The song for this chapter is "Can't Complain" by Relient K. 

Today we rejoin our our favorite wizard, feline, ex-prince, and nurse out in the middle of nowhere. A quick note about Andor: When Andor returned to tell the heroes about Amniosis, I'm pretty sure his bts person was watching Sparklez's stream, because Andor scolded Jordan for something he said in stream but not in game. XD I'm calling that part of whatever abilities he got from Ianite when she discorporated. Martha gained her goddesshood, Sparklez's arrows became way stronger, and—as I interpret it—Andor gained some degree of telepathy! :D

*Memento's POV*

I yawned and glanced down at the one zombie circling my tree. He had managed to pick up on the scent of my blood. I'd been busily cleaning my paws ever since Wag left, but I obviously hadn't been quick enough. I tucked my feet up under me to minimize the smell. Maybe the zombie was dumb enough to forget and leave. At least its not spiders, I thought as I settled my head on the rough bark in front of me. That's one thing I don't miss about the jungle, at least. I wrinkled my nose as the rotting pile of flesh walked directly under me. If this were a jungle tree, I'd be up high enough to not have to smell him. Seriously, what are these pathetic excuses for trees? They're barely tall enough to get me away from walkers. "Walkers" was my general term for those that only moved on the ground: zombies, skeletons, creepers, pigs, humans. Not dogs though; dogs had several, less innocent names to choose from.

Being treed was nothing new to me. I'd lived in the trees since I was old enough to climb, and that was where I stayed except for the rare occasions when I wanted to sunbathe. The best places for that were in the clearings. Look where that got me. Hahaha. I guess I can't complain. I have magic now, and I'm pretty sure my mind is...expanded? I certainly think more deeply than I did as a plain ole ocelot.

I had started to doze when the zombie made a particularly loud groan. It had probably spotted me in the shadowed branches. Congratulations! You found me! Now would you just shut up?! I snarled. Then I heard more footsteps approaching, though these were more nimble and quiet. It occurred to me that it might be Wag's friend, and I opened my eyes. Before I could look around, I was sent scrambling for a hold on my tree branch. A blast of wind sent the zombie flying into the underbrush before leaving as suddenly as it came. I held back an undignified whimper as I retracted my claws from the rough bark I had clung to. Fresh pain shot through my paws as I stood there shaking. I folded my ears tightly back against my head and tucked my bleeding feet back under me to relieve the pressure.

I was so focused on my renewed pain that I didn't notice the second set of footsteps had stopped under my hiding place. "Memento?" someone asked softly.

"Brrmloo?" I shot my head up and looked down to see a young man watching me. "Mrah-raa," I said in return, politely pointing my ears toward him. That must be Andor. I tapped into Wag's magic to drop a dim mage light at the base of the tree where my human's bag was hidden. If he didn't get the meaning of my meow, that should confirm who I was.

Andor grinned, realizing he'd found the right cat—as if there would be another one insane enough to be out on a blood moon. He picked up Wag's backpack and swung it over his shoulders. He studied me. Frowning, he tilted his head to one side. "Now how are we going to work this?" I realized he must be wondering how to get me down. Wag, being able to fly, hadn't thought about it being a problem that I was on a branch fifteen feet up. Andor probably had not expected me to be quite this big either, to be fair.

I eyed the ground from my perch, wishing my wizard had not been so thoughtful. I doubted Andor could scale a tree in the first place, let alone climb back down while trying to hold me. After a moment's consideration, I knew there were only two realistic ways for me to reach the ground. I could jump down, or I could try to climb down. I tried to flex one of my bleeding paws as I weighed my options, and stabbing pain shot up the limb. I flinched my ears even tighter against my skull than they had been earlier, and I tucked my head down into my ruff. Yeah, no. I think I'll stay here and take my chances with the mobs.

"I'm sorry, Memento, but if you're that sore, you need to come down."

I froze. Did he just hear me?

"Your friend's not the only one with powers," Andor said mildly, much to my bewilderment. I spared a sideways glance at Andor to see him watching me. We stared at each other for a few minutes, each stubbornly waiting for the other to cave. He didn't realize how patient I could be after years of stalking prey.

He sighed and reached into a back pocket of his pants. He held a gold ring in his hand when he brought it out. He eyed the angel ring as if it might bite him before sliding it onto a finger. White, feathered wings sprouted from his back; they almost seemed to glow in the red moonlight. He stretched and tested them with an expression somewhere between discomfort and irritation. Then again, I've only been around humans for a few days now. So what do I know about their facial expressions?

