The Valley of Cataria

This is my first attempt to write a fantasy story. Here are the prologue and first chapter as I am working on the second. This is just a first draft treatment and I would love it if the steemit fam would give me suggestions, critiques or just let me know what you think.

"Cats as you know, do not falter and always land upright. To land any other way is a disgrace and a dishonor."

Prologue - The Dawn of Cats

Pilot keeps searching for sustenance while all around him is a potential source of more than he could ever hope for. Yet all he sees from his perch is a parched savanna; the idea of partaking in shallow luxuries is beyond his desire. He is a cat slowly starving in the midst of plenty.

The tribe he is with wanders across the bare, flat countryside foraging. Eight of them are irregularly strung out on the open plain. The ground is flat for many miles around. Suddenly, Pilot becomes aware of something stalking them just a few yards away. Defenceless and with nowhere to hide, the tribe scatters in all directions, leaving him to fend for himself.

Back in his cave, he stirs when shrieks and screams echo up the slope of the lower valley, and he does not need to hear anything to know what is happening. Down there in the darkness, other cats are suffering and surrounded by vicious beasts, and the thought that he might help in some way crosses Pilot's mind. Yet the harsh logic of survival rules out such fancies. Every cave must be kept silent, lest it attracts disaster.

The dogs it seems are growing desperate, however; the forage on their side of the valley is almost exhausted. Perhaps they realize that Pilot's tribe has lost three more of its numbers during the night, for the dogs chose this morning to break the truce. When they meet at the river in the still, misty dawn, there is a deeper and more menacing note in their challenge. The noisy but usually harmless confrontation lasts only a few seconds before the invasion begins. In an uncertainly-moving horde, the dogs cross the river growling out threats. Their teeth are showing and saliva is dripping as they hunch for the attack. They are led by a long-toothed dog of Pilot's own size and age named Trenchcoat.

Startled and frightened, Pilot's tribe retreats before the first advance, throwing nothing more substantial than imprecations at the invaders. Pilot moves with them, his mind is enveloped in a mist of rage and confusion. For cats to be driven from their own territory is a great badness, but to lose the river is death for them. Pilot does not know what to do; it is a situation beyond his experience.

Pilot becomes dimly aware that the dogs are slowing down, and advancing with obvious reluctance. The further they move from their own side, the more uncertain and unhappy they become. Only Trenchcoat still retains any of his original drive, and he is rapidly being separated from his pack. As he sees this, Pilot's own morale immediately revives. He slows down his retreat and begins to make reassuring noises to his companions. Novel sensations fill his mind – the faint precursors of bravery and leadership.

Before he realizes it, the two tribes come to a halt many paces away. This disorganized and unscientific conflict could have ended quickly if either had used their claws as weapons, but that sort of battle lay a hundred years in the past. Instead, the slowly weakening fighters dig, bite and scratch at each other with modern-day implements.

The battle is now over and Pilot reigns victorious. Or so he thought as what he is left with is a completely depleted tribe that did not stand strong together in the face of threat. There is no fight left in them if ever there was any, to begin with. In a vast wilderness with little means to progress, he retreats to the solitude of his cave taking with him the spoils of battles won in the past and begins to assemble them alone to keep the badly battered dream alive. Resigned to his struggle, he churns and burns between what he wants to do to live and what he must now do to survive.

Chapter One - The Arrival

Over the Valley, a full moon rises, and a cold wind blows down from the distant mountains. This morning, Pilot crawls out of the cave, clambers on to a large boulder besides the entrance, and squats where he can survey the valley. If any beast approached, he would have time to get back to the relative safety of the cave.

At night his interest turns to the Moon, and remembers back to a time long ago when Pilot would reach out and try to touch its face. Older and wiser now, he knows he would have to find a tree that was high enough. There is a lonely silence that comes to the cave at night. A silence so deafening that he cannot sleep. Spells of fitful dozing and productive waves of assembling, he is searching his soul while he builds some abstract dream for an unknown future that seems so difficult and so far away.

A new day dawns and it is beautiful, warm and sunkissed. Pilot is startled by a sound. Never in his life has he heard a sound like this. A call of the wild. The call was so driven and passionate. The calls were returned and together, they became a wonderful song that echoed back and forth filling the vast emptiness of the Valley with pure truth and hope.

