~A Storm is Brewing~

A drop of water seeped through the leafy bramble ceiling of Echo’s den and plopped onto his head, waking him. Water pattered outside as he stretched open his eyes. He gazed out the entrance of his den. Dark gray clouds hid away the sun, and rain poured from the sky, dripping off leaves and collecting in puddles on the ground below.

Echo let out a small growl of annoyance.

At least I was able to fall asleep without time-traveling.

Another raindrop landed on Echo’s head.

Then another.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Not a storm! Echo burrowed himself further into the moss and feathers that made up his nest. I just collected this bedding a few days ago! More thunder made Echo fold his ears closed with his paws.

“Echo!”

Who could be out in this storm? Who would want to?

“Ech! Wake up!”

Echo lifted his head.

“You’re late!”

Echo scrambled to his paws. Late?

Then he remembered the funeral.

Of course! A torrent of guilt seized Echo’s body. Stupid cerrien! What kind of friend are you?

He stumbled quickly to the entrance of his den to see Inferno standing there with a flat stone, wrapped in leaves, in his jaws. Through the downpour Echo could make out his glowing orange ear-tufts and tail tip. His dark brown fur was dripping and soggy.

“You’re soaking wet!” He came all this way in the pouring rain because of me. He hates getting wet!

“I couldn’t just leave you asleep.” Inferno’s voice was muffled by the package in his mouth. C’mon! Let’s go!” In a flash his figure was being dissolved into an orange haze.

“Wait for me!” Echo called, shaking his damp fur and racing after Inferno. The whole forest was hidden in the rain, with the light from Echo’s eyes useless through the thick curtain of downpour. Inferno became distinguishable once more, and Echo squinted his eyes, determined to not lose sight of him.

“I’m so sorry I was late!” Echo called to his friend. “It took a while for me to fall asleep last night! Please forgive me! I’ll do anything you want to pay you back!”

Inferno halted. Echo’s paws skidded on slimy leaf litter, and his pelt grew hot when he nearly careened straight into his friend. The cerriens had arrived under an ancient oak tree spewing gnarled branches in all directions. Below gathered many shapes, discolored by the rain. Even past the sheet of downpour, Echo could detect a thick layer of sorrow that had been nestled among the group.

“We’re here,” Inferno scanned the group as though searching for familiar faces. A sliver of amusement crept into his voice as he added, “And calm down! Of course I forgive you!”

Echo let out a small sigh of relief and looked at the group before them. The rest of the funeral guests were huddled in a ragged circle, murmuring in quiet conversion. Sodden, dull pelts clung to their bodies, blending into the murky atmosphere. Eyes, horns, and spikes—though dimmed—glinted through the wet curtain.

The massive oak oversaw the clearing—murmuring in the wind as comforting as a cerrien shielding its kittens from the weather. Its swaying branches, like overgrown, twisted claws, stretched into the clouds. Orange and yellow leaves, half-hidden by the rain, danced while clinging desperately to the branches.

“My dad says this was Coal’s favorite tree to climb,” Inferno explained. “They would race up and down it all the time when they were younger.”

Volcano, who had perched on one of the wide roots of the oak, broke away from the small crowd to meet the two young cerriens. His bright orange paws, chest, and ears were dulled in his grief.

“Welcome,” Volcano greeted them somberly, giving Inferno a lick on the head and touching noses with Echo politely.

“I have the note I want to send to his spirit in the Spirit World.” Inferno gently deposited his package at Volcano’s paws.

“Thanks. I’ll put it with the others.” Volcano picked it up and disappeared into the group. After a few moments his voice rang throughout the clearing. “We may start now.”

They were all waiting for me! Embarrassment warmed Echo’s pelt despite the chill of the rain.