The wind shifted as he concentrated on his wings, and I was finally able to catch the scent of this mortal that could somehow hear my thoughts. His scent was vaguely similar to that of Sparklez, but there was a hint of something else that made me think he wasn't entirely human. I examined him a little more closely, perking my ears and whiskers forward in curiosity. The young adult reminded me of a restless yearling ocelot who'd just left his family and had yet to establish a territory of his own, though his bearing lacked the foolish arrogance of that age. He radiated the wary confidence of a veteran hunter who's discovered that not all creatures that look like prey were helpless.

For a human just out of kittenhood, he sure seemed to have had his share of scraps too. His hide was littered in scars. Many I recognized as defensive wounds, but an equal number of them had clearly been taken head on. These were the more recent injuries. My estimation of him immediately improved, seeing that he'd survived what I assessed to be multiple such encounters. I could appreciate someone who could hold their ground; I had a few scars of my own hidden beneath my luxurious fur.

Remembering that Wag had interacted with Andor on prior occasions, I sniffed through a few of those events in case I'd missed anything major. Dredging up Wag's purloined memories was more difficult than accessing my own, but I finally found one memory that stood out. Andor—a younger, less confident version—stood under an archway in a town. A vortex of wind swirled around him, keeping the other humans at bay. Those others were posturing and arguing about something they found important. I only focused on one word hovering in Wag's mind at the time: acolyte. So, he's an acolyte like Steve? I guess I know where that wind came from then.

I let the memory finish playing out as I knew it would. I'd seen headstrong yearlings challenge their elders often enough back home. The impertinent kitten was invariably chased off, soundly beaten. I'd only managed to win a proper territory for myself when I was two and a half years old. Sadly, I hadn't held my position long enough to reap the rewards.

My musing about lady ocelots was interrupted by Andor awkwardly flapping up to my branch. I couldn't help but compare his stilted flight to that of a fledgling tanager. I flicked one ear in amusement at the thought. He carefully picked me up under my chest, eliciting an unexpected cough from me.

Alright, Little Bird; let's go.

Andor chuckled at the nickname and fluttered back to the ground much like a sparrow would. He slipped his angel ring off as he walked. A minute into the journey I started purring to distract myself. Now most humans know about happy purring, but not many realized that there was a second type: painful purring. I supposed the human equivalent would be someone singing softly to themselves when they felt sick or down, and it generally made them feel a little better. Same concept.

A short time later we made it to a building that reeked of medicine. I shook my head and sneezed as Andor stepped inside and crossed to a back room. There was Wag, sound asleep on a cot. His shirt and robes were piled on the floor, and his back was coated in a layer of pungently scented paste.

"There's our other patient. My, you're a big one, aren't you?" A lady said as she stepped into the far doorway. She gave me a reassuring grin and motioned for us to follow her. We left Wag behind and walked down a short hallway to a small kitchen. Andor set me down gently on a towel spread on the table and helped Mary arrange her supplies next to me.

I flopped down on my side with an exaggerated huff, making my paws easily accessible. Let's get this over with, but if you try to give me a healing potion I will shred you, I warned them through Andor.

I kept up my purr, occasionally punctuated by a warning growl or hiss as Mary and Andor worked carefully to clean my paws of dirt and dried blood. I endured several minutes before retreating to Wag's side of our mental link. I had to distance myself enough from the pain to resist the growing urge to lash out at them. I knew they were just trying to help.

I amused myself watching my wizard's bizarre dream about a chicken named Kevin and his "fetuses" until I heard Andor say they were done. I returned to myself to find strips of cloth soaked in something strongly scented wrapped around each of my paws. I could see spots of my blood dotting the wraps. I resisted the urge to shake my feet free and looked around for Andor and Mary instead. Mary was sitting in a chair next to me to rest, her spell book before her on the table. She looked thoroughly worn out. Andor was clearing medical supplies from the area, returning them to the front of the shop. When he came back, he had a piece of smoked catfish from Wag's recent purchase in hand. He offered it to me, and I sniffed it. I couldn't even smell "fish" among the scents burning my nose, and I turned away from the morsel, uninterested. The lesson of poison had been deeply ingrained in my littermate and I when our third sibling died after sampling one of the colorful frogs outside our den. Hungry or no, I wasn't about to eat something that didn't smell like food, regardless of who offered it.

Andor must have caught my train of thought, because he withdrew the strip of dried meat and ate it himself. Mary seemed to have gathered some strength by this point, and began removing the wraps from my feet. There must have been some numbing agent in them, because I couldn't feel anything below my ankles and wrists when she did. After applying a bit of paste to my pads and admonishing me to not lick the stuff off she had Andor take me to the other room to rest. Andor settled me above Wag's head on his pillow and wished me goodnight. He turned off the overhead light as he left the room.

