Master bends down without a word, one knee sinking into the wet grass as he leans forward and studies the ground where I’d just been frantically sniffing. His fingers brush aside a clump of soaked leaves, then trace a faint line in the mud with the tip of one finger. I stay glued to his leg, head pressed hard against his thigh, tail still coiled around his ankle watching him with wide humiliated blue eyes.

  He finds it. The trail. I can see the exact moment he picks it up again, the tiny shift in his shoulders, the way his head tilts just slightly. My ears flatten completely against my skull and my tail gives one vicious lash against his leg before curling even tighter around him in pure mortified defeat.

  Master straightens slowly, glancing down at me with that calm, unreadable face, the corner of his mouth twitching the tiniest bit. “Somehow an Alderian is a better tracker than a cat girl.” The words hit me instantly.

  My whole body stiffens. A low, embarrassed growl rumbles in my chest, half whine, half hiss, vibrating against his leg.

  “Master…” I whine. “That’s not fair. You cheated. You said good kitten and everything went fuzzy and warm and now I can’t smell anything but stupid rain and you and it’s your fault I lost it and, and, and you’re not allowed to be better at this than me. I’m supposed to be the hunter. I’m supposed to bring you things. You’re supposed to just… just pet me and tell me I’m perfect.”

  I nuzzle harder, practically climbing his leg now as he starts walking again, slow and steady, following the trail deeper into the trees. I stay glued to his side, half crawling, half walking on all fours, shoulder jammed against his hip, face pressed to his thigh the entire way. Every few steps I give a little frustrated huff against his leg.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  We push inward for maybe twenty minutes. The trail gets thinner, the rain heavier in patches. Even Master slows. He stops once, crouches again, fingers brushing the ground… and the scent goes cold. He loses it.

  I feel a tiny, smug little spike of satisfaction until I remember I lost it first because of his praise and the embarrassment comes crashing back twice as hard. My tail droops. My ears stay flat.

  But then after a long moment of him just standing there quietly scanning the grass, he crouches again, head tilted, fingers parting the wet leaves once more. He finds it. The trail picks back up, faint, but there.

  I immediately surge forward and shove my head under his hand, rubbing my wet cheek against his palm with a desperate, needy little purr. “Master found it again…” I murmur. “Of course you did. You’re better at everything. Even when your silly kitten messes up and loses everything because you told her she’s good…”

  I nuzzle harder into his palm, fangs grazing his skin in tiny nips. “Keep going,” I whisper against his hand. “I’ll stay right here. I’ll follow you forever. Just… maybe tell me I’m good again when we catch them? Please?”

  We continued deeper into the forest then Master slowed. I lifted my head just enough to follow his gaze, ears perking forward and then we found them. A small family of foxes.

  They were completely at peace. The mother occasionally licked one of the young with slow tender strokes of her tongue, her movements lazy and loving. The father blinked slowly, ears relaxed, occasionally shifting just enough to let one of the waking young climb over his back. No tension. No fear. Just a quiet, ordinary family moment in the heart of the woods.

  I stayed perfectly still, crouched low against Master’s leg, my tail slowly uncurling only to wrap twice around his wrist instead. My claws flexed lightly into the grass but I didn’t move. My hunter instincts flared hot for half a heartbeat… then softened, melting into something quieter.

  My voice came out as a soft whisper “…They’re so peaceful, Master.”