Bright early morning sunshine streamed through the window of the small wooden hut Kyyanno found himself waking up in.  The cub rubbed his eyes and looked around.  The room was basic but homely, with an open log fire on the far wall and a cooking pot hung over it.  Delicious smells emanated from the pot, wafting through the room and entering the cheetah's nostrils.  He inhaled long and hard, savouring the scent and trying to identify it.   It seemed meat was on the menu for breakfast.

Sliding out from under the blanket that covered him, the cat jumped up from the bed of straw he had slept on and moved up to a small table in the middle of the room.  Two chairs were beside the table and bowls had been placed in front of each of them.  A spoon sat beside each bowl, and a jug of water took pride of place on the centre of the table. 

The door opening made the cheetah jump as an old, light grey cat holding a small sack entered the hut and removed her cloak.  She then took a knife out of her sack and started to chop vegetables that she kept  pulling out of the same receptacle.  Slice by slice, carrots and potatoes fell into the pot, each landing with a splash.  Once she had finished, she turned her attention to her guest.

“Good morning, young Far," she said with a smile.  Her voice was soft and sounded like her faded youth had been replaced by years of experience and wisdom.  “I hope you had a good sleep."

“I slept like a log," the youngster replied with a yawn.  His stomach gave a loud rumble, as if it wanted the conversation to end and the breakfast to be served.  Both felines laughed a little at this and the elder feline returned to her cooking.  

“Well, I hope you like stew for breakfast," the old cat said as she stirred her cooking.  “Once we're finished here, I thought you might want to say your farewells to Keeper Restante before he goes home."  She walked over to the table and took Kyyanno's bowl.  Taking a ladle from a shelf near the fire and dipping it in to the pot, the cat served out a generous portion of her freshly made stew and placed it back on the table.  With a wave of her paw, she invited the young cheetah to begin eating.  He did so with gusto.  Only when both bowls were empty did Kyyanno make an attempt at restarting the conversation.

“So, you're CloudLion," the cheetah said as the grey feline took the meal equipment to a small tub of water and started cleaning them.  “And even though I'm Kyyanno, everyone knows me as Far for some reason.  Why is last night's celebration so fuzzy?"

“Med thinks you might have partaken in some fermented beverages normally reserved for the, shall we say, more mature felines," CloudLion said with a small chuckle.  “It seems your early maturity has fooled even those who should know better than to give such drinks to cubs."  Giving each item a wipe with a small cloth to dry them, the cat put her crockery away and grabbed her cloak once more.

“Are you going out again?" Kyyanno asked.  CloudLion shook her head and smiled.

“No, youngster," she said, beckoning with her paw.  “We are going out.  I think some fresh air might clear some of the fuzz from your brain."

Kyyanno was about to protest but he caught the elder feline's expression and realised she was attempting a little light humour, and was not aiming to insult.  Poking his tongue out at the hand that fed him, the cheetah followed CloudLion through the door and into the main village of Windrush. 

***

The dappled sunshine gave the colour of Windrush a deep green hue as the light streamed through the trees in which the village was built.  Pathways trodden down through the forest by many years of use marked out clear tracks to the huts owned by each family.  There were many of these paths, weaving in and out of the tree trunks like a crazy maze of confusion.  Kyyanno wondered how anyone could remember who lived where when all they had to guide them was a simple and seemingly unmarked dirt track.

CloudLion certainly did not seem to have any problems navigating her way to the village centre.  Her speed gave no indication of her lack of youth, and the young cheetah following had trouble keeping up with his aged guide.  The flapping cloak allowed the cub to hear where she had gone if she dropped out of sight, and if he could no longer hear that, then he used his best guess and hoped that it would not get him lost in the woods.

After what seemed like an age to the youngster, they reached the centre of the village of Windrush.  Kyyanno looked in wonderment at the buildings that surrounded him.  Their construction had been masked by a combination of darkness and alcohol during the night, and he had missed the ingenuity of their design.  Instead of fighting nature and removing trees to erect their shops, workhouses, homes, and outhouses, the cats had used the trunks of trees as supports and taken great care at carving into the still living tree the exact shape needed to hold walls, floors, and roofs.  Buildings were a little scattered around; their location being dictated by the number of trees available to work with.  However, there seemed to be a logical order to everything, and while everything was basic and almost old fashioned to the cheetah, the tribe of Windrush appeared not to be lacking in anything. 

