Cast Away

“Prickle, wait up!” Vernon panted, struggling to keep up to his sister, who was already so far into the woods Vernon could barely make out her tail in the undergrowth. He usually preferred staying back with his mother, daydreaming in the sun about what he’d do when he was grown up. Not that he’d settled on anything yet – fighting was too exciting and dangerous, but tending to animals all day might quickly bore him. But there were so many other options! Maybe he’d become an artist, prettying up their camp with vivid colors and creative scenarios, commemorating the group’s fights against strangers and predators. Now that he thought about it, he could really see himself there.

“Vernon!”

Prickle’s voice pierced his thoughts and he noticed that he had stopped running after her, meandering along the path instead. He’d have stumbled over a root a few steps later if she hadn’t snapped him out of it. He gave her a small smile in thanks and caught up to where she waited for him, her tail lashing impatiently.
“If I’d known you’d get lost in thoughts even during an expedition, I wouldn’t have taken you,” she meowed, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was her favorite sibling because he was the only one who didn’t snitch on her when she got these ideas into her head again. Going to see the lake without an adult, really? Their mother would have bitten their heads off for that.

So he just purred and rubbed her head against her chin, which she tolerated with a sigh.

“Let’s go, slowpoke, before someone notices we’re gone.”

No one should, at least not for a while yet – it was noon, and most cats were either working or napping. They had picked their route carefully around where they knew the farm was, and passed stealthily between the barn and the forge. When they were past the river where their father had taken Prickle to teach her fishing once, they were as far as either of them had ever been, and Vernon faltered a bit. His sister noticed he wasn’t keeping up after a few steps, turning around to him.

“Are you sure you know the way?” he meowed, slightly ashamed of how insecure his voice sounded. He didn’t meet his sister’s eyes – she’d been looking forward to this trip and he didn’t want to hold her back now, but he had to know.

She came back, touching her nose to his. “Well, I’ve never been there… But I heard a few of the fishers talking about the route! It’s really not that far anymore, I believe, and there should be a few pointers on the way. And if we get lost, we can always turn back, okay?”

Vernon hesitated, but with a deep breath, he nodded. He really couldn’t say no to Prickle.

“And hey, imagine how pretty the lake will be in the sun! You could paint that, if Wasp allows you to get into his paints again, imagine how impressed mother would be!”

Vernon tilted his head. That was true! She always delighted in his little projects and hung them up around the village.

“You convinced me. Lead the way!”



When they didn’t find the lake after a while, Vernon began to grow insecure again. Some time after that, there was some worry in Prickle’s eyes. When the sun began to set and the air grew cold, she admitted that she didn’t know where they were at all.

Fear shot through Vernon. “But you still know the way back?”

Prickle purred, but he could scent her nervousness. “Sure I do! Follow me, it’s this way. It’s probably for the best if we go back, right? They will miss us by now, and maybe we can ask the fishers if they can take us with them next time.”

Her head held high, Prickle lead the way and Vernon followed her, his paw pads beginning to hurt and eyelids drooping while they walked. He wanted to be home. Why had he ever said yes to this? At least the way back should be quicker.



When they passed the same overgrown tree the third time, he knew they were lost. Prickle’s every pore oozed stress and she twitched at every broken branch in the undergrowth, no longer acting confident or even pretending she knew the way.

“Prickle, can we rest? Maybe they’ll find us tomorrow if we stay where we are. Mother and father will look for us, and maybe the hunters too, if they come here.”

Without waiting for an answer, he let himself fall down onto a moderately soft looking patch of ferns, his eyes falling shut before he even hit the floor. He heard his sister whine, now very clearly anxious, before she settled down next to him, wrapping her body around his so he’d stay warm. He appreciated that.

“I’m sorry, Vernon, I just… I wanted to see the lake. It’s supposed to be so pretty, you know? I just wanted to show you. I’m so sorry. We’ll find the way home tomorrow, okay?”

Vernon purred to let her know it was alright, but stopped when something moved in the woods to their side. He heard a twig crack, and then the scent hit him. He had never smelled anything this foul, like a carcass that had been in the sun for too long. Another twig broke, now much closer, and he thought he could see eyes glowing in the darkness, and teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

“Prickle?”

