Chapter 1: Two Birds

            Brigit’s mother picked her up in her jaws and ran from death. Terror stained the air with the putrid smell of sweat. Crunches of branches underfoot grew louder and ever louder behind them. The hot sun pushed through the bramble of branches overhead, and birds fled from the sounds with terrified screams. Brigit meowed softly and tried to look at her mother’s golden face.

            “Sshh,” Mother whispered, jumping over a fallen log. Brigit swung from her mother’s jaws and meowed again in complaint. Something whizzed by and exploded on the ground to their left and Mother jumped to the right and continued running. Brigit’s eyes went wide. Fear rose up into her throat and radiated off her tiny form.

            “What happening, Ma?” Brigit murmured. Mother didn’t answer. She kept running.

            The footfall behind them eventually grew quieter until it became nonexistent. Mother slowed her pace and looked over her shoulder. The stillness hid danger. The birds did not sing and the bugs did not cry out. There was nothing. Even Brigit’s mother held her breath. Finally, Ma relaxed and dropped Brigit to the ground. She licked Brigit’s small, spotted head and smiled.

            “We be safe for now, little one.”

            Brigit smiled and flicked her tail. She fell into a pouncing position.

            “You teach me to hunt, Ma?”

            Mother laughed and licked the small Ocelot’s head once more. “Brigit, we must keep—”

The wind changed and Ma lifted her nose to catch the scent. Brigit sniffed the air as well. It smelled of fear; sweat mingled with urine.

            She looked to her mother with anxious orange eyes. “Will you show me, Ma?”

            Mother didn’t answer right away. She shifted on her paws and glanced behind her, where the poachers chased them from. Brigit leapt on her mother’s paw and smiled wide.

            “Please?” she begged. Mother looked down at her daughter. Then she, too smiled, and licked her cub’s shoulder.

            “All right, little one. But then we need to keep moving, okay?”

            Brigit cheered and ran in a circle with excitement.

            That was the last time she saw her mother smile.

 

Bird’s beaks tugged at Brigit, pulling out tufts of her fur and tearing her away from her nightmare. The young cub jolted awake, leapt to her paws and turned her attention to the two birds squawking in fright. They flapped their wings madly and bolted to the air, landing on a nearby branch the young cub could not reach. Brigit’s orange eyes glared at the two gasping birds before flicking her tail and turning to lick the patch of her exposed skin.

“She ain’t dead, Mam,” squawked one of the birds above her. He looked to his mother with Halloween eyes and she, in response, ruffled her feathers in annoyance.

“Of course she ain’t, Jeffery. I warned you that we should keep to the city. All the food in the trash is dead there!” She flapped her wings and shook her head. Jeffery, the male black bird, looked at her with confusion.

“But Mam, that’s not why—”

“Quiet boy, we might as well introduce ourselves to Dinner there.”

“Mam, she ain’t dinner—” Jeffery tried again before being interrupted by his mother.

“Quiet, Jeffery. If you had any eyes at all, you’d see she ain’t going to live long.”

The two birds turned their eyes to the young cub, who looked defiantly up at them. She was quite small with deep orange fur and black spots over her body. White coated her underbelly and circled spots on her fur. Over her left eye was a nasty gash and dried blood flaked off it whenever she blinked. Her muzzle was in a similar state: blood coated the small pink triangle of skin. Despite this, the Ocelot cub ruffled her spotted fur and stood her ground.

“I ain’t be dying,” she snapped in protest, “I be just fine.”

“Then why are you squinting at us like that?” Mam crowed with a frown on her beak—or as close as a bird could get to a frown. She pointed with her primary feathers at the young cub and tilted her head. “You ain’t going to last long if you can’t see right, Dinner.”

“I ain’t going to die! And I can—” Brigit’s ears pricked and the young cub turned her head towards a noise. The massive leaves of ferns spread out and concealed whatever was coming from view.

“Are the poachers returning?” Jeffery cawed, looking over his feathered shoulder towards the sound. His mother shook her head.

“It’s those ‘care-givers.’ Looks like they’re looking for Dinner.” She looked to her boy. “I haven’t flown all this way just to get our meal taken from us. C’mon, let’s get Dinner out of here.” She jumped off the branch and swung low, grabbing the cub’s whiskers with her talons. “Come now, little Dinner! We don’t want you taken by that wicked woman!”

Brigit jerked away, frowning. “Poachers? They be back?”

“No, Dinner,” Jeffery’s Mam answered, “something worse. We can talk later, but first we all need to leave.”

“Mam, she’s getting close! I think she spotted me!” Jeffery swooped down from the branch, his eyes wild and frantic. “We can’t let her have Dinner.”

