Aurora

Aurora pushed through the dense growth of trees and shrubs, her tears blinding her and making the trek even more difficult than expected. A while back, maybe a half mile, she had tripped on a tangle of roots and fallen limbs, launching herself into the base of a rather large pine tree. She had wanted to turn back so badly, but she kept moving. If she turned back now, everyone at home would know she was a failure. It would be just like her to fail at running away, too.

She stopped momentarily to dry her eyes and noticed the sky was turning the deep pinks and purples she associated with twilight. If she didn’t hurry, she would never make it to Longshore before dark. Then what would she do? She wasn't prepared to spend the night in the woods. Curse this godforsaken shortcut and Dylan for telling her to take it. She looked up at the fading daylight and let out a small cry.

“What should I do?” Holding her breath, she listened for any sign her guides had for her. But nothing but silence filled her ears. “Did you hear me?” She screamed this time, letting her voice carry above the dense tree cover. “What should I do? Freya, guide me to the right path and grant me your help.”

Dead silence. Nothing but the sound of crows calling in the distance filled her ears. “Fine, I’ll just do it myself, as always.”

She dragged herself forward, her eyes focused straight ahead, every fiber of her being pushing her toward a town she had never been to and a life she knew nothing about.

***

Sometime later, she heard it. Faint and in the mist, the sound of someone calling her name. “Aurora.” Stopping, she strained to listen to the faint voice. “Aurora, Aurora child, keep walking.”

“Who are you? Show yourself?” Nothing but silence and the cold chill of the coming night. Turning, she made a circle, her eyes scanning the surrounding woods. “Please. Please show yourself. It’s getting late, and I don’t think I’ll leave the forest before dark.” Fresh tears prickled the corners of Aurora’s eyes.

“Over here.” She heard it loud and clear from a large pine tree behind her on the left. Tentatively, she started to follow the small voice. A nest was around the back of the tree, and a huge cat was in the middle on a large, perfectly round stump. The cat was old, that much she could tell. Large and fluffy, it was hard to make out his face. Small ears and extremely long whiskers framed his blue eyes. “Hello?” she slowly walked toward him. At least, she thought it was a he. You never could tell with cats. “How did you know my name? Great, now I’m talking to a cat.” She said the last part more to herself.

“Whispers on the wind tell me lots of things. The birds like to gossip when they fly back from town. Why are you in the woods this close to dark?” His voice was soft and soothing.

Kneeling, she dropped her pack on the ground and studied his face. “How can you talk?”

“So many questions. I asked you one first.” He said with a hiss.

“No need to get feisty, running away, if you must know. There’s nothing for me in that god damned hell of a town. I’m eighteen now; I can make my own decisions.” Aurora moved closer to the cat and tucked her feet under her.

“That’s debatable. You decided to run away, but you don’t think your family will worry?” He licked his paw and smoothed the fur down on his stomach. “Names Winston, by the way, and to answer your previous question, I have no clue. I woke up one day, and here I was. A Norwegian forest cat talking to a grasshopper. Could have something to do with that tea, but I degrees.”

“Tea? What are you talking about?” She had to laugh; the cat's explanation made the absurdity of talking to a cat even worse. “I’m sure they will worry, but maybe they should! They never seem to care otherwise.” A big tear fell slowly down Aurora’s face.

“Are you ok? Where will you go?” The cat, Winston, got up and stretched as all cats do, then walked to stand right in front of Aurora. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“You didn’t. The whole situation makes me sad. To tell you the truth, I don’t even think they’ll know I’m gone. They’re all wrapped up in themselves like always. Do you know I mentioned my friend Dylan six times, and not once did anyone even acknowledge me? Well, that’s not entirely true. They said they didn’t trust a merchant sailor from Longshore. But how can they say that? They don’t even know him. I know his type, my father said. Type? What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked down to see that while she was talking, she had started to rub her hands through the cat’s soft fur, and he was purring! “Oh, sorry.” She went to pull her hand back.

“Don’t be. I had an itch anyway.” Winston stood and sniffed the air. “Maybe you only perceive it to be that way; sometimes, we have trouble seeing what’s in front of us.” His head spun to the left as he spotted a leaf fall, and then he returned his attention to Aurora. “How well do you know Dylan?”

“Perceive it? What do you mean? I think I know indifference when I see it.”

“That’s not indifference, Aurora, that’s concern. What if your perception is motivated by your feelings?” The cat pawed at a butterfly that flew close to his nose. “Like that butterfly probably thought I was trying to hurt it when it tickled my nose.”

Aurora watched Winston sit back down on his haunches, wrapping his tail snuggly around him. “I don’t know. My mother doesn’t think I’m ready to go to Longshore and marry. She sees Dylan as a distraction from my studies. Dylan says I can do both. Dylan thinks I don’t need to finish my studies. Then..”

Winston stopped her with a well-paced paw to the side of her cheek. “What does Aurora think?”

In the silence that followed, Aurora noticed the trees, how the tall forest canopy gave way in places to let the glowing twilight filter down, how the coming night air smelled sweet from the ferns and the decaying leaves of the Katsura tree—all things she hadn't noticed in years. She felt Winston's weight as he sat in her lap and the soft tickle of his fur.

“I want to write. I want to explore the forest and feel the grass under my bare feet. I want to write poetry and teach the village children to sing.” She sat silently momentarily, letting her mind wander over the last few weeks with Dylan. It had all gone so fast. He entered her village with a group of young men and immediately spotted her. Sometimes, she felt uneasy, but she only let herself acknowledge that now. Talking to the kindly cat seemed to help her see things from a new perspective.

“Have you ever told them what you wanted to do?”

His question startled her, bringing her back to the conversation.

“No one has ever asked me?” She looked down at the kindly cat, running her fingers through his thick, soft fur. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a cat about my life.”

“I know a thing or two about life; this is my eighth life. Still don’t know how I ended up here as a cat.” She could have sworn he winked at her. “So what are you going to do, Aurora?”

“I’m not sure. But I feel like I don’t want to go to Longshore. If Dylan has never asked me about my feelings, he's not any better than my family. I want to go back to the life I know and figure it out.” She waited for Winston to agree or disagree. He was rubbing his head against her arm and purring.

“I think that’s wise, especially with how dark it’s getting.” Winston looked toward the sky. The moon had now fully risen, and its golden light reflected off his grayish fur.

Following his gaze, Aurora panicked a little. “How will I find my way back in the dark? I think it's quicker to go home than press on to town, which I don’t want to do now. Will you come with me? I’ll carry you .”

“Sadly, I can’t. I tried once but can’t leave these woods; it wasn’t pretty.”

“But will I be able to come see you again? If I can find you?”

“If you can find me, you’re more than welcome.” Winston curled around her legs and purred. “But you need to head home now, and I think you’ll find you’re a lot closer than you thought and a lot stronger. Remember to accept nothing less than what you are due. Walk straight through that thicket; it will bring you home.” As he said it, he pointed his left paw at a thick growth of brush, and it suddenly drew back, revealing a passage. “That’s a portal to Darington, and it will bring you home.”

She reached down and rubbed her hands through his soft fur again. “Thank you, Winston, you’re very wise for a cat.”

He looked up at her and winked. “Remember not to drink random tea you find in the woods. I still don’t know what was in that tea. The answer was in you all along, Aurora.”

With that, he shot off into the woods, chasing some unseen creature that scurried in the night. Aurora squared her shoulders and turned toward home. The strong moonlight breaking through the trees lit her path, and a new resolve burned in her heart. From this perspective, the woods seemed less dark and scary, and the future was less uncertain. Longshore could wait, the grassy fields of Darington where she belonged.