The cerriens shifted aside to let Echo and Inferno into their uneven circle. The group was ringed around a hole dug into the ground. A body lay at the bottom, surrounded by moss and many leaf wraps of other cerriens’ notes. The dead cerrien’s fur was neat and licked smooth, and the wounds that had been sliced across his flanks had been concealed by poultices. He lay on his side, his legs splayed out as though he were merely sleeping. His eyes—which would usually have been glowing in the gloom of the rain—were dusky and empty, hollow and lifeless. The glazed, cloudy look in his eyes reminded Echo of the bodies he had seen while time-traveling, and he shivered, suddenly aware of his own mortality.

“We welcome all the cerriens able to come this morning.” Volcano returned to the tree root, lifted his head, and gazed upon the circle of cerriens before him. “Here we stand before the body of Coal. His death was not one anticipated, but whoever is responsible for taking him away from us, from his family and friends, will be met with great consequences.”

Murmurs of agreement rumbled among the group.

Echo listened in respectful silence as cerriens stepped up to say their goodbyes, share stories of Coal, and praise his service to the tribe—with every cerrien around them offering comfort and support.

“He was a noble guard.”

“He always put the tribe and his family before himself.”

“He was so sweet, always wanting to help…”

“And adventurous, too. Fascinated by the world.”

Finally Inferno took a pace before his uncle’s fallen body. “He was the best uncle I could’ve asked for. He would always make time for us—despite his duty as a guard, and he was always so positive and smart.” His voice shook with passion. “We’ll always remember him—and the special place he made in our hearts.”

There was a stab in Echo’s heart. Have I ever heard him sound so distraught? He wanted to close his eyes, to shut away the sight of the dying flare in his friend’s ear-tufts and tail-tip.

Somber murmurs of agreement rose up from the rest of the cerriens. Volcano padded to his son and licked him between the ears. Rose, who had been sitting on Inferno’s other side and spoke just before him, pressed against him for comfort for both herself and her brother.

“That was great, Inferno,” Bright nodded towards her son, her warm gaze tinted with mourning.

Volcano lifted his nose. “Now, as we say goodbye to this cerrien, we must know this: his body bears many wounds, but his spirit is now safe and well in the Spirit World. Each of us will meet him again one day.”

Inferno’s gaze fell to the ground.

At the last word, Volcano circled the hole until he made it to a pile of dirt on the other side. With the help of cerriens around him, he gently pushed the earth into the hole, showering the cold body and caking his pelt with soil. When the hole was filled, the cerriens all pressed down on the grave with their paws, packing down the earth so that the stone to represent Coal could be laid. Finally, they stood aside in respectful silence, the air so quiet Echo could’ve heard a mouse scuttling on bare ground.

“I’m sorry,” Inferno murmured in a low voice sounding like that of a cerrien that had spent many days without rest. “May you find peace in the Spirit World.”

I’ve seen him look upset before—but never like this. Like he’s lost all his energy. No cerrien deserves to feel a loss such as this—a sudden, unexplained tragedy tied to such a crime of evil.

“I wish I could’ve done something,” Inferno whispered. There was a quiet shuffling sound. Echo glanced down to see Inferno’s claw-tips leaving indents in the soil. Slowly, Inferno’s mien of anguish seemed to be overtaken by a layer of spite for something. For whatever killed Coal.

A group of cerriens to one side formed a hole in the circle, revealing a rock, almost reaching a cerrien’s shoulder. It was smooth and marked with Coal’s name and paw-print. The stone was hauled in using a long strip of bark. The cerriens bearing the stone pushed it off the bark and to the center of the packed down earth.

"Now the grave will be marked, this spot claimed as his," Volcano declared. "A symbol of his joys in life and the entryway of his spirit in death.

Echo spotted something in the corner of his eye. A black figure—searing into the bubble created in shared sorrow. Its uncanny white eyes were hauntingly familiar. No pricked ears or startled eyes from the rest of the group portrayed an awareness of the figure.

Is that…? Echo blinked. It can’t be!

Inferno nudged him, curiosity filling his stricken gaze. “What are you staring at?”