“Fly ahead, Jeffery! Lead the way! I’ll be sure Dinner doesn’t get taken.” Jeffery nodded and darted ahead and the female black bird grabbed a claw-full of the cub’s fur and started pulling. “If you value your freedom, little Dinner, then you must come with us.”

“But you want to be eating me!” she cried, digging her heels into the ground. “That ain’t no freedom!”

The rustling became louder and the bird let go and fled through the trees, leaving the cub alone. She watched the bird fly away then stuck out her tongue.

Good riddance, she thought as she leapt into the bushes and kept low to the ground. A woman stepped through the thick growth then. She was tall with brown hair and a streak of purple through it. She knelt to the forest floor and put her hand gently on the dirt where the young cub was a moment before.

“She was here!” she shouted over her shoulder. Two men laden with equipment and backpacks stepped through the thick, green growth to join her. They grunted under the weight of their packs and nodded to her as she stood.

“The little Ocelot,” she said as she looked around, her eyes landing on the bush the cub hid in. The woman inched forward and gestured for the others to be quiet. The cub’s eyes widened. Who was this woman? Why did the birds insist she run? Would this woman harm her, or was she here to help? Brigit shivered and lowered her ears. Her muscles tensed and she heard her mother’s voice in her head.

Regret stung her where her bravery might have been.

“Run, Brigit!” Ma cried. “You must run!”

            Ma’s eyes were frantic.

            “Brigit! Run! Get out of here!”

            She hadn’t run when her mother told her to. She had nearly died because of it and lost the full use of her left eye. But this time, she would listen to her mother’s voice. Brigit got to her paws, whipped around, and ran. The woman’s hand shot through the bush just then, brushing Brigit’s tail. She cursed loudly and forced her way through the branches after the Ocelot.

“That’s her!” she howled. Brigit looked over her shoulder, but with her bad eye, she couldn’t see the woman all that well. The woman’s eyes, however—well, they shined so brilliantly that Brigit could make them out. Violet. The woman’s eyes were a violent violet.

Brigit turned back around only to ram her nose into the trunk of a tree. She staggered back.

“Her eyes aren’t working right! Damn those poachers—what did they do to her?” The woman got to her feet and started slowly inching towards Brigit, her hands outstretched towards her. “Now, just be calm, little Coward,” the woman whispered, her eyes locked on Brigit’s orange pair. Brigit backed up against the trunk of the tree. What would her mother do? The woman stepped closer. “Just stay there.” Brigit turned around, jumped onto the trunk of the tree and dug her claws in for a hold. She started furiously climbing, but her small arms were weak. Besides, she never climbed a tree before in her life. She did her best though, digging her tiny claws into the bark and slowly making her way up the tree. But that violet-eyed woman, well, she was quite tall and simply plucked Brigit from the tree.

Brigit swung her claws around, catching the woman across the bridge of her nose when she brought Bright too close to her face. The woman’s eyes flashed and she cursed the cub.

Then talons and feathers and beaks fell from the sky, ripping and tearing at the woman’s face. Brigit fell heavily to the ground. She scrambled to her feet to look up at the two black birds scratching Violet’s skin.

“Go!” Jeffery cried. “Get out of here!”

Brigit stiffened.

Run, Brigit! she heard her mother say. Run!

So she did. She turned and she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her.

And she forced down tears when she didn’t feel her mother running beside her.

 

The Ocelot cub came to a stop at a river, gasping for breath. The river served as the line between her mother’s land and the land of someone Brigit did not know. Mother always warned never to cross that border, no matter the circumstance.

Brigit hesitated at the bank.

“Come along, little Coward!” Violet shouted from somewhere behind Brigit. “Nothing to be afraid of! I’m here to help!”

Brigit frowned. Was she?

Jeffery and his mother dove into view above the young Ocelot. They spotted her and swung low in front of her face.

“What are you doing?” Mam snapped. “Get into the water!”

“Well, I—I ain’t be swimming well,” Brigit replied. “And me Ma say not to cross that there border.” She tucked her tail and glanced behind her. Maybe the birds were wrong about the woman. Maybe…

“The water will wash away your scent and make it hard for that woman to track you,” Jeffery explained. “We’ll be with you. You’ll be safe.”

“You just be wanting me to die!” Brigit protested, jerking her snout back to the bird.

The branches snapped not far behind.

“There’s only a few of us free animals left. The rest are dead or being hunted or stolen away and never seen again. We’ve got to help you, little cub,” Jeffery said as quickly as he could, his gaze cast into the trees behind Brigit.

“But you be saying—” Brigit started.