It was still early in the morning, though not so early to put anyone off being up and about.  It seemed the entire village population had either stayed out all night, or were very early risers.  Felines of all shapes and breeds were awake and making their busy way through the day.  Each passing tribe member gave a little motion of respect to CloudLion as they passed her, and wished the cheetah a good morning.  It was a strange feeling for the cheetah for everyone to be behaving so differently, and yet almost exactly as they would have done if he were still in Tobbac.  

CloudLion put her arm around the young feline as he choked back the memory of his former home, and the family he left behind.  She drew him in for a hug, and the cheetah obliged.  No words were said between the two as Kyyanno swallowed the flow of tears and sorrow that wanted to burst forth and be freed.  Once he had composed himself as best as he could, he broke the hug and the two cats continued on their journey.

Finally they came to their destination.  Kyyanno looked at the building, and back at CloudLion.  She nodded, as if answering the confused look on his face.  Reaching over a gate to open the latch and swinging the gate open, the village elder led the young cheetah through the courtyard of the blacksmith.  

It was not much of a courtyard, but more of a large patch of short grass surrounded by a brick wall just large enough to reach the waist of most of the adults.  None of the clutter that had festooned the yards of Forge or Apodemus could be seen, and the smell of the blacksmith's forge was also missing.  However, the small metal sign hung alongside the gate stated that they had indeed arrived at the smithy.

“Right," CloudLion said in hushed tones as they crossed the courtyard and approached the basic wooden front door to the smith's workshop, “we must be quiet and wait for the door to open once we've knocked.  Smith Garlon does hate to be disturbed when he's working."

“How come?" Kyyanno asked.  He was used to blacksmiths being friendly types, who would make time for him.  They were often at their happiest when they were busy, but still enjoying the distraction that Kyyanno would bring.  

“Not all smiths are like the ones you've met, Kyyanno," CloudLion replied, as if reading his mind.  “Some of them are very hard to pull away once they have dug their teeth into a project.  Garlon's one like that.  However, since StarSeer's informed me that you used to spend a lot of time near the smith in your former home, we thought that a few hours helping out here each day might prevent some homesickness."

The young cheetah nodded and waited while CloudLion knocked on the door.  He did not really want to be reminded of home right now, but aside from the brief wobble he had experienced earlier things had not been so bad.  He was about to ask if any news had come back yet about the fate of the citizens of Tobbac when the door creaked open and an old and weatherbeaten face poked out of it.

“Yes?" a gruff voice asked.  The liger's eyes were looking Kyyanno up and down as he spoke but he turned his attention to CloudLion when she spoke to him.

“This is young Far, Garlon, though he told me last night he prefers Kyyanno for now," she said, with the most regal and confident tone Kyyanno had ever heard a female use.  “I assume that ThunderClaw has informed you of his arrival and your duty?"

The expression on the liger's face softened a little and he nodded.  Opening his door fully, he gestured for both felines to enter his domain.

The room behind the door was larger than the entirety of CloudLion's home.  It was filled with tables, chairs, bookcases, desks, and an assortment of other wooden furniture.  Each of the bookcases stood against the far wall, and took up the space from floor to ceiling.  The only spot not covered by bookcase was covered by a long curtain, which Kyyanno reasoned hid a window to the outside world.  Each case was filled with books, and each of the books were leather bound and fat with pages.  A plaque on the top of the leftmost case read Windrush Archives and a writing desk in front of the bookcases had a small pile of paper, an ink pen, and a small bottle of ink left on it.  The rest of the room was neat and well ordered, and gave the impression that this was a room that was only used when necessary and not on a day-in-day-out basis.

“Impressed, little one?"  The harsh voice of the liger was softer, but still had a rough edge.  It was as if the large feline had been told to be nice to the young cheetah, and was using every ounce of strength to behave.  Kyyanno looked him over before nodding.  The liger was the largest cat that the cub had ever seen.  He appeared to be so high that the youngster thought he must walk alongside the trees, not under them, and to go with the height came the muscles that rippled under his shirt and trousers.  Even Forge would have had problems besting this beast in a duel the cheetah thought.  Eventually the cub found his voice.

“I can honestly say," he muttered, trying not to fawn, “that I have never seen anyone so large before in all my life."

“And you probably never will," the liger laughed, caught off guard and tickled by the cheetah's frank reply.  His laugh was deep and came from the belly.  It changed his whole expression, wiping off the stern look and replacing it with the features Kyyanno was used to in a blacksmith.  The smile, the slight twinkle behind the eyes, the forward-facing ears, and the look of controlled raw power.

