Chapter 4 | Destiny's Calling | 5 Taken, 1 Fallen.

The sky had barely shifted from violet to pale rose when they gathered at the edge of the clearing where Pete’s absence still echoed in empty pawprints. Sassy, her tawny Calico tabby fur ruffled by a cool breeze, sat tall beside the low mound marking his final rest. In her green eyes burned both sorrow and fierce determination. With a steady voice she called the clan to heed Tabitha’s dream and honor Pete’s memory by answering their own call of fate.

Kitkate stepped forward next, her glossy black-and-white tuxedo coat shimmering in the new light. She pressed a white paw to her heart as she vowed never to let fear unravel their unity. Cat Blanc padded beside her, his cream Siamese form glowing softly. His blue eyes, clear as sky on a cloudless day, reflected a promise to guide them by both wisdom and fierce loyalty.

Long’s sleek black form melted in and out of the dawn shadows, her green eyes aglow with silent fury and purpose. In her mind replayed Tabitha’s vision of a river that bent toward a distant valley—a path only they could chart. When she spoke, her voice was a low purr that thrummed through their ranks: destiny would be their compass, courage their banner.

April hovered close to her kittens, her warm tabby stripes a mirror of her mother’s legacy yet distinctly her own. She nuzzled Myla’s gray-tabby head and Shasta’s grey-and-brown-white paws, reminding herself that Mylo’s spirit ran beside them even if he no longer ran beside her. Her amber gaze hardened at the thought of Alaina’s father’s looming cruelty. She swore that no trap, no lantern, no whimper of loss would ever catch them again.

Om’s orange tabby tuxedo glowed like embers in the dawn as he stretched and yawned, revealing sharp white teeth. His amber eyes flashed at Sassy, then drifted to Sarah, whose black-and-white coat and green eyes mirrored Kitkate’s. Shoulder to shoulder, these two stood poised like sentinels—identical in color but each with her own spark of spirit.

The kittens tumbled into the circle, their energy both a comfort and a reminder of what they protected. Tabkit’s tabby stripes flickered as she darted between her gray siblings—Stormkit, whose tuxedo fur was shot through with charcoal; Lintkit, whose soft gray coat invited gentle strokes; Fadekit, whose fur faded from inky black to silvery gray like a disappearing shadow; and Angelkit, pale as moonlight in her downy gray fur. April’s brood drifted in behind them: Myla padded close to her mother, Shasta stuck by her mittens-patterned paws, and Booger—called Thunder when storms rumbled—prowled the perimeter in solid midnight black.

Sassy lifted her head and inhaled the scent of lavender fields beyond the wood’s fringe—Tabitha’s lavender still standing guard over their dreams. “We journey at first light,” she declared. “We follow the river Dragon saw in her vision, the path Cat Blanc sensed in the starlight, the courage April felt in her bones, and the unity Kitkate and Sarah know in their hearts.”

A chorus of purrs, mews, and resolute chirps answered her. Though Pete’s passing had weighed heavily upon them, it had also fused their resolve. As the sun finally broke free from the horizon, they turned eastward together, paws sinking into dew-wet grass, spirits lifted by destiny’s call. Beyond the farmland and looming lanterns. 

Dawn was just a pale promise on the horizon when Sassy trotted into the clearing. Her tawny tabby coat gleamed faintly, and she paused beside the low mound marking Pete’s final rest. Stary, her calico daughter, and Forest, her light-ginger son and Pete’s twin, sat at her side, ears pricked with nervous energy.

“Are we really doing this?” Stary’s voice cracked. “Leaving everything behind?”

Forest’s green eyes found Sassy’s. He swallowed. “I miss Pete. I don’t know what happens now.”

Sassy nudged them both with her muzzle. “Pete wouldn’t want us stuck in sorrow. He’d want us alive, free, together.”

Kitkate and Sarah padded up next, their tuxedo fur shining black and white in the growing light. Kitkate brushed a gentle paw across Stary’s shoulder. “We follow Tabitha’s dream—and Pete’s courage.” Sarah nodded, whiskers trembling. “We stick close. No one gets left behind.”

Cat Blanc, in his cream Siamese coat, stepped forward next. His blue eyes were calm but firm. “We move east, toward the river I saw in my vision. There’s a safe valley beyond.” He paused, glancing at April. “We’ll avoid the farmer’s dogs and the traps.”

Long slinked out of the shadows—her black fur nearly invisible, her green eyes bright. “The old fence at the field’s edge can’t slow us. I checked last night. There’s a gap under the leaning post.” She flicked her tail. “We’ll slip through there at first light.”

April padded up, her tabby stripes warm and reassuring. Myla, Shasta, and Booger pressed around her paws, purring softly. April’s voice was quiet but resolute. “Sarah’s not far from giving birth. We go slow on the trail. If she needs a break, we’ll stop.” Om’s orange-tabby mittens brushed April’s flank. “I’ll carry food. Anything you need, I’ve got you.”

From the underbrush, Tabkit and her five siblings tumbled into the circle—Tabkit’s tabby stripes, Stormkit’s tuxedo gray, Lintkit’s soft silver, Fadekit’s smoky fade, and Angelkit’s pale gray coat catching the dawn. They skidded to a halt at Sassy’s feet. Stormkit chirped, “Will we see Pete again?”

Sassy dipped her head. “In our dreams. And in the wind.” She looked at every face in the clearing. “This is our moment. Destiny calls.”

A hush fell. Then, one by one, they lifted their heads and let out soft, determined mews.

Together—mothers, warriors, queens, and kittens—they stepped into the morning light, hearts bound by loss. 