Maybe it was just because she paid close attention to him, appreciated his craft, and shared his philosophies on life in general. Pilot was instantly enamoured. Minerva was brave, extremely intelligent, courteous, giving and polite. A truly genuine cat. The commonalities of life experiences they shared with each other were uncanny. They talked of something that they have each carried within them for many years before they had ever met. It was an indescribeable anxiety most likely caused remnants of trauma in each of their younger years. They seemed bonded and called out to one other daily. They respected each other as equals. They shared their most precious memories, good and bad. And in such a short period of time.

Minerva was a shining star in view that felt to Pilot like he was flying towards a bright sun being helped by the pull of its intense gravity. He wanted to orbit there. To plan a great future for everyone involved, they were consumed with the idea of bringing together a powerful clowder of cats like no other. To rise up out of the cave and do great things. Pilot was so inspired to once again go out through the jungles and onto the plains. Night after night Pilot sat up in the fetid darkness of the cave, straining his senses out into the night, and joy slowly filled his soul. The two worked together morning through the night to plan a great first hunt and assemble all the tools they would need for their journey.

Minerva and Pilot shared the same penchant for quality Cataria. A short-lived perennial, herbaceous plant that helped them both to sooth their internal angst. And it flourished in the Cataria Valley where they each lived across from one another. They had been learning what they could about this plant on their own for many years. What makes one variety different from the other, medicinal benefits; how it calms and relieves. And Minerva always had a keen instinct for where the best of it could be found. It was the search for Cataria that is what brought them to this valley and ultimately together in the first place.

The adventure ensued on a perfect day as the two traveled to the desert region to hunt together. They would arrive first just moments apart to later be joined by the others whom Pilot had yet to meet. The first day in the desert was greatly successful, seeing incredible things and beautiful creatures. It was a land of plenty and they knew that their vision had now expanded beyond their wildest imaginations.

On the second eve, three great cats approached with Minerva in silence. It seemed that they were making no attempt at concealment as they moved towards Pilot. Most cats approach in stealth and are very guarded but not these cats. They were immediately friendly and accepting of Pilot as if they had known one another for many years. This was Minerva's crew and it was obvious that she was bringing him into their clowder.

There was Bella, Minerva's life partner. A stunning cat with a contagious smile and very warm, unassuming demeanor. It was no surprise to Pilot that she was with Minerva. Bella was everything Minerva had described to him. And so much more. Bella embraced Pilot the first moment she met him and his heart glowed knowing that Minerva was paired with this most precious, graceful and loving cat.

Composed and poised, Aurora comes into view. Her coat and her eyes could illuminate the heavens on even the darkest of nights. She sat next to Pilot and they talked. She was gentle, caring and contained a warmth about her that made him feel unguarded. Her creativity flowed through like the sweet fragrance of a spring rain as she told her story. "How can this be?" Pilot thought to himself. After so many years in the wild, he had never experienced such immediate comfort when in the presence of another cat so new to him.

Empress takes her place in the circle. Although Minerva had spoken in detail about her, Pilot just had to see for himself. A natural born leader in every way just as had been described. Strong, bold, decisive and yet flexible and intuitive. She was a master hunter. As they walked together to the place where they were all to feast, Empress began to take him on a journey in their minds and back to a place he once knew. As they ate, they talked about how myopic and shallow the grounds were in the familiar fields that they had both once hunted. They talked about the threat of the dogs. She expressed a strong desire to find a better place to be where we would all be happy. Pilot knew right then for certain that Empress would be the one to help lead the tribe to the promised land.

As the five finished dinner together it became apparent that the skills and knowledge each had obtained throughout their amazing lives were of a great compliment to one another. They felt as if they were right where they were meant to be. Brought together by some extraordinary force in the universe; the possibilities were limitless. They were all in agreement that they would go on grand journeys together and work on many great things for the betterment of catdom.

Pilot returned home to the cave with a sense of spark that could light a furnace so great they would never want or need again. Now the dream was no longer abstract. Now less difficult and realizing this dream seemed not so far away. It was perfect.

And then there came a sound which Pilot could not possibly have identified, for it had never been heard before in the history of this planet.

Chapter Two - (Forthcoming)

Afterwards, Pilot's greatest fear surfaced. Had something died here and was in now buried in the winter blizzard? Did a tribes dream die here? It was a beautiful dream. The tribes circle is now broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, the sacred tree seemed dead.

Love cannot be caged. Love breaks free. Love always finds a way.