I sighed and curled myself around my wizard's head and shoulders, and I swept my tail to rest over top of his neck. I nestled my nose next to the mask he wore in hopes of benefiting from the oxygen where it leaked around the edges. I purred in contentment and drifted into a much needed sleep.

The sound of harsh coughing and the feeling of the bed shaking roused me some time later. I peeled back one eyelid to see Wag sitting up and hacking into a square of cloth. He'd taken the oxygen mask off and left it lying next to my face. I could feel how painful his throat was, and I almost coughed up a hairball in sympathy as I watched him. Andor walked in to offer him a cup of what I assumed to be tea, and I drifted back to sleep knowing my friend was in good hands.

Between fits of coughing, Wag woke me and tried to convince me to eat something. Andor had apparently told him I'd refused food the night before, and I was having none of it now. I'd gone hungry before when I was too injured or sick to hunt and took it in stride, but my wizard seemed inordinately worried by my lack of appetite. Finally, he asked Andor to take me outside a little ways from the building to see if I'd eat when I could actually smell my food. Wag couldn't risk being seen in public; plus he was still "coughing his lungs up." Andor complied and took me into the woods to keep me out of sight. My nose still felt dead, but I could pick up the faintest hint of fish when we were far enough out. I nibbled on enough to satisfy the Little Bird, and we went back indoors.

Mary had hung a curtain in the doorway leading from the exam/supply room to the storefront to keep prying eyes away, and I could hear many comings and goings throughout the afternoon. She closed up shop at sundown and came back to check on us. I only paid attention when she lifted my muzzle and pulled my lip back to look at my gum color. She smiled and told us we didn't need to be on oxygen anymore while she scratched my chin. We slept soundly through another night—well, I did. Wag had to shove me off of his face when I rolled over on top of his head in my sleep. (Imagine this picture but with a cat 3 times that size.)

Things were much the same our second day with Mary and Andor, though we had to endure washing the dried paste off of our wounds and having them dressed again. I was also subjected to the indignity of using a litter box when they wouldn't let me go outside like a civilized feline. They gave some excuse about not wanting me to get dirt or infection in my cuts again. The morning of our third day there Wag's cough had improved, but Mary didn't seem satisfied with what she heard upon listening to his chest. Wag nearly whimpered when she handed him a glass of cherry scented medicine to drink. A short time later, the poor wizard was coughing again. He was so exhausted by it that he fell asleep before dinner was ready. I took up my spot at his head and growled at Andor when he would have woken him up to eat. He wisely decided to let the sleeping wizard lie.

A familiar sound woke me in the middle of the night. I tensed and opened one eye as I swiveled my ears to pinpoint the sound. There it was again: the furtive scratch of tiny nails on wood. A rat was creeping across the floor next to the supply rack. As I watched, it rose on its hind legs to sniff the air. It was smaller than its jungle cousins, and it appeared to lack the bristly hairs that protected the larger tree rats I'd hunted. Easy prey. If it wasn't already running for cover, the stupid creature had never smelled a cat before. I slowly coiled my legs under me and opened my other eye. One pounce and a quick bite to back of the skull and neck ought to do it. Regardless of the fact I wasn't hungry right this moment, I fully intended to kill this rat. When hunting opportunities presented themselves, I took them. Historically, many of those attempts failed, and having a rodent or two tucked away against bad luck or a case of midnight munchies never hurt when I lived in the jungle.

The rat ignored me and started noisily eating at the corner of a box on the bottom shelf. My tail twitched once, and I pounced. I was so intent on my prey that I forgot my injuries...until I landed. My front feet hit the unforgiving wooden floor a mere inch from my target. The scab on a large cut on my left pad tore on impact. I yowled at the sudden pain. My cry was cut short when my chin hit the ground a split second later. The rat spun around so fast its tail smacked against my nose as it ran. Once it reached the safety of its hole in the wall, it turned to look at me. High pitched, squeaking laughter reached my flattened ears. Apparently the insolent rodent's mother had failed to warn her brood not to taunt predators. Well, I would have let you live, but...In a flash of red the rat disappeared to the Nether.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Andor said as he flipped on the lights. My scream must have woken him up. I grumbled and lashed my tail as he scooped me up. "Hurt anything besides your pride?"

What do you think? I raised my freshly bleeding paw for him to see. The amused grin left his face, and he sighed. He picked some supplies off the shelves and started heading for the kitchen with me in tow.

I mentally reached out to Wag to ask him to save me. I was surprised to find he was not awake. Actually, I couldn't reach his mind at all; it felt like it was insulated by a layer of magic that repelled me. Before I could start panicking, Andor said lightly, "Don't worry; Aunt Martha's talking to him." He glanced down at me with a raised eyebrow when I started growling.

The following fan art was made by ianinjite02 ! It is so cute! :D