Seeking to bite you

The ancient floorboards of the cottage creaked beneath Elisha’s bare feet as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her calico-patterned ears twitching at every labored breath that escaped her great-great-grandmother’s lips. The small bedroom felt suffocating, thick with the scent of burning sage and wilting lavender that her mother had scattered around the room in a desperate attempt to ease the old woman’s passing. Shadows danced across the weathered walls from the single flickering candle on the nightstand, casting an eerie glow over the frail figure lying beneath layers of worn quilts.

Nana Thalia’s once-vibrant golden fur had long since faded to a dull cream, her tiger-striped ears now paper-thin and drooping with exhaustion. Her breathing came in shallow, rattling gasps that made Elisha’s chest tighten with each sound. The old woman’s clouded amber eyes, which had seen nearly a century of seasons change in their quiet village, struggled to focus on the two figures hovering at her bedside.

“Come closer, little one,” Nana Thalia’s voice was barely a whisper, dry as autumn leaves rustling in the wind. Her gnarled fingers, spotted with age and trembling with effort, reached out toward Elisha. “There are things... important things I must tell you before I join the ancestors.”

Elisha’s mother, Mira, moved silently to the other side of the bed, her own black and silver ears flat against her head with worry. She reached for one of Nana Thalia’s hands, her touch gentle and reverent. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking in the candlelight – both shared the same delicate bone structure and alert, intelligent expressions, though Mira’s calico markings ran more to silver and black where Elisha’s blazed with ginger and ebony.

“We’re here, Nana,” Mira murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Whatever you need to say, we’re listening.”

The dying woman’s eyes found Elisha’s face, and suddenly they seemed to clear, becoming sharp and focused with an intensity that made the young woman’s tail bristle instinctively. When Nana Thalia spoke again, her voice carried a weight that filled the small room, echoing with the authority she had commanded as the village’s most trusted seer for over sixty years.

“The sight comes to me now, child, clearer than it has been in years.” Her grip on Elisha’s hand tightened with surprising strength. “I see darkness gathering around you like storm clouds, and death stalking your footsteps with hungry eyes. But there is hope – a path that will lead you to safety, though it winds far from our peaceful woods.”

Elisha felt her breath catch in her throat, her light green eyes widening with fear and confusion. Her ears flattened against her skull as she tried to process the ominous words. “Nana, I don’t understand. What darkness? What death?”

“Listen carefully, for my time grows short and this prophecy must be heard.” Nana Thalia’s voice grew stronger, as if drawing power from some unseen source. “You must leave this place, travel to the great city where humans swarm like ants in their stone hives. There you will search for a man – he will have hair the color of rich earth after rain, and eyes that do not match. One will be brown like fertile soil, the other blue like a summer sky.”

The old woman paused, her breathing becoming more labored, but her grip on Elisha’s hand never wavered. Mira leaned forward, her own ears pricked with attention, though her face had gone pale with worry.

“This man,” Nana Thalia continued, “he is the knife that will cut through the threads of your fate. When you find him, you must bite his shoulder – draw blood with your teeth as our ancestors did to mark their chosen. Only then will the prophecy be complete, only then will you be safe from the horrible death that awaits if you fail.”

Elisha’s tail lashed behind her, betraying her inner turmoil despite her efforts to remain calm. The very thought of leaving their secluded village, of venturing into the chaotic world of humans, filled her with a dread that made her stomach churn. “But Nana, I’ve never even seen a human before. How will I know this man? How will I find him in a city full of strangers?”

“Trust in the sight, child. Trust in the blood that runs through your veins – the same blood that has guided our family’s seers for generations.” Nana Thalia’s voice was fading now, but her words remained clear and urgent. “My prophecies have never failed, you know this. When I saw the great storm that destroyed the eastern bridge, when I warned of the sickness that would take old Henrik’s sheep – I have never been wrong, and I am not wrong now.”

The truth of this statement hung heavy in the air. Everyone in the village knew of Nana Thalia’s gift, how her visions had saved them from countless disasters over the decades. Elisha had grown up hearing stories of her great-great-grandmother’s prophetic abilities, never once doubting their accuracy.

“How long do I have?” Elisha’s voice was barely audible, her throat tight with emotion.

“The darkness gathers strength with each passing day. You must leave quickly – before the next full moon rises, or it will be too late.” Nana Thalia’s eyes began to flutter closed, her strength finally ebbing away. “Remember, little cat, you are braver than you know. The blood of warriors flows in your veins, even if you have never had to call upon it.”

With those final words, the old woman’s breathing grew even more shallow, and Elisha knew their time together was coming to an end. She squeezed her great-great-grandmother’s hand gently, tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks.

“I love you, Nana,” she whispered. “I’ll do as you’ve said. I won’t let your final prophecy go unfulfilled.”

A soft smile crossed Nana Thalia’s weathered features. “Good child. Now go – there is much to prepare.”

As the old woman drifted into what they all knew would be her final sleep, Elisha and her mother quietly left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. The main room of the cottage felt impossibly large after the intimate confines of the sickroom, the familiar furniture and belongings suddenly seeming foreign and distant.

Mira sank into her favorite rocking chair, her hands covering her face as the weight of what they had just heard settled upon them both. Elisha stood in the center of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, tail still twitching with anxiety.