“What would your mother do?” Jeffery snapped.

Brigit leapt into the rushing river.

The water immediately engulfed her, pushing her under and spinning her around. Water clogged her throat and dove up into her nose. Brigit tried to cough it out, but each time her mouth opened more water would flow in. Then she was shoved to the surface and allowed to take one gasping breath before being pushed back under.

She did not know that this was to her advantage. For just as that Violet woman burst onto the river’s bank and looked around, Brigit was pulled under the water. Cursing loudly once again, Violet eyed small rocks that lead across the river.

“She’s headed to the city!” Violet jumped into the water which came up to her chest and waded across, the rocks being too small for her to travel over. The two men with her equipment broke through the trees, sweating profusely. They looked at the water and shifted uncomfortably under their heavy packs. Violet pulled herself onto the other side and turned back to them, her hands on her hips.

“Then find another way across! I can’t wait for you!” She turned and disappeared into the trees.

Further down the river, the currents pushed Brigit back up for air. She kicked her legs and managed a few deep breaths before the water started to tug her back down. But two pairs of talons gripped her shoulders and steered her towards a small bank. The two black birds let go as soon as Brigit got her footing and the birds sat on the sandy shore, panting. Brigit pulled herself further onto the beach and collapsed onto her stomach.

“I be soaking,” she whined.

“At least you’re still free.” Jeffery answered.

“What did you be meaning by saying that no one be coming back?” Brigit asked, turning her orange eyes to him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I—well—”

“We’ve seen the compound many times,” his mother interjected. “That woman captures the animals and puts them on her land, away from the poachers.”

“That be sounding safe,” Brigit murmured as she stood to shake the water out of her coat.

“It—gah, stop that!” Mam and Jeffery put their wings up to protect themselves from the bombardment of water as Brigit shook herself out. Ruffled and annoyed, Mam continued with a distasteful look.

“It isn’t safe. After some time, she sells the animals to the highest bidders.”

“I don’t think she’d sell you though, seeing as you’re the—oof!” Jeffery grunted and rubbed his wing where his mother pecked him. With a satisfied glare, she looked back to Brigit.

“We don’t know what those people do with us once they’ve bought us. Maybe they release us out here again, where the poachers can get us. Maybe they kill us themselves.” She shrugged, “None of us intend to find out.”

“Us?” Brigit tilted her head. “Are there more of you?”

“Oh yes,” Jeffery said excitedly. “There’s even some exotic animals, like lions and polar bears! Though they don’t like it here as much, since it isn’t cold.” He tapped his beak thoughtfully with his feathers then, like his mother, he shrugged. “They were brought in for the compound but managed to escape. They’re on a different part of the island.”

“Are there more Ocelots?” Brigit couldn’t help but smile. “My brothers and sisters died when I was young. I haven’t talked to someone my age for a while.”

“And where is your mother, little Dinner?” Mam inquired, her gaze cold. “Shouldn’t she be watching out for her sole survivor?”

Brigit’s excitement died as she met the bird’s gaze.

Ma! Ma, get out of there!

“And how did you get those wounds?” Jeffery pointed with his wing at her nose and eye. Brigit tucked her tail and looked away.

Come here, little Ocelot.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she muttered.

Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. We just want to play.

“Are you—”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she snapped, looking at the two birds with tears in her eyes.

Brigit lay in the hot sun, sniffing up the blood coming from her nose. Her left eye was swollen shut and she stared blankly at the cage that still sat in front of her. The men hadn’t taken it with them when they left.

            “Ma.” she whispered into the dirt, sniffing again. “Ma, I be so sorry.”

            The calls of monkeys overhead carried through the tall trees, leaves falling to the ground by Brigit. One monkey fell to the ground in front of her, his black face contrasting against the green trees and bright sun. Brigit shifted her staring to him.

            “You be helping me?” she murmured. She couldn’t smell his fear-scent, though it was strong in the air. She also couldn’t smell his anger; her nose was bleeding too badly. All she could see was his grinning face and his tight fists. Maybe that was good. Maybe he would take her somewhere safe, like back to the den. And maybe Ma would be there, too.

            The Howler Monkey smiled. Other Howlers dropped to the ground in a circle around Brigit. She shivered. Ma brought back these monkeys dead whenever she went hunting. Ma had been teaching Brigit to hunt with this prey in mind. Ma said they weren’t that strong, but that Brigit would need to settle for less dangerous prey. Howlers had been known to kill their predator’s young.