Echo shook himself. The cerrien figure had gone. “Nothing,” he swept the image of the figure aside. “Nothing.” He realized that the rest of the cerriens were beginning to break out of their ranks and leave the ceremony. “Let’s…get out of this rain. My den is closest.”

Rain still rattled the trees upon arrival at the bramble thicket, and the inside was still dripping from the roof. Echo stifled a growl of disgust. Looks like no dry bedding for the next few days. Great.

“We’d just get even wetter if we went all the way to the moor to my cave,” Inferno remarked, his mew devoid of emotion. “Let’s just stay here for now.”

“Maybe, if the rain stops, we can go hunting or something,” Echo suggested.

The pounding of paws outside answered his words before Inferno could even open his mouth. Echo’s pelt spiked. He whipped around as the sound grew louder and louder…

But the cerrien rushing for Echo’s den was dark, almost-black, with violent eyes and horns. Spire. A closer look through the downspout revealed that their friend was stumbling towards the den, eyes wide with shock. Echo jumped aside as the cerrien exploded into the den, nearly crashing into him.

“Someone attacked me!” Spire sputtered.

“What?” Echo froze.

But Inferno had lurched for Spire and now stood a whisker’s distance away from them. His tail whipped wildly and his ear-tufts blazed as though they were about to set the whole thicket bursting into flames. “Who? Are you okay?”

“All I found out was that it was a cerrien with glowing blue eyes.” Spire’s words barely escaped as their flanks heaved. “It might’ve had spikes on its back too, but I can hardly see my own paws in this rain!”

“Tell us everything that happened!”

“I was heading home from my medics’ class! Then through the rain I heard the rustling of bushes, and just before I knew it—someone slammed me to the ground! I was lucky enough that a scout came to save me! He said to head to a Medics’ Camp while he went to the Leaders to report it, so I stopped by. They checked me out, and then I decided to come here.” They dropped into a crouch. “I bet it was the cerrien who killed Coal, Auburn, and Velvet! I know it must be!”

“Did you get a scent?” Inferno was trembling. “Anything?”

Spire shook their head. “The rain washed it away.”

Inferno lashed his tail, its tip flared up with rage. “The murderer has killed Coal and now attacked Spire?” His eyes glittered with anger. “I’m going to put a stop to this!” He marched to the entrance.

“Inferno, wait!” Echo hurried to intercept his friend. “You can’t just—”

“Echo!” The voice of Feather sounded from outside. “Watch Thistle and Thorn for me while I go out for a bit!” She recoiled at the state of Spire. “What happened to you?” Her voice was scathing.

“I got attacked by a cerrien earlier, possibly the cause of Coal, Auburn, and Velvet’s deaths!” Spire warned Feather. “So be alert and report anything you see that’s suspicious! The cerrien had blue eyes.”

Feather blinked. “Blue eyes…” A chill passed down Echo’s spine when he realized she was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

Does she think I did it?

But before he could be sure he was reading her correctly, Feather let out a low growl and hurried away.

What was that about?

The kittens were about to hurry into the den when Echo intercepted them with his tail.

“Wipe your paws first,” he told them. “I don’t want you tracking mud into the den.”

Inferno turned back to Echo as the kittens obeyed. “What do we do now?” he demanded. “We can’t stand idly by as the murderer prowls out there, waiting for another chance to strike!”

“Calm down,” Echo said. “We’ll be safer just staying here. The murderer being out there is the exact reason why we should stay inside.”

Inferno eyes narrowed to slits.

“I don’t like the way she looked at you,” Spire muttered.

They saw it too! “Me neither.”

Inferno gasped. “She could report you!”

“For what? Having blue eyes?” Echo rolled his eyes. “What would she even say? She can’t report someone just because she doesn’t like them.” He turned to his brothers, now huddled side-by-side by his nest. “What’s Feather doing in such weather? Did she tell you anything?”

