A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

[Nyika]

With the owl's declaration everybeast scattered, going their own separate ways to gather together by the fire. Captain Noonahootin settled himself at the entrance of the cave to take the first watch, preening his feathers of blood while the rest tended to their own injuries. Gashrock milled about, first targeting the young Poko, tutting over her gashes and bruises before wielding a sewing needle and green thread. Poko whimpered at her impending fate.

Nyika sat cross-legged by the fire, watching the others as she clutched her broken arm close to her body. The pain was unbearable and despite her exhaustion she wasn't sure she would be able to get any rest. Still, she tried, laying sprawled on her back, her head resting on the stone floor of the cave warmed by the fire. She opened her eyes at Zevka's nudging.

"Let me take a look at that arm."

The wildcat grumbled, hissing through her teeth as she sought to rise. After laying down, it was more effort than she cared to admit. With Zevka's aid she managed, groaning as the pine marten took her arm into her possession and felt along the bone.

After a moment she growled. "I don't get it. The bone doesn't seem to be broken. You really can't move it?"

"No," Nyika said, moaning as Zevka's digits pressed into her flesh. "Zevka, leave it be, please. It hurts."

"No," the pine marten said, her response curt and annoyed. Her prodding was nearing the cat's shoulder. Nyika bit her lip; she felt like howling.

Zevka huffed a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, but we can't just leave this injury alone. It could end up killing you."

"Are you really a healer like Poko said?" Nyika had to ask.

"I'm not," Zevka admitted. "But I've read books on the matter. That should suffice, right?"

Nyika's wide, incredulous eyes stared at the pine marten. "You don't even know! I'm not going to die. Or if I do, that's fine, too. Just leave it alone!" She let loose a short gasp of pain.

"What's this?" Cookie said, startling Nyika into a fluffed tail. He towered over them, the gash in his side wet and gleaming red accented with green. Nyika's ears flattened against her head, the cat cowering in her seat. She did not like the champagne ferret; something about him set her fur on edge.

"Nyika has a broken arm, but I can't feel where the bone split," Zevka explained.

"I've mended a few broken bones. Let me see." He sat without an invitation.

"Are you sure it's not the other way around?" Nyika muttered, failing to hide the darkness in her tone or the scowl she had adorned.

Cookie grinned. "No." Taking Nyika's arm in his paws he began pressing for information. His touch was more delicate than Zevka's, using his claws in lieu of his bulky and calloused digits.

Nyika's fur stood up all over her body, a discomforting feeling growing inside as he continued to touch her. She shot Zevka a pleading look. She did not like him and she did not want to be near him. Why couldn't they both just leave her alone? Her breath caught as he rounded near her shoulder.

"Ah, it's been dislocated." Moving his paws into position, he said, "This is goin' to hurt."

"What's going to hurt? What are you going to do?" Nyika said, fear taking hold of her voice.

"I'm goin' to pop it back in. Ready?"

"No! I'm not ready! Don't do it!"

"All right," Cookie said, then twisted Nyika's arm at an awkward angle.

The wildcat screamed, hot furious pain spreading like a wildfire from her shoulder down her arm and across her back. It felt like he had just torn her arm out of her socket. She pulled away from him, baring her fangs as she shot him a vicious hiss.

"Can you move it?" Cookie said, not bothering to hide the amusement.

"No," Nyika whimpered, even as both Cookie and Zevka spied the way her elbow bent inwards, her paw curling into a fist as her claws left their sheaths to knead the air. She pressed her arm against her body, curling around it and moaning.

"Oy, Gashy! Bring a sling over here," Cookie called.

The rat was slow in responding, muttering that she had more important things to tend to than a wildcat with a fake broken arm. Taking the blanket set for Nyika, she cut a piece of fabric with her dagger and tied a makeshift sling for the cat.

"That'll do her," Cookie said once the job was done.

Nyika pressed her head against the floor, drool pooling from her mouth in a pathetic whimper. Cookie's paws padded away in a ramble.

"Hey Cookie," Zevka said. "Thanks. That needed to happen."

Nyika cursed the world for pitting everybeast against her.

"Give it a few days of rest. Once the swelling goes down, you'll be able to use your arm properly again," Zevka said, rubbing a paw over the wildcat's back. Nyika whimpered in response.

