We climb in and drive. My wound throbs, blood soaking my fur.
“Stop the car. Now,” she orders.
“We’ve got another hour before the shelter—if we find it.”
“I’m not going another mile until I clean that wound!”
I stop. She’s already got her med kit and a cloth soaked in something awful.
“What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously.
“Disinfecting. Who knows where that bear’s been? Those claws are probably full of bacteria.”
“Unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“In your dreams! I’m the doctor here—and that wound needs cleaning!”
I sigh and let her approach with the foul cloth. On Sadjim, we’d lick wounds clean, but I doubt she’d appreciate that right now.
“Ow! Damn it, that stings!” I hiss.
“Oops, forgot to warn you. It’s clean now. You’ll need stitches later—narrow but deep punctures. For now, I’ll just bandage it.”
As she leans in, inspecting my side, my body responds on its own.
“Bandage? Purrsong, I’m already dealing with some... very noticeable swelling.”
She glances up, puzzled. Then down. Her eyes widen. A wicked smile curves her lips—and she pours more of that evil liquid right into the wound.
“You were still bleeding,” she says sweetly.
I grit my teeth and say nothing as she wraps me in fresh bandages. Once done, we get back on the road.
In silence.
Mostly.
18-Neela
It’s been about thirty minutes since we left the restricted zone and rejoined the path usually taken by the settlers. Around a bend in the road, we spot the silhouette of a housing unit nestled at the base of a majestic peak. Relief crashes over me like a wave.
Of course, my feline companion leaves me behind to scout the area and check inside. He’s back quickly, a smirk on his lips.
“Place is empty. And there are some ripe fruits in the garden!” he announces.
“I’m so glad we found this unit. There’s so much to do. We need to clean up, I have to take care of your wound, and we need to send a message to Kiran. And honestly, I’m dreaming of sleeping in a real bed!”
“Easy, Purrsong. If your brother tells us they’ve already sent out a search team, we’re not staying. We’ll head out as soon as we can.”
Hope and disappointment wrestle inside me, but Prax is right. The priority is to contact my brother and figure out how far ahead we are of the people Vassili will have sent after me.
I step into the shelter behind the Sadjim. It has three bedrooms, a modest kitchen, a small lounge, and a compact hygiene room.
I head into the garden corridor and find a bit of a mess. Without someone tending the plants regularly, the mature fruits and veggies have scattered their seeds haphazardly.Strawberries sprout between lettuce, tomatoes are tangled with kiwiberries.
My mom would’ve sighed in disapproval at the chaos. But what matters is—there’s food here. Anything's better than having to share one of my feline’s... fresh catches. I may be a little naïve, but I’m not blind. If needed, I’ll make myself eat that kind of food to survive. But thanks to this garden, that won’t be today.
Greed pulls me toward the raspberries flourishing among the green beans. Their bright color and sweet scent make my mouth water. I reach out, pluck one, and pop it in my mouth. The scarlet juice stains my fingers. The flavor is sharp and sweet and decadent, each tiny seed bursting under my tongue like pure delight. I love this fruit. But it's become a luxury—mostly hoarded by the people at the Palace.