“No, she didn’t!” Thorn’s small body shivered.

“I still can’t grasp what we’re sitting around for!” Inferno snapped. “Spire has just been attacked! By a murderer! And for some reason Feather thinks Echo had something to do with it!"

“And a scout reported the attack,” Echo licked one paw and drew it over his ears. “There’s nothing we can do that someone else hasn’t already done. What do you think we should do? Go out in the pouring rain and interrogate every cerrien we see with blue eyes? And the Leaders would have to be fluff-brained to believe a report with blue eyes being the only piece of proof.”

Inferno’s gaze snapped to Spire’s. “What did that flea-bag say to you? Anything?”

Spire shifted their paws. “N—nothing. I tried to say something, but they didn’t reply to me.”

“What about the scout?”

“I think the scout said something—I don’t know. Everything was a blur.”

Thorn shifted his fluffy pelt closer to Echo’s. “What happened?” he whispered.

“Nothing,” Echo swept his tail around him. He raked his gaze across Inferno and Spire’s. Are you trying to scare them?

Spire lowered their gaze apologetically, while Inferno let out an indignant huff and settled down, tucking his tail around him.

I’m sorry. Echo’s eyes lingered on Inferno, hoping he would understand. There are better times for this conversation.

“It’s so cold outside!” Thorn complained.

Spire had started licking their own sodden fur. “It is fall now. Soon it’ll be winter.”

“I hate winter!” Thorn hissed.

“How do you know? You’ve never been alive to see it yet.” Echo drew his tail tightly around himself.

Thorn huffed. “Well—if it’s anything like this, than that must mean it’s terrible.”

Echo nodded. “I’m not the biggest fan of it myself. The way thick, deep snow clogs your fur and leaves it soaked.” A droplet of water dripped on Echo’s head, and he shuddered.

“You like water!” Inferno flicked his tail. “And you eat fish!”

“For your information, there’s a massive different between swimming and rain! Swimming is something I would do willingly—I always know when I’m about to get soaked, and getting a fish is the reward. There’s also the option to get out of it whenever I want. But raining can happen without warning, and there’s no way to escape it!”

A streak of lightning split the sky, and for a single heartbeat it was as though all of time stopped. Agitated clouds rumbled in the distance. As the noise died away, Echo shook himself, masking his bristling pelt. He planted both forepaws on his tail to keep it still, but his fidgeting then relocated to his paws.

“I don’t really see how you can enjoy swimming, though!” Inferno winced as though imagining the current of a river sweeping itself through his fur and dragging him away. “It’s not very fun getting your fur wet no matter when or where it is! Not to mention fish is slimy and gross!”

“You’ve never even tried it.” Amusement settled itself in Echo’s mind, spilling into his whiskers so that they quivered. “You can’t make assumptions about stuff and then treat them as fact without finding a way to prove it.”

“Is fish hard to catch?” Thorn piped. “I wanna learn to fish one day.”

“Well, it takes some skills—”

“I bet I’d catch way more fish than Thorn ever could!” Thistle dropped into a playful crouch.

“You wouldn’t catch anything if you interrupt the one trying to teach you!” Thorn gave him a cuff over the ear.

“Yes, I would!” Thistle bounced back up, straightened his legs as though attempting to appear taller. “I’m the best hunter!” He turned his head towards the gap in the brambles. “I’ll prove it! I’ll go out there now and catch enough to feed everyone!”

In a dark gray flash, Thistle had darted through the entrance, sending drenched leaves sliding in Thorn’s direction.

“Thistle!” Echo was up and chasing after the his brother’s form before he even realized his paws were moving. “Get back here right now! You’ll get sick in this cold rain!” Or worse!

His brother looked even tinier against the vast, raging forest outside. The bare trees loomed overhead, suddenly ominous against the gray, irate sky.

