Squirt's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Squirt nudged the last mewling kitten back into the pile and sighed. Four of them now, orphaned and squirming, dumped into his careful life like spilled milk. He had decided already: these tiny scraps would grow into the finest mannered cats Luminara had ever seen. But first, they had to stop rolling toward the stairs. He surveyed the open room with a soldier's eye. Too many corners. Too many drafts. One kitten was already gumming the leg of a chair. Another wobbled toward a gap behind the cabinet. Squirt's tail twitched. This would not do. He found what he needed in the quiet alcove: a woven nest of soft, glowing fibers, domed and deep enough to hold every kitten at once. He dragged it into place with his teeth, fluffed the inside, and tucked a smooth, gently warm stone among the bedding. One by one, he carried the kittens in. They curled against the stone and quieted. Satisfied, Squirt climbed the tall carved perch beside the nest and settled at its highest tier. From here he could see every whisker. The kittens were contained. The kittens were safe. And already, one was trying to climb out.