As Pipit followed the winding path leaving the heart of the woods, occasionally pausing to examine an odd looking leaf, they shot a glance back at Oriel, laughing slightly to themself when they noticed the ranger standing nearly still, fixing Pipit with a slightly admonishing gaze. Oriel was always so serious. "We've walked this road hundreds of times, Oriel. You don't need to be on alert all the time." Oriel relaxes slightly, falling into step beside them as Pipit picks up the pace, and they spend the hike back to the village talking cheerfully. When they enter Phoentog, Pipit heads straight for the field, looking around for Norman. One of the village's bug catchers, Pipit can usually find their partner scouring the field's tall grasses for crickets and fireflies. It takes a few minutes, but Pipit finally spots one of Norman's fireflies, Juice, hovering above a clump of tall grass, and a few moments later, Norman emerges, waving his tail in greeting as he bounds forward to meet Pipit. "Did it go well?"

"Pretty well, but I'm still not quite sure... We did get plenty of brambleberries for the stores though." Norman purred, placing his tail gently over Pipit's shoulders. "That's alright. I'm positive Oriel will be able to rise to the challenge. They've never failed before." Switching topics, Norman headed off towards the village proper, Pipit trailing behind. "Well, with the extra brambleberries we can be sure Arwen will be making pies." They entered the village, flicking the scraps of swamp grass from their paws. The sky was a soft blue-purple as they returned to their house near the village center, pie in hand. The house was small and cozy, with the room below serving as a meeting place of sorts, as Norman was currently the acting mayor. Sometimes it took a while to find their rooms, if the land around the village shifts enough, but they were lucky this time.

Pipit settles down at a desk, grabbing some paper for a letter as Norman begins to cut the pie. Breeze, their daughter, lived out of town, and loved to send letters back to Phoentog. When the pie was ready Pipit curls into a chair, enjoying the warm treat. Bredin arrives soon after, setting his mail bag neatly down by the door. "Bear took Alissa and Aurelia out for their lessons, and I finished my rounds for the day, so I have some free time." Bredin scowls slightly, his eyes on the window. "Crevasse couldn't make it, again, says he's too busy trying to restock his stand." Pipit sighs, but isn't that surprised. Crevasse had always been the most laid back of their children, and now that he had a stall to run, was often getting into trouble. Keeping stock could be hard however, as shipments were often delayed or lost entirely to the ever shifting swamp.

It was early the next morning when Pipit rose, heading out to the usual spot to wait for Oriel to arrive. As a good way to pass the time, they practiced some acrobatics, leaping from one branch to another, making sure they had their tree combat mastered. They didn't use trees in a fight much, but it never hurt to brush up on their skills. Pipit hopped down from the branches as soon as they noticed Oriel approaching. "You ready to go? We're looking for some pretty basic stuff today, just the usual sticks and leaves." Oriel nodded, and they raced off into the woods. Today, Pipit was having a bit of trouble keeping up, and they broke off under the guise of checking for a rainberry bush, panting slightly. As they return, they notice Oriel darting off into the bushes, crossbow raised. Pipit followed close behind, gripping their scythe firmly. As they pushed through the foliage, Pipit noticed Oriel’s fur prickle sharply. “Rubble sprites, at least three over by that tree.” Oriel looked back at Pipit, confidence clearly shown in their gaze. Three Rubble sprites were a difficult group of enemies to tackle, the rock hard skin and magical abilities making it hard to land blows.

But Oriel was one of the best, having been trained by Pipit themselves, and Pipit knew that they would be able to succeed. As Oriel quickly scaled a tree, Pipit kept low to the ground, hiding in the shelter of a large clump of dry grass. One, two, three! Pipit lunged forward, swinging her blade as she connected with the closest rubble sprite. Crossbow bolts rained down from the trees as Oriel provided covering fire, evidently aimed at the rubble sprite closest to Pipt. As Pipit turned to swing again, a bolt from the third rock sprite caught her squarely on the flank, unbalancing them and sending them crashing to the ground. They quickly lash out, sending the first rock sprite clattering down as it falls apart, the magical connection severed. But it wasn’t enough. Pipit was surrounded, and it looked bad. The other two rock sprites were whipped into a rage, ready to tear her apart.

Pipit looked frantically around, noticing their scythe just out of reach. It was time, then. With a twitch of the ears, they signaled Oriel. The first rock sprite fell before it could even reach Pipit, but the second was able to get close enough to put a deep gash into Pipit’s side. Oriel was able to take out the last rock sprite quickly enough that Pipit could grab their scythe and get to their paws before Oriel reached them, proffering a first aid kit. The injury was nowhere near life threatening, but it was embarrassing. They would've never gotten hurt like this before. It was rough, sometimes, having taken on the role of adventurer so early on, when the village was still new. Sometimes they wished they had tried out a different job, like gardening or hunting. It was too late now. Time to head home.

Pipit was thinking hard. It was one of the few things they could do, as a worried Norman had confined them to the house. Oriel and some of the other villagers had dropped by to check in, but this time Pipit was calling them in for a reason. It was finally time for Pipit to pass the torch, and appoint Oriel as the new captain of the adventuring team. It was a long time coming, and Pipit, quite frankly, was ready to retire. So they had summoned most of the village to the town center, where the announcement would be made. Pipit stepped up onto the makeshift platform they usually spoke from, and gestured for silence.
“Not-cats of Phoentog, I have an announcement to make. Oriel, please step forward.” Oriel was in full gear, pelt slightly stained by swamp grass. There had been a slight uptick in gathering trips out of the village, so an adventure must accompany them to guide.