“Well," CloudLion exclaimed with a small gasp of shock and a smile, “I certainly did not expect you to have quite that impact on our blacksmith, young Kyyanno.  I can't say I can recall the last time a cub made our Garlon laugh like that."

“I'm not surprised," Kyyanno replied, a little confused at the sudden explosion of laughter.  “They probably see Cat Mountain and run screaming.  I remember dad saying I was terrified of Forge when I first saw him."  Garlon gulped down a second burst of laughter upon hearing himself be described as Cat Mountain.

“Less of the names, please young cheetah," the liger said as he fought to regain some composure.  “Show a little more respect for your elders."

“Sorry," came the bemused reply as the cheetah went back to looking around the room.  “But try putting yourself in our shoes.  You're huge, and quite intimidating."

“Good," both older cats said in unison.  CloudLion motioned for Kyyanno to sit in one of the chairs while she explained.

“You see," she started once the cub was seated at giving her his full attention, “there are many folks out there that would like nothing more than to invade our fair lands and take it for their own.  I'm sure that you don't need to be told that, considering the unfortunate circumstances that brings you to us."  Kyyanno winced as the memory hit him afresh.  He composed himself and the old grey cat continued.  “If we have large characters like Garlon roaming around the village, those who aim to attack us on a whim see that we are well defended.  It deters the opportunistic attacker."

“Any news on home, yet?" Kyyanno saw the opening he did not realise he was waiting for, and dropped his question into the conversation.  He saw Garlon quickly look at CloudLion with a wide-eyed expression which could have been a look of shock, or panic, or just surprise but the cub could not quite work out which.  CloudLion, however, did not show any change of emotion.  She took a deep breath and a moment to think about her words.

“We have sent out word to neighbouring villages, warning them of the danger," she replied, keeping her voice and tone as even as it had ever been.  “We have asked that any word on Blacktooth and his army be reported to us as soon as possible.  Armies in the past have often abandoned conquered villages once they have been stripped of their worth, while others have used them as a base of operations."  The cat pulled a chair over to Kyyanno and sat upon it, taking his paw in her own.  “Whatever the outcome though," she continued," you have to be ready to hear the worst.  We all hope that you have happy news, and that the villagers of Tobbac were either able to fend off Blacktooth's army or escape, but if what happened at Souford happened to Tobbac, I'm afraid there is very little hope.  I am sorry."

Kyyanno gulped down the new wave of tears that wanted to run free from his body.  As much as he felt the grief and pain of knowing what probably happened, until news came there was always a chance that things would be okay.  He also did not want to break down in front of Garlon.  He had somehow been strong throughout the entire journey to Windrush, another couple of days must be possible, surely?  It felt harder this time, however.  Before, it had felt like someone else was alongside him, filtering away all the unpleasant thoughts of what might be and filling his head with optimistic sensibilities.  Now that feeling was gone, and with it went a lot of his composure and calmness.  All that was left was the knowledge that everyone considered him far more mature than he really was, and it was an image the cheetah very much wanted to maintain at this moment.

“So," the liger said, apparently keen to change the subject, “I've been told that you used to hang around Forge's workshop a lot.  Correct?"  The bull walked up to Kyyanno and put his paw on the cub's shoulder.  He knelt down until he was meeting the cheetah's eye level and whispered in to his ear.  “I hope you're ready for a walk."

“Why?" came the whispered reply.  It was a confused whisper, as Kyyanno was left wondering why the sudden secrecy.

“Because I have something to show you, little one."  Indicating that it was time to go, the liger bade farewell to CloudLion and left out of a back door with Kyyanno silently in tow.

***

The pathways of the forest still made no sense as Kyyanno followed his liger leader though the trees of Windrush.  The pace was much slower this time, and the cub had no problems at all keeping up.  He was tempted to ask the large feline if he was going to get a chance to say farewell to Keeper as CloudLion had promised, as well as a barrage of other questions, but he decided to wait until they had reached whatever destination they were heading to.  Garlon gave the young feline no clue either, he just headed forward along a dirt path that criss-crossed many other similar dirt paths.  

After a good while, the scent of burning coal started to drift on the breeze.  It was a little different to the smell Kyyanno was used to, but close enough for the cub to recognise immediately as the smell of a forge.  A grin had appeared on Garlon's face as he watched the cogs whir in Kyyanno's mind, and the young cheetah looked up at the large cat, his own smile forming.  The comforting odour of the workspace of a blacksmith had been lacking in his life since he left the care of the smith at Pentreafon, and to have it back in his life filled the cheetah with an unusual sense of reassurance.  Maybe everything was not so bad after all?  