Wind and water slicked back Echo’s pelt and cut across his face as his racing paws beat against the sodden leaves. Thistle was merely a hazy figure ahead, his strides clearly uncoordinated. A faint, deep-green haze flickered ahead, the most prominent signal of Thistle’s presence.

“Thistle!” Echo called out to the kitten. “Come back!”

Then the green disappeared, the thick curtain of rain swallowing him.

“Thistle!” A voice called behind Echo.

Echo skidded to a halt on the slimy, leaf-littered ground and glanced behind him. “Inferno?” He panted. “What are you doing out here? Your fur will just get wet again!”

“I want to help!” An orange glow steadily intensified until Inferno’s smaller shape manifested itself in the storm. “I don’t want you risking getting in trouble for something you didn’t do! Spire is watching Thorn.”

“Thank you!” Echo felt a rush of warmth, despite a protest forming in his head. You aren’t helpless!

A monstrous, bright claw of lightning appeared and disappeared in a flash, and hardly even moments later, thunder rumbled loudly. Echo covered his ears again as the wind began to pick up.

“How in all of Fintaria are we supposed to find Thistle in this?” Inferno swung his head in all directions. “He could be anywhere!”

“Let’s keep going the same way,” Echo suggested. “He couldn’t have gotten that far.” He dashed ahead, Inferno hard on his paws. Could he?

“Thistle!” Inferno's cry echoed uselessly against the trees.

“Thistle!” Was it pointless to call out his name? Would he even listen?

A yowl boomed from behind.

Echo skidded on the slippery array of leaves beneath his paws. He parted his jaws to say something, but his words were flung away into the rain. A force barreled into him, throwing him off his paws.

Echo’s limbs thrashed when paws planted themselves on his shoulder.

A cerrien—thankfully smaller—with one piercing blue eye was looming over him for just a moment before there was a blinding flash of orange.

Inferno!

Relief replaced some of Echo’s fear as his friend unbalanced the attacker, sending them stumbling to one side and releasing their grip on Echo in an attempt to right themselves. The assailant dropped into a crouch, their blue eye wild with fury. Echo rolled over and was back on his paws in a heartbeat. He slowly drew himself nearer, forcing his tail from slinking between his hind legs.

“This must be the cerrien that attacked Spire!” Inferno’s voice was quivering with rage. “How dare you kill my uncle, Auburn and Velvet, and surprise attack Spire and Echo? They’re all from your own tribe!”

The attacker didn’t reply. They rushed towards Inferno, who dove to the side so that they missed him completely.

Echo squinted to get a closer look, breathing in the cerrien’s scent. Sky-blue horns and spikes lit up the cerrien’s fur. What must be a golden-brown pelt marked with stripes clung to her small frame.

But there was something horribly off.

Echo nearly reeled back in surprise. She wasn’t missing an eye at all. Her bottom eye was clouded and darkened, eerily familiar to the lifeless eyes he’d seen staring back at him only this morning. A wordless growl escaped from between her teeth. She’s not even speaking to us. It’s as if she can’t.

“Something’s wrong with her!” Echo’s tail lowered and folded close to his hindquarters. What was that white stuff bubbling from her mouth?

“Go report this.” Inferno said urgently. “I’ll deal with her.”

“Are you crazy? You can’t—”

“Echo, I’ll be fine!” Inferno bunched his legs to leap at her. “I’ve been itching to give the murderer of Coal wounds they’ll never forget!”

“But—”

He thought his heart might burst when Tumbleweed leaped just past Inferno and bolted straight for him. Echo flung himself to the side and fled, as far as his legs would take him.

Lighting flashed over a pond just visible behind a few trees. It’s yawning, black mouth opened wider as the cerriens neared it. They emerged from the trees and raced just along the bank. Another bolt of lightning crashed even closer, sending Echo’s body lurching towards the pond. He stretched out his claws to grip the bank, but the earth was too muddled by the rain. The sudden touch of cold water sent shock through his body.

