Turtle Fall of Fall

[Fall of Fall]

Turtle

“Life goes on. If we walk life hoping that no one notices our insecurities and fears, we will always be afraid that someone might find out.” There was once a cat, white as broken eggshells and hot blue fire eyes that loved to roll crunchy leaves. Crunchy leaves and warm forgotten fires lit with pale fingers, burning out slowly until it invites soft cold. The cat didn’t have a name, no, it didn’t have one. It was alone, but it liked it that way. Fall was its favorite season, November its favorite month, 11 it’s favorite number.

The cat met an owl, an owl with beautiful purple eyes and black feathers, black as dark oceans. When the cat asked its name, the owl simply said that its favorite color was gray. So the cat decided to call it Gray. Gray was ecstatic to have a name, something to call itself. Gray and the cat stay together and catch mice bugs. They laid in cold moonlight akin to being submerged in cool crystal pools. The cat and Gray often take strolls near the apple creek, soft wet soil to bury claws in. One day, they come across an amazing creature, and the cat was mesmerized. It had a hard shell and soft underbelly, and its neck could shrink into its body along with all its limbs. The cat asked Gray what it was, and Gray said it was a “turtle.” A wondrous thing, truely. The cat loved the name of it, everything about it. Turtles were the cat’s favorite creature, brown and green and pale gray. Gray knew the names of all sorts of plants and animals the cat lacked knowledge of, sharing information about nettles and red clovers. One day, the cat and Gray were enjoying their stroll

when they came across a clearing. Upon seeing the clearing, along with it came a sap-tinted air. Inside a small bush lay a small rabbit the color of light rain clouds, eyes a dark royal blue. Along the rows of trees there stood three more creatures, speaking amongst themselves. There was a red fox with bright magenta eyes only the setting sky could rival. Its sleek fire kin fur was smooth and beautiful with sprouts of summer cloud fur coming up to the muzzle from its underbelly. A snake scales yellow like the sun and fall leaves. Their honey eyes nearly glowed in golden light as they wrapped themself around the fox’s shoulders, relaxed. The underbelly slick and pale, shining scales radiating in the leaf-filtered light. With them, a raccoon that had bright green eyes and black striped fur. She sat eating an apple, slowly chewing as if to savor the rose tinted fruit. She looked so wistfully into the distance, her gaze never quite seeing. The cat was curious, and could imagine Gray was as well, their gaze swiftly crossing each creature. They approached them, greeting each of them in a kind fashion. The rest of them do the same, introducing themselves to the cat and Gray. The fox was Seapea, the snake insisted on being called Janus and not their name, and raccoon was named Nico. When they had asked for the cat’s name, the cat said it didn’t have one. The cat eventually went to see the rabbit, slowly walking over to the small thistle bush. Once she had awoken, she was shockingly calm to have woken up to a feline. Her large royal blue eyes stared down the cat, asking of its name, to which it stated it did not have a name. The rabbit claimed to not want to reveal her name, and that was okay. When the cat brought her over to meet the others, she introduced herself as Logan. A fitting name for a thing with such eyes, a different shade of the cat’s yet the same color. They were but ice and ocean, together a bond like none other. They would stroll together now, nesting within the same grand oak. With Gray and Janus in branches and the rest in

warm pockets of roots. They would stroll together, speak stories and wistfully sleep away the bitter cold. Together they had made the season of fall and all the beautiful things that came with it. Yellow fall leaves, dark blue night skies, deep purple twilights, stubborn green shrubs, dying sunsets, and a bright near winter sky. The cat became close with Seapea, having long philosophical talks as they gazed out at the dense forest trees. Nico became a close partner with the cat as well, the two often hunting together. Janus and the cat rarely spoke but got along, trusting each other. One spring night, as they had all gotten settled in their now single nest, Janus had revealed their name as Kai. It was a big deal for the group of its entirety, as names were a sign of trust. However, most of the cat’s time was spent with Logan. The two would sometimes swim in the shallow part of the creek and find interesting rocks of all sorts. Oh, how Logan loved rocks. She would be down in the banks for hours searching for just the right one, the cat often to the side admiring the turtles. Seasons passed until fall had returned, the dear familiarity of fall. Leaves crunch and bark hardens, fruit falling violently now. Fall was the cat’s favorite season, after all, November its favorite month, 11 its favorite number. The group was on a stroll, a pleasant one of course. Long had passed since they all met, bones growing heavy on a select few. They walked together upon the apple creek trail, Kai resting on Seapea’s shoulders. All was well, all was okay. Until the cat heard Logan’s scream. Logan had been grabbed by hot gloved fingers, shaken wildly. Panic rose in the cat’s throat as another hand went to grab Seapea, the fox quick to bite. Before the cat could see it happen, Gray had been caged along with Nico. Seapea bit the tall featureless creature that held Logan, causing it to drop Logan to the ground. Kai was stepped on so violently, such a quick jarring death. The cat heard Seapea yell at it to run and to not stop, so it did. Grabbing Logan by the scruff, the cat ran. The cat ran until their mighty oak with soft warm roots

was far away, lost among orange and yellow. It ran until it couldn’t hear Seapea and Gray’s cries to run and do not stop. Finally, the cat stopped suddenly and collapsed. Logan was released from its grip and they cried together. They cried until the full moon was high in the sky, much too proud. The cat secretly envied the sky, hating it as even in sorrow it stood happy. At least the sun had the nerve to not hide within thousands of stars like a scared kit. When they had stopped, the cat noticed something wrong. Logan had been breathing oddly since they had stopped. The cat took a good look at Logan until she told it that the creature had shaken her so hard her bones broke. They broke in such a fashion that the bones were slowly killing her. A wail broke out from the cat. The cat couldn’t lose another; Logan was all it had left. Logan was the yellow in fall leaves that lit up the trees, the rose tinted apples Nico had loved so much. Her fur was the light fall clouds to its own birch bark fur, its everything.

As the cat watched Logan die, the rabbit spoke slowly, “Let’s introduce ourselves, shall we love?” The cat let out a pitiful sob, the rabbit softly sighing before speaking again. “Hi, my name is…,” she paused, “...my name is Shayla.” The cat’s eyes widened as it realized what she was doing. It smiled softly before speaking, its voice jagged with sorrow. “Hello, Shayla. My name is…” The cat paused, it didn’t have a name. “Turtle,” Shayla whispered, “I always thought your name should be Turtle.” She gave a weak smile. “Turtle.” they said. “My name is Turtle.” They sobbed as Shayla took her last breath. Turtle later took Shayla by the scruff and gently set her near the water upon a large smooth rock. Shayla always liked rocks. Turtle mourned for the rest of their lost friends, eventually falling asleep on the rocks.

There was once a cat, white as broken eggshells and cold winter eyes that hated the feeling of crunchy leaves. Crunchy