“Mother,” she said finally, breaking the heavy silence, “we cannot tell the little ones about this. About the death that might... that could happen to me.”

Mira looked up at her daughter, her eyes red-rimmed but determined. “Elisha, surely we must tell them something. They’ll want to know why you’re leaving so suddenly.”

“No.” Elisha’s voice was firm, though it trembled slightly. “I won’t have them crying and worrying, thinking they might never see their sister again. They’re too young to carry such a burden.” She thought of her three younger siblings – Kira, only sixteen and still so innocent; the twins Tam and Tess, barely fourteen and full of mischief and laughter. The image of their faces crumpling with grief and fear was more than she could bear.

“Tell them I’ve gone to the city to trade furs, or to find work, or... anything that won’t frighten them. Promise me, Mother.”

Mira rose from her chair and crossed to her daughter, pulling her into a fierce embrace. Elisha buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of pine sap and wood smoke that always clung to her clothing.

“I promise,” Mira whispered against her daughter’s hair. “But you must promise me something in return – promise you’ll come back to us. Promise you’ll complete this quest and return home safely.”

“I will try my best, Mother. I’ll find this man, fulfill the prophecy, and come home as quickly as I can.” Elisha pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes, seeing her own determination reflected there. “I can’t bear to say goodbye to Kira and the twins. It would break my heart, and theirs too. I’ll leave before dawn, while they’re still sleeping.”

“Then we must prepare quickly,” Mira said, wiping away her tears and shifting into the practical mindset that had helped her raise four children largely on her own. “You’ll need supplies, warm clothes, and enough coin to get you to the capital.”

They spent the next several hours in focused preparation. Mira pulled out her old traveling pack, one she had used in her younger days before settling down to raise her family. Together, they filled it with practical necessities: dried meat and fruit, a water skin, a warm cloak, spare clothes, and a small pouch of silver coins that Mira had been saving for emergencies.

“Here,” Mira said, pressing a small wrapped bundle into Elisha’s hands. “This was your father’s hunting knife. It’s sharp and well-balanced, and it will serve you better than any weapon you could buy in the city.”

Elisha unwrapped the leather binding to reveal a beautiful blade with an ornate handle carved from antler. She had never seen it before, as her mother rarely spoke of her father, who had died when Elisha was just an infant.

“Thank you,” she said softly, running her finger along the smooth handle. “I’ll treasure it.”

As they worked, Mira dispensed advice with the urgency of a mother who knew her time to guide her child was running short. “Remember, the city will be nothing like our village. Humans can be cruel and suspicious of our kind. Keep your ears covered when possible, and try not to let your tail show too obviously.”

“I understand, Mother.”

“And Elisha,” Mira’s voice took on a stern tone, “no matter how hungry you become, no matter how desperate things seem, you must not steal. Our family has never resorted to thievery, and I won’t have you start now. There are honest ways to earn food and shelter, even in the human world.”

“I would never dishonor our family that way,” Elisha assured her, though privately she wondered what she would do if faced with true desperation. The human world was completely unknown to her, and the thought of navigating it alone filled her with dread.

“Stay away from strangers who seem too friendly or too interested in you,” Mira continued, her maternal instincts in full force. “Trust your nose and your ears – they will tell you things about people that your eyes cannot. And remember, if someone seems dangerous, run. Your speed and agility are your greatest advantages.”

As the night wore on and their preparations neared completion, both women found themselves reluctant to acknowledge that dawn was approaching. The reality of their impending separation hung between them like a physical presence, making every word and gesture precious.

“I wish I could come with you,” Mira said quietly as she helped Elisha adjust the straps of the pack. “If I didn’t have the little ones to care for...”

“I know, Mother. But they need you here, and this is something I must do alone. Nana’s prophecy was clear – this is my burden to bear.”

Mira nodded, though her eyes filled with fresh tears. “You are so much like your father, you know. He had that same determination, that same sense of responsibility. He would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

As the first pale hints of dawn began to creep through the cottage windows, Elisha knew the time had come. She shouldered her pack, the weight of it feeling heavier than the supplies it contained. Everything she had ever known, everyone she had ever loved, would be left behind in this small wooden home.

“Tell them I love them,” she said to her mother, her voice breaking slightly. “Tell them I think of them every day, and that I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“I will,” Mira promised, pulling her daughter into one final, desperate embrace. “Be safe, my brave girl. Trust in yourself and in Nana’s wisdom. The ancestors will watch over you.”

With that, Elisha stepped out into the cool morning air, not daring to look back at the cottage that had sheltered her for twenty years. The familiar sounds of the awakening village – birds calling from the treetops, the distant lowing of cattle, the soft murmur of her neighbors beginning their daily routines – followed her as she made her way toward the forest path that would lead her away from everything she had ever known.

Her calico ears swiveled constantly as she walked, picking up every sound with painful clarity. Part of her hoped to hear her siblings stirring, calling out her name, giving her an excuse to turn back. But the cottage remained quiet behind her, and with each step, the weight of her destiny grew heavier on her shoulders.

The prophecy burned in her mind like a brand: a man with brown hair and mismatched eyes, who would be her salvation if she could find the courage to seek him out in the vast, unknowable human city. As the sun climbed higher and the familiar woods began to thin around her, Elisha touched the knife at her belt for comfort and pressed forward into her uncertain future.