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I was just thinking about Indigo.  Since she had me writing in her journal, I found myself reading just a little. It is kind of funny that after all that thinking about kissing "Wolfie" she actually gets a kiss but is asleep and doesn't remember it. I'm sure glad she came out of that magical sleep.

If only it was that easy for us to get out of this mess

On the other hand, we've been traveling at the boat's fastest speed for a long time. I finally had the boat slow down. I think we've reached the end of the area of light because there is almost a wall, it gets so dark if we veer off a little and I can see the wall ending in the difference. I took the boat over the edge and the light and fire energy that has been flowing into Amber cut off. Her fire almost went out. I think I can break her out of the almost trance she is in that way, but I don't feel like risking it just yet.

At least we are going to find the gate after all. Maybe we are not as lost as I thought. After all, the waste area is huge, but it does come to a narrow end.

...

It is some time later. I've spotted the gate. It is covered in demons. They all seem to be hibernating or something, I haven't taken us close enough to find out. I have the boat drifting a very good distance away. Things are quiet, but the demons aren't sleeping that quietly. I saw a voidshark pass by and it nudged one of them and the next thing I saw it was swarmed. I think they may be shadow vampires.

And the boat seems to be running out of energy. I never thought about that, but I'm not sure how much further it can travel, it is already only going half speed or less when I will it to go its fastest. For now I have it drifting, a few miles away from where the gate is. I've got to think about what to do.

Well, it was a little blustery and the neighbor across the alley wasn't doing well, so the little girl's mother sent her over with a loaf of fresh home made bread and some home made raspberry jam.

My mom is the greatest. Amber doesn't have a real "down home" relationship with her mom, if you've read her stories you can tell why, but my mom is just the best. She is filled with love and patience and is just really wonderful. Anyway, Amber kind of tells this part pretty plainly. It just doesn't catch the fresh smell of the bread, how sweet and sharp all at once the jam tastest that my mom makes with raspberries we get over in Washington near Spokane, and just how sharp and happy crisp, cool weather can make you feel.

Not to mention the alley is between us and the neighbor to the side, you would think from this story that somewhere in the back of our lot, through the trees and across the stream there is an alley that my mom had me crossing. I was really just walking next door, across what is kind of the driveway both houses share and an access way to the alley that runs behind the houses in that direction. Our house sits kind of at the end of things, so the lot is a lot larger, a bit of wildness hidden in the city. But we all have trash service and everything and the dump trucks run down the alleyway..

As she skipped out through the gate, a cat caught her eye, tormenting something.  She put the basket down carefully and went to see what it was.

We have a fence that runs along the alleyway. Board on board, with a gate that opens out to where the trash pick-up is and everything. To go next door the fastest way is to take the door next to the garage, out through the gate next to the dumpster and across the alley to the neighbor's garage door, then up and around to their front door.

The cat bristled at her as she came closer, it looked like a bright orange tabby.

That doesn't catch the real feel of it all. The cat was mean and nasty looking and really, really big. The size of a large bobcat or something..

She took the rope and flicked the cat across the hind quarters.  It jumped.

"Shoooo" she went and the cat hissed back.

The rope stiffened in her hand and the cat backed off.  "I'll be back for you" it hissed and sparks dripped off its fur.

"Scat!" she said and took a swing at it, as it ran away.

I didn't know what it was, but I wasn't going to let anything get away with tormenting some helpless creature. I almost dropped the rope when it talked though. That was a surprise!.

It had been tormenting a fledgling raptor.  Some sort of blue-white falcon, not come into its pin feathers.  It hissed at her when she offered it a hand, but climbed on the stiffened end of the rope.

That little thing just called out to my heart. I'm not sure how to describe it. Now, after years together and a transformation it is a Snow Griffin and it is impossible to think of it as helpless and needy and crying out heart to heart like a baby found in the snow. I really was overwhelmed by it.

The girl gathered it up and carried it home, taking it in to the back bathroom by the playroom.  She quickly gave it a can of cat food and ran to get a little blanket and some water.

At this point I didn't know what to do, but I could feel the poor thing dying as I held it. I've never felt so helpless, even now.

It wouldn't take the water, and hissed when she turned the heater on.  Perhaps it isn't adjusting quickly to being inside, she thought, and added a couple ice cubes to the water.  To her surprise, it ate the ice cubes, with each of them gaining strength.  So she brought a bowl of ice cubes and then ran off to deliver the bread before it got old as well as cold.

Surprise.  There in the alley were four fire brindle cats.  "See, now we'll see ..." the leader hissed.

"Indeed" was all the girl said as she took the rope and gathered its power.

I still did not know what to say to talking cats, especially four of them. Especially with that loaf of bread needing to be delivered. I know it is silly, but I couldn't help thinking "but they are cats!" to myself. Now I know better.

Now brindle cats are lesser creatures.  They can drop sparks from their fur, but they are only about 300 degrees hot -- enough to burn, but, if you wanted to bake a pie with one, you had better get one that is exceptional.  Most just can't generate real power.  

But they love to torment lesser things, especially birds.

As the snow swirled around the girl and the power reached out, their eyes got wide.  This wasn't what they had bargained for.  Their legs stiffened.  

Then she swung for the leader and it jumped back.  Suddenly they were all running.  "We just remembered an appointment, and it is about to rain" and then they were gone, looking for something much safer to pounce.

So she went home and discovered that what she had was an ice falcon.

And I had found my familiar.

Ice falcons are native to the realms of ice.  There they have their native forms, somewhat like a small wyrm or dragon, fitting the same place that raptors fit in our world and about the same size.  In our world they look and take the shape of the creature who is most like them, the falcon.

They make excellent friends, especially to those who favor cold, and can intensify magical skills and focus.  Heat repells them slightly, so the magical interaction gives them even more lift from thermals and they can sleep on the wing with their eyes open.

This one was lost and in need of a friend, and the girl had fed it icecubes when it was about to perish from thirst.

They were ready to be the fastest of friends.

Kind of like Amber and I, only I and my familiar have one nature, rather than being opposits in so many ways as Amber and I are. Even if Amber and I don't make it, I think once I am gone, it will be free to fly free.

I hate being stranded like this. I need to wake Amber up just to talk. When the food gets lower, I will. But I still have a lot of food and a good deal of writing left to do. At least I can leave this much behind.