He stretched open his eyes, the world underwater too blurry for a few moments. He could just make out the surface, barely flickering with gray. He churned his paws and propelled himself upward, almost missing the blue peeking into his field of vision.

Then he saw Tumbleweed.

The golden-brown cerrien had jumped in after him, and was sinking under the water.

She can't swim!

Echo paddled sideways, swimming above Tumbleweed. He grabbed the scruff of the cerrien’s neck and dragged her upward with all the strength he could muster. When he broke the surface he inhaled a huge gulp of air, then grabbed hold of the scruff again.

The cerrien wasn’t moving.

Echo hauled Tumbleweed to the bank, his own body feeling more like stone. He released her scruff once more to suck in a shuddering breath, then dragged her further from the water with another heave. His gaze wandered to her flank.

She isn’t breathing!

Echo circled to Tumbleweed’s other side, forcing his trembling paws to remain on her chest as he pumped the water from her airways.

The rustling of rain and wind was so loud that Echo didn’t even detect the rustle of bushes or pawsteps behind him.

Warmth brushed his head as Inferno emerged at his side. “What did you do?”

“I—uh—” What do I say? That I stopped her by falling into a pond? “Tumbleweed can’t swim, so I led her into the freezing pond.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I—I didn’t leave her there long enough to endanger her life. And now that she’s half-drowned, she’ll be weakened, and possibly unconscious. We should take her to a Medics’ Camp. The northern one is closest”

“Did your plan have to involve you jumping headfirst into an ice cold pond and risking the fact that you could have gotten hurt? What if Tumbleweed had known how to swim?”

“As if your plan wasn’t any different! And you know I’m a good swimmer!” Why did I have to let it escalate like that?

Echo nearly jumped out of his fur when she let out a loud gasp and started coughing up water. She lashed a weak strike at Echo’s leg, but it was too easy to step out of range of her claws. Her eyelids drooped once more, and she was unconscious again.

“Wait!” Inferno nudged Echo was a paw. “What about Thistle?”

Echo stiffened. “Fish droppings!” How did I forget?

“The rain’s getting worse. He probably found somewhere to shelter by now. Do you want me to take Tumbleweed to the Medics and you go back to your den? You’re shivering!”

“Stop treating me as if I’m some incapable kitten. I’ll go with you. I may be shivering-cold and wet, but I’m not helpless! Besides, we need to find Thistle as fast as we can, and you couldn’t carry Tumbleweed by yourself, could you?”

“I guess. I know you’ll keep insisting you can come if I keep telling you to go back anyway.”

It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same! “Alright, let’s go.”

Echo grabbed hold of Tumbleweed’s scruff in his mouth again, while Inferno propped up her belly with his shoulder. It took them a moment to steady her without her sliding back onto the soaked grass.

“This’ll be a fun journey,” Echo growled.

They slowly began to carry her through the forest, towards the thicket that sheltered the northern Medics’ Camp. For the first time that day, a sliver of gratitude flickered in Echo’s chest, as most cerriens would be in their dens and not out to ask questions if they saw two cerriens carrying around an unconscious body. If Feather had no evidence then, she could end up having some now!

They sheltered under a tree next to it when they arrived.

“What are you doing here? State your name and presence!” A sentry sitting by the thicket hurried towards them with a reproachful glare that sent a chill down Echo’s spine. He didn’t dare look at Tumbleweed or his own pelt. Great. We probably look like we just killed someone, and I probably look like I’ve been dragged through the forest by the tail and then thrown into the ocean!

“It’s a long story,” Inferno explained. “We need to speak to a Medic.”

“Is that cerrien dead?” The guard pointed at Tumbleweed with a paw.

“Oh, no!” Inferno’s tail shot straight up. “She’s unconscious. Not dead. It’s a long story.”

“You may speak with the Medics, but you,” the guard fixed his gaze on Echo, “can wait outside with the other cerrien so that I can keep an eye on you.”