As the company pressed through the gap under the old wooden fence. The air smelled of damp earth and wild thyme—this was the western edge of the Whispering Hills, just beyond Moonmirror Creek, where Stary and Forest had spent their kitten days learning to climb the moss-covered stones.

Stary padded beside her mother, ears twitching at every rustle. “Do you really know where we’re heading?” she asked, her calico patches flickering in the half-light.

Sassy dipped her head toward the rising sun. “We’re bound for the Greenvale Valley, on the eastern slope of these hills. That’s where Cat Blanc’s vision led us—lush fields, warm springs, and no men with traps.”

Forest, his pale ginger fur glowing gold, glanced around nervously. “But what if we run into other clans? Or worse—hunters?”

April nudged Forest gently. “We stick to the tree line and keep our voices low. The valley is wide enough for whoever wants peace to stay out of each other’s way.”

A soft mew from Tabkit drew their focus to the front: Kitkate was crouched beside a small stream, her whiskers dipping into the cold water. The little ones clustered around her, lapping thirstily.

“I’m glad you paused,” said Sarah, settling down to catch her breath. “Forest, you and Stary keep watch downstream. The noise of this creek might wash out our scent.”

Forest squared his shoulders. “On it.” He and Stary darted ahead, noses to the ground, guiding the group around a broken dam where the water pooled dark and still.

Halfway through the morning, a lone raven swooped low overhead, croaking its warning. Booger hissed. “Trouble’s near.”

From the ridge above, Long’s black silhouette slipped into view. “Field dogs,” she breathed. “They’re patrolling the old farmlands below. We’ll need to circle west, through the birch grove.”

Sassy counted every face in the line. “Then west we go. And remember—we watch each other’s backs. We owe that to Pete.”

The company crested the final rise just after noon, sunlight pouring into the wide bowl of Greenvale Valley. At the center lay a shimmer of a spring-fed pond, ringed by tall grasses and sheltered thickets. Sassy’s amber eyes glistened. This would be their new home. 

Sassy and April led the way to two adjacent hollows in the riverbank, where curled roots formed natural alcoves. April settled into one moss-lined recess and began smoothing the bedding of dried reeds. Sassy claimed the neighboring den, draping fresh fern fronds over the entrance for privacy.

Cat Blanc and Om found a hollow log beneath an old oak. They dragged small twigs inside, arranging them into a soft nest. Nearby, Forest and Stary discovered a hollow stump just big enough for two; they hopped in together, pressing their bodies close against the cool wood.

Kitkate herded her five into a circle by the pond’s edge. Stormkit and Angelkit chased dragonflies, Lintkit practiced pouncing on floating lily pads, and Fadekit dozed in the sunbeam like a furry cigar.

Tabkit, ever curious, flopped onto her belly in the shallow water. She lifted her head and began licking droplets from her paws, then turned to the reeds, flicking her tongue over every blade until each was soggy. The other kittens giggled at her sticky whiskers.

Every stick, stone, and patch of mud became Tabkit’s taste test. She climbed onto Forest’s back, licking the fur between his shoulder blades until he twitched and hopped away. Next, she gave Cat Blanc’s tail a thorough examination, leaving behind a trail of wet fur.

When storm clouds gathered in the afternoon sky, Tabkit found the smooth surface of April’s fern-frond roof irresistible. She padded up the incline and began licking each overlapping layer until water dripped onto the kittens below, who squealed and raced for cover.

Night had fallen, and moonlight danced across the spring-fed pond. Under the broad oak’s silvered leaves, Sassy called her clan together. Every tail flicked in anticipation as mothers, warriors, and kittens formed a loose circle on the damp grass.

Sassy stepped forward. “We’ve made our dens, claimed our boundaries, and filled our bellies. Tonight, we plan for the days ahead. Let’s begin.”

She lowered her head toward Kitkate. “Kitkate and Sarah, you’ll lead two hunting patrols at dawn and dusk. Scout for mice and voles near the birch grove.”

Kitkate’s whiskers twitched. “We’ll be ready.”

Sarah nodded. “No vole will escape us.”

Forest, his ginger fur almost glowing in the moonlight, glanced at his mother. “Sassy, I can help with boundary marking. I know every hidden dip and rise around here.”

“Excellent,” Sassy replied. “You and Long will patrol the perimeter every other sunrise. Mark trees with fresh scratches.”

Long slipped forward, her black pelt blending into the shadows. “I’ll map the fence gap and watch for intruders.”

IN THE NUSEREY

April curled protectively around the half-grown kits. “I’ll oversee the nursery,” she announced. “Tabkit and the others mustn’t stray too far. Those mushrooms by the alder log might make them sick.”

Tabkit’s ears perked up at the mention of mushrooms. With a grin, she leaned in and licked the dew off April’s fern roof, sending April’s whiskers twitching. The kittens erupted in giggles, and April gently scolded, “Tabkit—save the taste tests for safe prey.”

Training and Mentoring

Cat Blanc rose, his Siamese silhouette elegant against the water’s reflection. “Om and I will mentor the young warriors. We’ll teach them how to stalk silently and listen for danger.”

Om padded forward, juggling a twig in his mouth. He dropped it at Tabkit’s paws. “Let’s start tomorrow with a stealth exercise by the reeds. Tabkit, try not to lick your way through it.”

Tabkit giggled, cradling the twig like a trophy.

Sassy gazed around the circle, proud of every face shining in moonlight. “This valley is ours. We protect it together. Tonight, rest well. Tomorrow, we rise as a true clan.” She smiled. "It's Destiny's Calling."

A hush settled, broken only by Tabkit’s soft purr as she curled against her mother’s side. Then, one by one, each cat turned toward their den, hearts light with purpose—and a little amused by Tabkit’s ever-thirsty tongue.