Everybeast else had settled for the night, using the meager supplies they had scavenged throughout the trek. There were few blankets, but with the small bonfire Gashrock and Istvan had built using broken wagon pieces and other kindling, they were mostly used as pillows to rest weary heads. Zevka curled up next to Nyika with Poko settling on the pine marten's other side. Nessa laid next to Poko, exhibiting a quiet disapproving whine from the wildcat. Nyika did not want to leave herself open to the elements or anything else that might assail them in the small cavern.

Zevka's tail swished, brushing over the wildcat's body. In instinct Nyika grabbed it, keeping the twitching appendage close to her as a babe would his most cherished security blanket. Her tongue came out unbidden, grooming between bouts where she would rub her face against the soft fur. For the first time in a long while, a quiet purr elicited from the weary wildcat. Just like a fox's tail. Just like her surrogate mother's. The tail ceased twitching, and Nyika closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was alone. The fire had died to mere embers, yet it still radiated heat like a furnace. Nyika sat up, curious. Where had everybeast gone? Sitting up, she looked about. There was no sign of anything. No creatures, no supplies, only the dying fire and herself.

"Zevka?" she called, hearing her voice echo around her, muffled in her own ears, entrapped in a solitary glass bubble. The wildcat rose, not realizing the fact that her dislocated arm moved without pain or struggle, her left paw bearing her weight against the floor. The sling Gashrock had made her was lost and forgotten. With tentative steps she approached the mouth of the cavern, curious eyes looking out into the dark night. Stars glimmered before her in the sky, the moon bright but menacing as it cast down its ghastly smile from above. The wildcat shuddered, venturing outside. There was no wind, no snowfall, only the whiteness that dusted the broken ledge before the lip of the cave. There were no pawprints, no answer, and curiously, no chill.

"Poko?" she tried, but there was no response. Only silence.

"Nessa?"

Had they abandoned her? There didn't seem to be any sign of them outside. Feeling alone, Nyika turned back towards the fire, the glowing embers casting a more radiant light than was natural but the cat didn't think of the oddity. They were still warm and she sat close by, wrapping her arms about her legs to mope. Why would they leave her like that? She huffed, whiskers drooping, ears pinned back against her head. Such as well. Nobeast ever wanted to keep her around once they found out her inconvenient gift. Zevka hadn't believed it, but now the pine marten was becoming unsure. No wonder she packed her bags and left. No wonder they left her to die alone on this miserable rock. Superstitious or not, nobeast wanted ghosts trailing in their wake and who was there to attract them but Nyika herself?

Heaving a sigh, she gave one last good look around the cavern, her eyes settling on the dark expanse beyond the glowing embers at the back of the cave, for the first time realizing just how vast and encroaching the inky blackness truly was. She rose from her seat. There had been no paw prints outside, so if the group had gone anywhere it would have been deeper into the tunnel. She took a step forward.

It was at the edge of darkness where light refused to shine that she realized just how terrible her decision had been. When it had been so silent before, now, she could hear it. Despite the icy paw of fear that crept up her spine, Nyika's ears swiveled forward, trying to discern the noise.

It was voices, hundreds of voices, all talking over each other in a soft, indiscernable murmur. Nyika hesitated, listening, aware that the voices were growing, but obvlivious to the darkness encroaching upon her being. Suddenly a dark shadow had been cast over the wildcat, chilling her body to her core. The voices increased tenfold, assailing her ears in shouts and screams. Shivering, Nyika took a fearful step back, plunging herself into the light and warmth and forcing the voices into a quiet murmur, but the darkness continued to advance. Even within the light the voices were growing, crying out and wailing with every backwards step she took. An overwhelming sense of terror surrounded her, rooting her legs to the floor, making her fur stand on end, her tail fluffing, each hair threatening to leap from her body. She was covered in darkness, the chill cutting deep into her clothing, into her fur, into her flesh, all the way down to her bones. The voices were screaming now, demanding to know what it was they had done, why they had deserved their fate, and lamenting about their unjust punishment. They wanted retribution.

Nyika opened her mouth to scream but terror seized her throat, stealing her voice. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, but still she could not scream. There was nothing she could do. Frantically she tried to force some noise out, working around the solid rock of ice lodged in her throat. They were coming for her; she could sense it. A horrific presence of death and decay approaching at breakneck speed. They were going to drag her back with them, back into the deepest crevices where no light would ever shine again. She was going to die in here.