“I have decided to retire from my role as lead adventurer, and appoint Oriel as my replacement. They have proved their readiness for the role time and time again, and I wholeheartedly believe that Oriel will be an excellent leader of the adventuring team.” Oriel looked somewhat stunned, but stepped up onto the platform nonetheless. “I am honored that Pipit would think of appointing me to this position, and I promise that I will lead our adventuring team to great things.” The applause began, and everyone left the platform. It was a few hours later when Oriel found Pipit looking over the village, a strange look in their eyes. “Pipit?” Pipit turned to face the other not-cat, seemingly startled out of a daydream. “Yes?” “I was just wondering what you were planning to do, now that you’ve retired.” Pipit looked out over the village once more, her gaze settling on the distant figure of Norman walking through the fields. “I haven’t really thought about it yet. I think for now, I’ll just enjoy being here in Phoentog, maybe do some gardening. It’s a nice thing, being able to choose.

She pads across the dew-soaked grass, the moon shining down from above. The night was slightly chilly, and she shivered as a strong gust of wind blew by. Wet paws don't help either. Flicking the dew from her fur, Sorken leaps onto a sheltered stone, pleased to find it's still dry. Most summer nights in Carnage are pleasant, the air warm and crickets chirping, but a recent cold snap has brought rain, and drove most cats inside. But not Murky. Sorken sighs softly, remembering how angry Murky had been when they stormed from the hollow tree they had been sheltering in. Now Murky was wandering around outside the village.

She jumped down from the rock, hurrying to a quick trot as she left the village boundaries, saying a quick goodbye to Roe, who had been out trying to catch fireflies. She worried about Murky, who like many others in her village had come from earth. Murky's former owners had treated them terribly, often forgetting to give them food or water, eventually leaving them tied to a post in a parking lot. Murky managed to escape, and Sorken was very glad that Murky was safe now with her. Safe... She hurried on, picking up the pace until she was racing across the grass. It wasn't dangerous, but it was easy to get lost away from the village. It's always best to return by dawn.

She finally found Murky's trail near the edge of a meadow, and had only to follow the trail of tattered, ripped apart flowers and churned up mud. She found Murky near the meadows center, digging their claws into the ground, growling at the sky. The growling quickly turned to quiet sobbing, and Sorken carefully moved forward, gently wrapping her tail around Murky. "W-what did I do wrong?" The little cat was crying hard now, and Sorken was trying her best to comfort them. "Why did they leave me? I was good... I played with them, sat in their laps, I thought they loved me!" Murky went quiet, their paws clenching and unclenching. Their voice, which had reached almost a howl, was now quiet and hoarse. "I was good. Wasn't I? I thought was good. But they left me."

Sorken began to gently sooth the young cat, grooming them between the ears, trying to think of the right words. "It wasn't your fault. Not all humans, and Not-cats are kind or good. And you need to learn that. I was abandoned too, by humans I thought were my best friends. I was able to move on, and found this village, where I can help other Not-cats. You can do that too. It might be hard, but you can do it. I trust you." Murky was clearly tired, and was slowly drifting off to sleep. "I thought I was the only one..." And with that, the little cat had drifted off. Sorken picked Murky up by the scruff, returning through the meadow, heading right, past the fallen log they had sheltered in the other night. The village was quiet, rain once more beginning to fall.

Sorken had always loved the quiet time right before the sun rose, and usually spent the extra time doing chores, but today she was content to make some tea and stay inside, Murky still asleep, soothed by the pounding rain. The other villagers were making breakfast as well, and everyone was pleasantly relaxed. Murky was clearly feeling better, slurping down her tea and devouring her warm biscuits before racing outside to play. She was currently learning to catch bugs from Roe, tasked with gathering crickets for Alder's flour. Murky had slowly opened up even more to Sorken, and Sorken had responded in kind.

Murky returned from her lesson, proudly showing off her catches. They would go to the meadow with the rest of the village later, when the sun had set. It would be a full moon tonight, the perfect time for the festival. Sorken had helped specially prepare some of the decorations, and Murky was incredibly excited. It would be their first festival since their arrival in the village, and Sorken was determined to make sure it was perfect. Alder had spent most of the morning preparing the special pastries, and had been busy most of the day, helping the others with their chores. Adora and Piperita had also been hard at work. Even Elver seemed to get into the festival spirit, bringing the finest pelts he could find. And suddenly, it was time.

Murky looked at the village, excitement and awe clearly showing on their face. The village was decked out in beautiful garlands of shining fish scales, clearly polished and painted a light blue. The pelts Elver had brought lined a cozy nook, where Alder served the pastries, and the village settled in, swapping tales and stories. The moon rose higher in the sky, and they spent some time looking at the endless web of stars that hung overhead. Sorken brought Murky around the village, and they marveled at the different shining decorations made to catch the moons light. As the silvery sphere rose above the trees, the village seemed to blaze with silver light, and some cats struck up a tune. The sun was rising when Sorken gently led Murky, home, tucking her into bed. Murky had loved the festival, but it was high time for both cats to rest.