs it against Lathani’s once, and after that returns to her spot by the fire.
Lathani’s left standing near the entrance on her own, looking a touch shocked and completely unsure how to take that. I’m not certain either, but all I can guess is that raptorcats probably rub heads with their pack-mates like lions do, and her doing it to Lathani was some sort of gesture that indicates lack of hostility at least. Though whether Lathani will be able to interpret it is another thing – she rubs heads with her mother, but she doesn’t exactly have a pack….
Anyway, crisis over, it’s time to get on with the day.
“Lathani, go to your mother, would you?” I tell her. “I’ll be digging the pit today, and I’m sure you’ll be able to play with the cubs later if you want.” Thank all that’s holy, she actually listens to me. The nunda cub chirps cheerfully, regaining her composure, and then turns tail and dashes out of the cave.
“Right,” I say, looking down at Bastet, my heartbeat finally slowing. “So you’ve met Lathani now. I figure that the best thing for the cubs is to get used to her, and for her to get used to them. Maybe you could spend the majority of the time outside with them today?” I suggest. Bastet seems to consider the idea for a moment before sending a sense of agreement. “OK, good. Do you think they’re hungry?” That’s answered by a feeling of strong agreement. “Fine, I’ll put a lizog corpse outside in the shade – let’s take them out now.”
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Once more, I get the sense of agreement so Bastet picks up one cub – the adventurous one – by the scruff of it’s neck and I get the other two by grabbing one with each hand. Going outside, I nod at Kalanthia in greeting – receiving an amused rumble in response – and head for a spot which I know stays shady for a good portion of the morning. Setting the two cubs down, I pull out the half-eaten carcass and put it down in the shadow. The cubs let out cute little rowls and squeaks of excitement, piling into the flesh and starting to tear it off hungrily.
Not all that keen on watching the cubs get blood everywhere, I search around for my digging stick, finding it near the pit where I left it last night. Spike’s nowhere to be seen – probably out foraging. At the thought of my porcupig, I’m reminded of the task I set him. Walking over, I inspect my plants. There’s some green visible! The first leaves are coming through in all five spots!
The dirt around them is looking a little dry, which means I need to go fetch water. Finishing off the last of my pre-boiled water from my canteen, I pop back into the cave to grab my sneleon-shell bowl. I finished the soup last night, so I might as well use it to collect more water. Quickly warning Bastet, I offer to wait for her to be ready so she can come down and drink some water at the river. She accepts but sends me the sense of not being ready, so I just start digging while I wait.
The hollow is coming on well. When I stand in it, the deepest point is already just a bit deeper than my foot to my knee. Honestly, I want it to reach mid-thigh just to make sure that the fire is well-contained, but I figure that I may be finished by the end of the day if I really put my back into it. Plus, if Spike can help me it might even take less time than that as his horn loosening the ground definitely speeds things up.
I’m starting to get into the work when I spot Bastet sitting at the edge of the dip patiently. The cubs are tussling together over a bone or something similar.
“Ready?” I ask, wiping my already-sweaty brow with the back of my hand. I’ve probably also smeared dirt all over it, but I honestly couldn’t care less – it’s not like there’s anyone around here to take a photo and put it on social media, after all. Bastet just goes and stands near the cubs, nosing them towards me.
Pulling out the shirt I used as a sling yesterday, I prepare to put them in again. They’re wriggling which makes it difficult. No sooner have I got two in and am reaching for the third when one of the cubs already in the sling manages to pop over the top and tumble out again. I feel like it’s somewhat of a Sisyphean task – or like herding cats.
It actually takes Bastet letting out a grumbling growl and nipping the worst offender for them to settle down enough for me to pack them in and tie the shirt so it won’t let them drop out as easily. Finally, we set off down to the river. Well, they do say that a baby turns your life upside down, and here I am with three. Baby raptorcats for sure, but there are three of them.
Lathani watches us go, looking rather like she’s considering joining our little cavalcade. She even takes a few tentative steps towards us before Kalanthia lets out a disapproving rumble. Chastised, she turns around and starts playing with a flying insect, in typical cat-fashion pretending that that was what she’d been wanting to do all along. Walking down the hill, I reflect that having the raptorcat cubs around might actually give Lathani some playmates her own age, or at least in the same development stage.
Down by the river, I set the cubs down near Bastet, taking my time to wash a bit, fill my canteen, fill my sneleon shell, and then collect some more pondweed for my soup. It’s nice down here - not too hot because of the shade, peaceful with the sound of trickling water, and with Bastet and her acute senses here, I feel like I can relax a bit.
I even sit down and close my eyes briefly, just letting myself connect with nature in a sort of meditation, something I’ve been trying to do at odd moments during the days. I don’t feel any sort of indication that I’ve gained a point in Wisdom, but that doesn’t matter – just being at peace surrounded by a living world brings me a sense of satisfaction. It’s a bit alien to me, used to the city environment as I am. But it’s nice, even if it’s strange.
Opening my eyes, I look at the cubs. Seeing two of them tussling over a stick, I’m reminded that I haven’t yet given them names. One of the two is predominantly black with only small patches of grey and dark green. It would be a bit cliché to call it ‘Shadow’, but I’m considering it anyway. Or maybe ‘Ninja’ would be better – its retreat and rush tactics to try to get the stick support that as a potential moniker.
The other is paler, mostly grey of various shades with only some dark marks, striking in comparison, around its eyes, ears, nose, and on its wing stubs. That one is much more determined, gripping onto the stick with mouth and both front paws, stubbornly refusing to let go. ‘Cloud’ might be a good name in terms of its colouring, but not attitude. What about ‘Stormcloud’? Or ‘Tempest’? I’ll think about it.
As for the third… I look around trying to spot it. Wait… Isn’t it the adventurous one who’s missing? The one with more dark green on than the others, the one who almost picked a fight with Lathani this morning as well as almost broke my pottery last night?
“Bastet,” I start slowly, “where’s the other cub?” The adult raptorcat had been lying down relaxed, her eyes half-shut, also watching the two cubs tussling. At my question, she tenses, lifting her head off her paws and looking around. She sends an image to my mind of the cub in question playing with her tail and then an unsure feeling. Great.
I groan. I think I’m going to call that one ‘Trouble’. When I find it.
At that moment, a shriek rings through the air. Beside me, Bastet leaps to her feet, the other cubs rushing to her side. She sends me an unmistakable feeling: danger.