“Okay.” Echo twisted around to smooth his ruffled pelt with his tongue.

Did we really find the cerrien who murdered Coal? So the murderer had been a cerrien that clearly carried some sort of illness or condition—not any level of spite or true ill-intent. But what kind of illness caused a cerrien to randomly attack other cerriens and even kill them?

When it came time for his paws he wrinkled his nose in disgust, and instead wiped them on the leaves. There’s no way I’m getting mud taste in my mouth!

It wasn’t long before Inferno returned. “There’s a Medic waiting on the far side of the camp. They said we can bring Tumbleweed there.”

Echo found himself searching Inferno’s gaze. I bet he’s glad we might’ve just given Coal justice. There he found an intense, sparkling gaze of triumph.

Inferno helped Echo support Tumbleweed as the cerriens carried her to the entrance. Upon the gap in the thicket, they had to drag her, for the brambles kept dragging at Tumbleweed’s pelt. Echo grabbed hold of her scruff while Inferno supported her hindquarters. They entered slowly and gingerly, though Echo suppressed a gasp with a protruding twig snagged his pelt.

“If only there were an easier way,” Echo grumbled.

“Sorry about the entrance!” A brindled gray and orange cerrien with twinkling amber eyes trotted from a crack in a massive boulder on the other end of the clearing. “I’ll be sure to have some trainees trim those brambles shortly.”

“It’s okay,” Inferno meowed.

“Come into the cave.” The Medic waved his tail and led them across the clearing.

Upon entrance, Inferno was the one who spoke, “So, our friend Spire was attacked just earlier by a cerriens with a blue eye and spikes. We think this is the same one.”

“Was Spire seriously hurt?” The Medic’s eyes widened.

“No. They said they only had a scratch on their flank, but it wasn’t very deep and they were able to clean it up themselves.”

The Medic nodded. “Good to hear.”

“She attacked us, but it seemed so…unnatural. She growled and snarled as if she were a savage animal. We didn’t know how we would be able to beat her without her running off. Echo thought of a plan—if the cerrien couldn’t swim, it would weaken her to be exposed to water. So he led her into the cold, freezing water of the pond nearby.”

The Medic watched on in silent, polite horror.

“He didn’t leave her in the water long enough for her life to be at risk,” Inferno reassured him. “He soon dragged her out and made sure she was breathing. She then went unconscious, so we could drag her here.”

I’m not about to sit aside as Inferno does all the talking for me!

“Uh—greetings and salutations, Medic—” Echo dipped his head. “She had this weird look in her eye. Her top eye was glowing with fury, but her bottom eye…looked cloudy and lifeless. There wasn’t any light coming from it. As though it were…” Dead. The words faded away before he could finish.

The Medic’s gaze grew distant in thought. “I’ve…never seen anything like that.” He bent his head and sniffed Tumbleweed all over. “I’ve never heard of a sickness that alters a cerrien’s behavior in such a way. I’ll be sure to send a messenger to the Leaders, scouts, sentries, and Lawkeepers to inform them about what’s going on. We’ll be sure to conduct a proper examination of Tumbleweed and figure out what we should do.”

Inferno nodded, that spark in his eyes creeping past a shield of politeness. “Do you think this cerrien is the murderer?”

The Medic’s eyes clouded in thought. “Potentially. We’ll be sure to conduct a full investigation, don’t worry.”

“I hope this is the killer!” Inferno lifted his chin. “I hope this cerrien gets the proper punishment she deserves!” He paused and took in a breath, as though containing himself from going on further.

Then Echo remembered why they had even been out in the first place. “Um—sorry that this is off-topic—but uh…have you happened to see any straying kittens outside the mound? Small, about two moons? Gray striped fur and green eyes?”

“Actually, yes. A guard reported seeing one outside.” The Medic blinked sympathetically. “He was hiding from the storm, but he wasn’t hurt or anything. One of the guards took him to the Hatchery.”