His sister had frozen, too, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Or was he trembling? They both?

“Stay still,” she hissed. “Maybe it’ll pass us by.”

Vernon admired her optimism, but it was clear the predator had fixed on them. In what light was left, he could make out a bushy tail swinging malevolently, and big ears fixed on them. A fox, monster of the stories his mother had told him when he was younger, and then creature of his nightmares. Baring its teeth further, it crept closer to where he was still laying with his sister, both of them too scared to do anything but stare in silence as the fox came closer still, until Vernon could smell its breath and make out the ice cold intelligence in its eyes.

Just before he could tell his sister he forgave her and close his eyes in preparation for death, something cracked again, this time behind them. Something bigger, though, and the fox froze where it stood, saliva hanging from its fangs. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make himself smaller, not wanting to see what monster it would take to stop a fox from moving like that.

“Be not afraid, little ones,” a voice rumbled. He felt Prickle whip her head around and some hope filled his heart. He didn’t know the voice, but had a cat found them? Slowly, he untangled his limbs from his sister’s and turned around too. The sight awaiting him was so bizarre he was sure they’d actually fallen asleep, and this was nothing but a crazy dream. When they’d wake up, they could continue on their way home, and Prickle would laugh at him when he’d mention foxes and… well, whatever this was. She’d always said he was too imaginative, and it seemed like this time he’d outdone himself. Staring at him there was an eye bigger than himself, floating in the air. There was another one fixated on his sister, and a few he could see further out between some trees. They orbited around a huge animal, its head so far up in the sky Vernon couldn’t make it out. He thought he saw antlers.

Prickle seemed to have the same thoughts as him, asking “Who are you? Are we asleep?”

Her voice sounded so small compared to this beast, but it seemed it had heard them just fine.

“My name is Nestor, my small friends, and you are not asleep, I’m afraid. You are, however, lost.”

“What do you want from us?” Vernon squeaked, gathering his courage. He cringed at how his voice sounded, as if he was nothing but a bean squealing in fear. Prickle laid her tail on his back, and he leaned into her a bit, hoping this Nestor wouldn’t notice how scared he was.

“I’m here to offer you an opportunity. You may not see your family again, but you will see sights few cats have ever seen, explore where no one has been before, and make a new family of those that are lost like you are.”

“And what if we don’t want that? If we want to go back to our family?” Prickle demanded, the hair in the back of her neck rising.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. I don’t think he is as merciful as I am.” The eyes floating around them focused on a point behind them, and Vernon remembered the fox he’d already forgotten about, what with all this craziness going on. It was still there, fangs bared, malice in its eyes, frozen in the same spot it had been before.

“Let me be clear,” Nestor spoke up again. “He will not let you escape. If you want to live, you can join me. Or you can die. Decide.”

With that, the huge beast was gone, as were all the eyes but one, which stretched out into a doorway. It swirled blue, and nothing told them about what was on the other side.

Vernon sagged into his sister, overwhelmed by what they had heard, and purred in relief as she licked his head calmingly.

“What was that?” he asked her, despite knowing she wouldn’t have an answer either. Eyes still closed, he felt her shrug.

They stayed like that for a bit, neither of them wanting to move, too exhausted by what had happened and fear still locking their bodies.

Until they heard a growl behind them. Jumping to his feet, Vernon saw the fox had begun moving again. Slowly it shook itself out of its stupor, licking its teeth and regaining its focus on them.

“You heard Nestor,” Prickle meowed, also getting to her feet with haste. “We stay here, we die. We leave, we live.”

Determined, she took a few steps towards the portal as behind them the fox regained mobility with every moment. Vernon wanted to wait a bit, to talk about whether they could trust the portal, about whether they couldn’t stay and fight the fox after all, but he knew in his heart there was no choice. There was no way the two of them could escape a full-grown fox bent on eating them, and Prickle knew, too.

She waited for him at the edge of the portal, smiling in a way he could tell was forced, and he joined her there. As the fox took its first stumbling steps after them, Vernon looked at his sister.

“Whatever happens, wherever we end up, whether we live or die – I forgive you.”

Without waiting for her reaction, he stepped through, and his world went blue.