Following his nose, Kyyanno picked up the pace.  Never running, but walking a little quicker, he soon put a little distance between himself and the liger.  The complexity of the paths no longer mattered as the cheetah no longer needed them to guide him, he could follow the smell to its source.  Garlon kept at his own speed, allowing the excitement in the cheetah to build until the grey stone building of the blacksmith workshop came into view.

The smithy was built in a clearing in the forest, with no trees around to block the way.  A large chimney pumped out a constant flow of thin smoke that drifted in a lazy fashion over the workshop that stuck out of the base like a tumour.  The neat shape of Forge's workshop was a stark contrast to the odd proportions of this building.  At first glance, Kyyanno thought that it had originally been a small home, which had been extended with a larger home built on to the side, with the large chimney built into the side of that.  Finally, coming off the chimney at a right angle was another smaller home-like structure with large wooden doors closed with a thick wooden bar hung between two metal brackets, one on each of the doors.  The door opened from the centre, or at least it would have done had it not been barred shut.

The main door of the workshop opened and an ocelot stuck his head out to meet the two felines as they approached. He wore a flat cap that almost covered his eyes, and had a leather apron slung around his neck and tied around his waist.  He extended a paw in greeting to Kyyanno as the cheetah approached.  It was a welcome gesture that was gratefully returned with a shake that attempted to give as good as it got.

“Hello Far," the ocelot said, a beaming smile illuminating his face under his cap.  “I wondered if I'd be seeing you all the way out here today."

“It's Kyyanno for the time being," Garlon corrected, nodding his own welcome to the ocelot.  “At least until he's trained.  Kyyanno, meet my assistant here at the forge, Porter."

“It's a pleasure," Kyyanno said, remembering his manners.

“Believe me," Porter replied, “the pleasure is all mine.  Shall we go inside?"

***

The inside of the workshop was a marked difference to the room Kyyanno had previously been in, and it was as if every happy memory had hit him all at once.  The chaos, mess, and bits of metal and wood that had festooned the buildings of the previous blacksmiths he had met was equalled, if not exceeded in this new building.  Half completed projects littered the floor in a fashion that Kyyanno presumed was an organised one, but had the distinct impression of just being dumped anywhere there was space.  Benches and shelving units were lined along the walls, and each one was filled with tins of paint, varnish, tools, and boxes of things that would normally be junk but might just be useful one day.  Or, at least, that was what was written on the side of one of the boxes.

Kyyanno stopped in the doorway to take it all in.  He wanted to burst into happy tears there and then.  It was all so normal.  It was a different location, but for the first time since arriving at Windrush, the cheetah felt he was somewhere he knew.  Porter seemed to be trying to read his expression.  He looked at the cheetah for a good few seconds before Kyyanno met his gaze.

“You're an odd one," the ocelot finally said, stroking his chin and cocking his head to one side while he stared at the cub.  “Most folks go stir crazy when they come here.  They go all over excited at the bits and bobs laying around here.  Some complain about the mess, some think we're making sculptures and start commenting on how artistic we are.  Not you though."

“That's experience is all," Garlon commented before Kyyanno could formulate a reply.  His voice reverted back to the gruffer tones of before now he was no longer addressing the cub.  “The young 'un has been in plenty o' forges in his short time.  Haven't you?"  The last two words were said in the more gentle tones that the liger had been using when speaking to the young feline.  It was not a patronising tone, but it was less aggressive sounding and Kyyanno was secretly glad for it.  He assumed it would not be too long before familiarity took over, however, and the gruffer tone remained a constant.

“I used to play outside near the blacksmith's workshop a lot," the cheetah replied, “and shortly before we were att…  I helped Forge out a little.  It was he who first gave me the instructions on how to use two blades instead of a single sword.  Though they were sticks at the time, we were only young."  Kyyanno gave a little sigh, but he was not given the chance to feel sad for Porter made a little squeak at the mention of weapons.  Both other cats turned to look at the ocelot with surprised expressions.  With a light skip, the small cat darted out of the room and into the larger area behind it.  After a few clang noises of things falling on the floor, Porter returned carrying a long and thin box.

