Veil was humming a little ditty
as she flounced through the woods.
Her small stature enlarging the perceived size
of the trees around her.
And not too far the little one humming,
was another feline hunting,
With claws extended,
He leaped at the little beast (a rush that felt splendid),
And ended the life of the little thing that creeped.
Upon hearing the screech,
of the little thing that creeped,
the little cat's pace fell slack.
Mint green eyes peered,
searching for the feared.
Instead a spiky cat was detected
any any doubts were no longer effective.
His hears perked, the spiky cat,
As he hear the pitter and pat
Of a new beast
(Though this didn't veer him away from his little feast).
He the reaper
Tore flesh from the creeper
Then just loud enough to hear
He asked "Who goes there?"
Leaping past the trees like flame
the small cat had nothing to gain.
She slid close
for her Brook had few foes,
and spoke aloud her name.
For it had not always been the same.
"Veil is who am I
for this I have no reason to lie.
Your name I expect in turn
for there is much of you,
for me to learn."
He licked away the blood stain,
Of the little one who was slain,
He spoke, back pressed against a rock,
"A name I'll return, that name being Zadok.
Please give me some space,
It bothers me to have someone so close to my face."
Grinning, the tawny cat slid back.
"For such bluntness you have quite a knack.
Oft I have come across
those who have met me, without any loss."
With whiskers twitching she breathed deep.
"I am the first of the Brook you have come to meet.
Long you have traveled on weary feet
and a soft nest, fluffed with moss would do you best."
"I appreciate your kindness,
To let me in your Brook's homestead, their fortress,
And not to say I disagree,
But why let a stranger in without knowing he maybe a killer,
Someone who might be set to slay your kin to feed some sick and sinful hunger?
Isn't that something you might ponder?
After all, to these woods I am a stranger."
"Our brook is home to all.
Whatever tragedies that may us befall,
(though I, myself have never known one)
we simply regroup
and move somewhere else beneath the sun.
And one may never know
whether they are friend or foe,
or even a being of something greater.
In which case refusal of help
could end with the loss of everyone's pelt.
Your tale you may tell us later,
after food and drink, you have had your fill.
This is of mine and my Brooks will."
"Fine, I will eat till merry
And rest happily
Only because its your Brooks will,
(I'd rather rest there than a noisy mill),
For I too roam,
And where ever I lay my head is home. "
"Across this forest, I ask that you follow me
unless you think this trek will tire thee,
for I can take you there almost instantaneously.
If that is what you choose
your orientation you may lose.
For many powers rule our Brook
and each member possesses his/her own nook."
Two options I offer,
and wait while your decision, you ponder.
"Lead the way, I will follow"
He meowed with a small bow,
"But as we move swiftly over the rock, grass, moss, and flowers,
What do you mean by 'powers'?"
Spinning on the spot
away I trot.
"We each bring something to fit our role.
Many of my companions
possess extraordinary abilities.
May it be teleportation
(which is is my own)
or various elemental control.
Many paths we follow
and not all are together
but for now we wallow
and pass over fields of grain, grass, and heather.
We are guided by a cat of old,
and not much of her past has been told.
She leads us with wisdom and justice,
and holds us united with just this.
Soon you shall meet
and nothing for you will we cheat."
"Is that so?
Maybe I might find a power of my own,
With a claw swipe I can rot flesh,
Turn dead what was once alive and fresh,
But I see it more as a curse that a power,
And how old is this leader?
As old as the trees hither?"
"Even I am uncertain,
for she seems to never age a day,
while I have grown from a kit to adult.
In a way,
she seems immortal,
(though her passed cousin has proved that false).
Many a power proves to be a curse
and often the bearer grows remorse and mirth,
wishing to belong only to the earth
and to no other force.
But we cannot chose what have been choose for us
and can only live with what we have before us."
And with the persistent pounding of paw pads against the ground,
Within the golden glow of the forest around,
The two, the judge and the sprite
saw their destination in sight.