“What is it?” Turin asks.
My hand went up asking for silence to which he complied. There it was again; a faint brush against my consciousness. Here young one; follow my voice.
“She’s over here,” I said pointing to a heavily wooded area. We left the path and found our way across the moss covered ground. This part of the forest was darker, more secluded which made sense. These cats were very secretive, loners actually, unless they were seeking a mate or raising kittens.
You’re almost there she said encouragingly, just a few more paces.
I stopped to look at my surroundings; nothing but trees, ferns, and moss could be seen. Where are you? I thought and a fern began shaking a few yards away.
Over here young one, under the log, she replied.
Turin and I made our way to the log where we found an extended paw, claws wrapped around the fern stem, still shaking the plant. I’m here, I told the cat and she stopped.
You’ll need to move the log to see me. I cannot come to you, her voice rasped in my head.