“You reminded me, talking of your blades," came the excited explanation as the lid came off the box.  Inside were Kyyanno's sai blades, gleaming with a fresh coat of polish and nestled in a Velvet lined holder.  “CloudLion gave these to me last night and told me to take good care of them.  I couldn't believe it when I saw they were badger blades.  I then researched their origins in our library.  It turns out, according to our texts, that you are the grandson of a member of our tribe named NightClaw."

“Erm, yes," Kyyanno said, slowly.  A vision of an Old English SheepDog named Stafford came into his mind.  The dog had told him to say the name NightClaw when he arrived at Windrush.  Also the visions of a jaguar named StarSeer had mentioned that he was a descendant of NightClaw which was how he had managed to visit the cub in his dreams.  The last thought that entered the cheetah's mind was the moment his father, Tunza, had first presented the sai blades to him, against the older cheetah's better judgement.  They had been a gift from his own father, though when the story had been relayed to Kyyanno, Tunza had never mentioned his father's name.

“Oh," Porter said, a little deflated.  “You already knew?"

“No," Kyyanno quickly said, hoping not to upset his new acquaintance so soon after meeting him.  “Well, yes and no.  I know only the name and that I'm his grandson.  I know nothing of the cat, or how he came to have the blades."  The ocelot perked up again and was just about to speak when he was cut off by Garlon's gruff voice.

“I'm afraid that story will have to wait," he said.  “You've still got a lot of work to do, Porter.  Whereas you, Kyyanno, have an otter to see off, I believe?  He should be almost ready to go by now, so we'd best hurry."

The memory jolted the cheetah.  He could not believe he had almost forgotten about saying his goodbyes to Keeper.  With a fond farewell to Porter, Kyyanno allowed Garlon to escort him from the comfort of the workshop and across the winding paths to the edge of the forest where a leopard and a large grey cat were waiting.  Kyyanno recognised them as ThornClaw and ThunderClaw.  They had been the ones who had prevented Kyyanno and Keeper from being attacked by traitorous guard dogs just outside of the borders of Windrush.  They gave a small wave when they saw the liger and cheetah approaching through the trees.  Looking around, Kyyanno realised that Keeper was noticeable by his absence.  

“We're too late, aren't we?" the cheetah asked, his expression falling.  “He's gone, and I missed the chance to say farewell."  Garlon put a comforting paw on the cub's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Actually," ThunderClaw said as an exasperated sigh passed his lips, “it turns out that he is even worse at timekeeping than you two are."

“ThunderClaw and I are meant to be escorting him back to Avonwood," ThornClaw added, footpaw tapping on the ground with impatience.  “The elders thought there was a risk of an ambush lying in wait for him.  However, if he doesn't get a move on and get his fuzzy backside here soon, I'll slay the riverdog myself."

“I would have thought he would have been up at the crack of dawn," mused Garlon as he looked up the path in case the otter came into view.  “After all, he is the Keeper of the postal barge.  If any one should be used to having an early start, it's him."

The four felines engaged in idle chatter for a while, with Kyyanno taking this time to become better acquainted with the two fighting cats.  After a short while, a very familiar voice came through the trees.

“Hello?" it called.  “Is that the escort party for me?"  The shape of an otter wandered out of the forest as Keeper emerged.  He looked a little tired, and quite relieved to see the four cats waiting for him.  “This place is a maze, I swear it," he said as he approached.  “I think I've spent half the morning hunting for the right path to get here.  I was given instructions, but I think that unless you have an innate working knowledge of how these tracks are routed, directions mean nothing.  You're going to have fun learning these, kid."

“I'll have them memorised in no time," Kyyanno laughed as Keeper embraced the cub in a large hug.  “I'm going to miss travelling with you and the others."

“We'll come visit if we can," Keeper replied, releasing his small friend.  “If we're allowed, that is," he added, looking at the other three felines.  Three heads started nodding.

“You helped one of our tribesmen come home," ThunderClaw said, his voice monotone but friendly.  “You put yourself in danger to protect someone smaller and weaker than yourself when you had no reason to get involved.  We respect that here.  You and your team are welcome here, always."

Handshakes were exchanged, and with a final round of farewells between the cheetah and otter, Keeper departed the forests of Windrush, accompanied by the two burly forms of ThunderClaw and ThornClaw.  Kyyanno and Garlon turned back to the workshop.  Dragging behind a little, the cub took the opportunity to wipe a small tear from the corner of his eye.  The last link to his former life had just walked away.  From here on in, his new life had begun.