Somehow her voice broke free, a whimper that grew to a dull moan. It was all she could manage. Rooted to the spot, she forced herself louder, the moan raising in volume, her legs still held fast against the floor. They were coming for her. She moaned again, trying with all her might to free herself from her intangible bounds.

A paw pressed against her back.

Nyika screamed.

"Nyika!" Zevka hissed, shaking the wildcat awake. "Shh! It's all right! It's all right!"

She was still screaming when she opened her eyes, still screaming when she realized Zevka was hovering over her. After having found her voice, it seemed as though she had forgotten how to lose it.

"Shh! Shh!" Zevka hushed, grabbing the cat's muzzle and forcing it closed. "It was just a dream! You were having a bad dream!"

Nyika quieted, her breath coming in quick, short pants. Her eyes were wide with terror and her body was shaking in a vicious tremor.

"You're safe," Zevka said, relaxing once she saw the cat had truly woken.

"Where am I?" Nyika demanded.

"You're with friends," Zevka said. "In ? a less than friendly situation."

The cat nodded, the previous night's events coming back to her. Pulling herself up, she looked around. Everybeast was accounted for as they shuffled about in their places, no doubt disturbed by her screaming. The owl stood at the mouth of the cave, eyes wide, head held acute in curiosity. No stars and no moon could be seen beyond. Large, hot flames still danced in the fire, not the dying embers she had remembered, and off to the side the same darkness that had seized her in a frantic embrace of terror. A chill grew up her spine looking into the shadows, her fur standing on end. She felt like screaming all over again.

"Shh," Zevka cooed, smoothing Nyika's fluffed tail. "It was just a nightmare. Nothing more."

Her breath was getting shorter, shuddering with every inhale. Turning away from the darkness the cat wrapped an arm about the pine marten in a trembling hug, burying her face against the crook of her neck.

Zevka allowed it, stroking the back of the cat's head as she let Nyika sob quietly into her fur.

"It was just a dream," the pine marten said.

It was a while before Nyika had calmed down enough for Zevka to detach the cat from her body, pushing her with a gentle touch to the floor.

"Go back to sleep," she said, running her paw over Nyika's fur in a soft pet. "We have a long day tomorrow."

Nyika nodded but her heart was too awake, too frantic. She couldn't go back to sleep now. Still, she tried, and after what seemed an eternity the wildcat rose to sit before the fire, watching the flames dance as she clutched her legs to her body, her tail twitching in agitation. A soft click could be heard approaching nearby, a mass of feathers rustling as Nyika felt the owl's presence settle next to her.

"What troubles you, Miss Nyika?" the owl asked, his voice quiet, conscious of the others' slumber.

Nyika sighed but did not answer. Instead, she continued to watch the flames dance before her eyes, finding the fire's heat and hypnotic crackle soothing. Then she spoke.

"I witnessed the birth of a haunting tonight."

A silent moment passed before Zevka stirred, the pine marten pulling herself to sit at Nyika's other side.

"A terrible thing has happened," Noonahootin said, his plumage fluffing. He seemed to grow twice his size. "You believe the beasts that died will haunt this pass?"

Nyika remained silent, unsure what to say. Tell him yes, the ghosts that lingered would forever haunt the passage betwixt Yew and Carrigul for all eternity? He'd think her crazy. She was already on poor terms with Poko. Nessa didn't quite know what to think of her, and Zevka was merely humouring her for the time being. What would happen when the others learned of her curse? Cookie would laugh, Gashrock would sniff and scoff, Greenfleck would dismiss it, and Istvan ? Istvan would give her the kind of attention that would unravel her. Nyika was alone, just like in her dream. Once they all found out, they would leave her behind.

The fire continued to crackle before them. Noonahootin did not press for which Nyika was thankful, while Zevka nodded off beside her. The cat turned to the bird, watching him. His broken talon was held in a makeshift splint and his feathers, while cleaned of blood, were stained red with crimson. A few were out of place on his wing. Nyika's ears swiveled forward, her whiskers raising as her paw came out to stroke those askew.

Noonahootin's head twisted, his large eyes peering down at the wildcat in offense.