Echo nodded, stifling a great sigh of relief. Thank Fintaria he's okay. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You can just leave Tumbleweed with us and be on your way now. We’ll take it from here. Thank you for bringing this new information to us. Now we know a lot more about this whole thing than yesterday.”

“You’re welcome,” Inferno said.

“Goodbye!” The Medic called as they left. “I hope you find that kitten!”

Rain still battered the landscape when Echo and Inferno exited the Medics’ Camp headed for the thicket that was the Hatchery. Echo could feel himself relax on the way down, as though some force pressing all around him had finally been released.

“Let’s make a dash for the Hatchery!” he suggested. “I’m done getting wet for the day, and I’m so cold my fur’s gonna turn solid!”

“Race you there!” Inferno called, speeding ahead.

“Hey!” Echo broke into a run, following the blur of Inferno’s tail-tip. “You didn’t even start counting!”

Inferno was waiting for Echo under a nearby tree with his tail folded neatly over his paws.

“You’re so slow!” Inferno teased when Echo finally slowed his step to a halt, his eyes sparkling. “Even with longer legs!”

“Shut up!” Echo flicked his tail at him, nearly out of breath.

They padded side by side to a gap in the thicket where a line of sentries were posted.

“State your name and presence!” ordered one sentry.

“I’m Inferno, and this is Echo. We were told a missing kitten might be here.”

The sentry nodded. “Yes. A sentry from the northern Medics’ Camp took him here earlier, said he was trying to hunt for fish. He’s okay—pretty brave I’d say. Thank Fintaria he didn’t attempt going for a swim.” He turned towards the entrance and disappeared inside.

Echo exhaled a breath of relief. At least Thistle had the sense not to jump into a stream.

Then Thistle emerged from the sentry line. “Hi, Echo!” he chirped.

“I see you didn’t catch anything,” Echo pointed his tail in the direction of home. “Come on. We’re going back to my den.”

“My fur’s all wet!” Thistle stomped to Echo’s side. “And now I have to get wet again!”

Echo waited until they were out of earshot of the sentries to speak. “Maybe think about that the next time you feel like running out into the forest alone in the middle of a storm. Now, are you going to say sorry?”

“Sorry,” Thistle muttered.

"Do you have any idea what we had to do to find you? Or what trouble you could've gotten yourself into? Don't you realize how stupid that was?"

Thistle gave his chest a few embarrassed licks, at last looking ashamed of himself. “You won’t tell Mom, right?”

Echo could only imagine what she might do to him. “No, but that doesn’t make what you did okay. Both today and yesterday prove that you can’t be trusted on your own. Things are—well…” I guess he did hear the meeting yesterday. “The territory isn’t exactly the safest place right now.” Even if Tumbleweed was the murderer, I can’t take any chances. “There are sentries posted, but that doesn’t automatically guarantee safety. No more running off, especially not alone. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Echo couldn’t help but glance at Inferno. His friend’s gaze was fixed straight ahead, as though he hadn’t been listening in. Like his mind had been elsewhere. Despite the rain. his ear-tufts contained a steady, satisfied glow, and his tail wasn’t held low.

“Isn’t this great, Echo?” Inferno asked. “Coal’s murderer might have just been captured! We solved a murder! Coal’s murder! We did it!”

“Please don’t get your hopes up,” Echo whispered.

“Why not? She’s gonna be locked up, right?” He let out a purr. “She deserves it.”

“I mean we shouldn’t get our hopes up that she was the one who did it. No cerrien has any concrete proof right now.”

“Three cerriens turn up murdered, and then three cerriens happened to get attacked just a day later. What more proof do you need?”

“Look, now’s not the time for this.” Echo caught wide, green eyes of a curious Thistle straining his ears to listen. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

Inferno’s ear tufts flashed brighter as though he were ready to argue, but he turned his gaze once more on the path ahead, silent.