Now these monkeys beat their chests and picked up rocks. They held a glint in their eyes that was very unlike prey. Brigit swallowed hard and spat the words her mother had taught her:

            “I be the biggest of the smallest! I be demanding that you be respecting me!” Her voice faltered. She sneezed and pain burned through every nerve in her nose. The Howler Monkeys laughed. A trickle of fear ran down her spine, and undoubtedly the scent burned the air.

            “You’re only the future murderer of our young.” said the black-faced Howler. He picked up a rock. He raised it above his head. “And you’re going to die.”

Brigit looked away from the two black birds, feeling the reminiscent sting of her left eye’s scar. They had beaten her, but she was already quite injured from the poachers’ hands. Brigit had fallen still after they cut the long gash over her eye, and the monkeys left her to die. Yet she had managed to survive.

Brigit closed her eyes for a moment to clear her head and Jeffery hopped closer. He put his wing on her nose with a compassionate smile.

“Listen little one, we ask so that we can better take care of you. The others are further away. It’s a long journey and if we are going to make it, then we need to know your strengths and weaknesses.”

“So you can be eating me,” Brigit mewed.

“No, no, I thought we talked about that. Mam was only saying that so you thought we were going to eat you. She was just trying the hide the fact that you’re the last of your kind.”

“Jeffery!” Mam spat, eyes wide. She shuffled forward and pushed him away. “Ignore what he said.”

“I be…what?” Brigit recoiled and looked at them. “I be what!?”

“Look, little Dinner—” Mam started.

“My name is Brigit,” Brigit snapped, “I be the biggest of the smallest and I be the sole survivor of my litter. I be an Ocelot and I demand to know what you ain’t telling me!”

“Look what you’ve done,” Mam grumbled, shooting a look at Jeffery. “You and your big beak.” Jeffery smiled sheepishly and turned to Brigit.

“Right, Brigit, you see, there’s so little of us free animals left. And, well, we were looking for your mother. You can imagine our dismay when we only found you.” Mam shot him another look. “Not that you’re not great, it’s just that if you die…” he added, before trailing off.

“Then your whole race disappears from the map.” Mam finished, crossing her wings. “Look, little—Brigit. If you get caught by Violet, who knows what she’ll do to you. She could keep you locked up for the rest of your life! She could keep you from the freedom all animals deserve. She could stuff you and put you on display!”

“But I ain’t going to die. I’ll be safe.” Brigit replied. “She could be keeping me alive.”

“No, wait, Brigit,” Jeffery said hurriedly, “you don’t understand—you’re young—you can’t go with her. She’s an evil, evil woman. You won’t ever see this forest again.” He spread his wings around. “You can’t go with her.” he repeated one last time.

“Why can’t I?” Brigit growled, her moist fur standing on end. “If I be going with her, my race be living on a while longer.”

“And if she kills you and sells your pelt? What then?” Mam cawed.

“I won’t let her.” Brigit boasted.

Mam laughed, “What, are you going to negotiate with her? Humans can’t understand us, Din—Brigit. She’ll do what she wants no matter what you say.”

“Then I won’t be talking to her. She’ll just be prey and I be the hunter.”

“I’ll what?”

A cold finger caressed Brigit’s spine and she turned her gaze upwards, where the woman stood with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. Several red scratch marks laced her face and she looked viciously at the two black birds. Jeffery and Mam squawked and took to the air above the water.

“Brigit, come on! You must jump into the river again!” Jeffery shouted. “You cannot go with her. The other animals can keep you safe! We can keep you safe!”

Brigit ignored him.

“Brigit, you’re the last of your kind, you fool! Think of your race!” Mam insisted.

Brigit scoffed, “I am.”

Violet smiled. “Finally, a sensible little beast.” She looked over at the birds again and touched her scratches. She narrowed her eyes. Jeffery screeched in fear, batting his wings to get that much further from her.

“You can understand us?” Brigit’s ears poised forward. Violet laughed a cruel and spine-chilling laugh and looked back at her.

“Yes, of course, Brigit.” Violet knelt down and reached out. She brushed Brigit’s nose with a saddened gaze. “You know, little Coward, I have medicine at my home. I could fix you up. Make you a true hunter. Like your mother.”

Brigit’s ears twitched and an image of her mother, flashed before her mind: tall and proud, her spotted tail struck upwards and a firm gaze set in her eyes. Violet pulled back and for an instant, Brigit saw her mother in this woman. The hard jaw and thoughtful eyes, with determination keeping her smile upright. Stern but loving. Brigit’s mother kept her safe for as long as she could remember.

“Let’s go now, little Coward. We wouldn’t want to let your wounds grow worse.”

Brigit’s tail flicked and she nodded. “For my race.”

Violet offered her hand.

“Indeed.”

(Chapter 2 to be released on Thursday)