"Excuse me?" he hooted.

"Sorry," Nyika murmured, shrinking in her seat, but despite herself she continued to bat at his wing.

Noonahootin huffed and turned to walk away.

Some natural instinct sparked in the young wildcat at seeing his tail feathers drag behind him. Before she could stop herself she pounced, her tail swishing as she leapt at Noonahootin's backside.

When the owl reared up against her she cowered, one of his tail feathers caught in her teeth. He was going to kill her, she knew it. What had possessed her of such a stupid act?

Instead, a look of dawning came across the owl's features. Pulling a loose feather from his breast, he blew it towards the opening of the cave.

Drawing herself back, Nyika's butt wiggled and then she was off, chasing the feather awkwardly with three proper legs to run with. She tumbled on the stone floor, the feather drifting and dancing with her as she gave chase.

Noonahootin watched, amused by her antics.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Nyika?" he said.

"Yes." The response was automatic and unreserved.

"What makes you say that?"

"I can see them," she said after a tumble, holding the feather against her body as her legs came up to kick. "I talk to them sometimes."

"Do they talk back?" Noonahootin's voice was skeptical but Nyika was too distracted to notice.

"Oh, aye. Some of them are really fun to talk to." She stopped her playing to lick her new toy.

"And those that are not?"

"They're scary. They don't like that they're dead, and they're vindictive against the living."

"So that's why we face a haunting."

Nyika nodded absentmindedly. The feather lay a few paces away. With a swish of her tail and wiggle of her rear, she pounced.

"Did your parents die in the landslide?"

"No," she said, unperturbed by the question. "I never had a mother or father."

The owl blinked. "Surely you must have."

"Well, yes, but they weren't cats. I don't remember my real parents; they died when I was very young. I was raised by a tribe of foxes."

"Ahh," Noonahootin said, a note of comprehension in his voice. "Were any of them seers?"

"Oh, aye. Vera was the best. She taught me everything I know."

"And did Vera share this ability of yours?"

"No, but she was still very good."

"What did she think of it?"

Nyika paused in her play, abandoning the feather to gnaw at her paw and clean her face. "She said I had a wonderful gift and that I was special."

"Do you agree?"

"Sometimes, no."

Noonahootin smiled as he walked to Nyika's side. Her paw came out, claws splayed as she swiped at his feathers. He bopped her on the head.

"Stop that," he said.

Nyika cowered, pulling her ears back with a whine.

He sighed. "Oh, all right. If you must. My good wing, please. I won't have you ruining my injured one more than it already is."

The cat grinned as she batted at him.

"I wonder," Noonahootin mused amidst her play, "if you have this power due to the manner of your birth."

Nyika hesitated to look at the old owl, her head tilted in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Well, furred beasts are grown inside the body. Perhaps that grants you a more spiritual awareness. Closer to life, closer to death." He paused. "Did your mother die in childbirth?"

The cat's whiskers fell as she thought about the possibility. "I don't know."

She was silent for a time before she turned to meet his gaze. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Do you think my mother died in childbirth?"

The owl's face was solemn as he draped a wing across her shoulders. "Come, child. I'll not have you stumbling in exhaustion tomorrow due to my lack of vigilance. I should wake another beast for second watch, else I share the same fate."

"I'll do it." As if on cue, Cookie's deep voice rumbled near the fire. Nyika's tail fluffed at the surprise.

"And risk you being exhausted, too? How long have you been awake, ferret?"

"Since the cat's screamin'," the champagne ferret said. He rose to saunter by the cave opening. "I'm not a kit. I can stay awake past my bedtime, Captain." He cleared his throat. "Ain't a bother, really. I'll wake Swirl-face if I get tired."

"Hmm, very well. Come, Miss Nyika, and let's move your friend to a more comfortable position."

Nyika looked towards the fire, spying Zevka with her head held low and shoulders slumped in a deep sleep. The pine marten would wake with a wicked neck ache if she slept the night through like that. Following Noonahootin's advice, she stirred Zevka from her slumber, persuading her to lay back next to Poko while Nyika lay against her other side. The owl perched himself next to the wildcat, draping a wing over her in a protective blanket of feathers.

Sandwiched between the two creatures, her mind for once at ease, it was not long before Nyika was back asleep.