He tried projecting movements to me as feelings. When I finally picked up on that, I was able to adjust my body according to what he needed. We played in the clearing, while learning to ride together. He swatted at the leaves, leapt over the fire, and did figure eights to make certain that we were at ease with the various movements he’d perform.
When he finally felt comfortable with carrying me upon his back, he crouched up to the fire. I found my body mimicking his, crouching closer to his pack. He let out a kitty snort and I knew he was laughing at me. I smiled as he rounded the fire, and with his back paws, buried it.
I let out a snort of my own at the feel of his back paws scraping the dirt, followed by a squeal of excitement as he tore off into the woods. I held onto the pack for dear life, realizing now what he meant by us needing to travel faster. There was no way anyone could compete with this speed.
I felt trees and bushes scrape against my legs as he sped through the woods. I tried to keep my body plastered against his without squeezing his sides as he leapt over boulders, bounded over streams, and dodged plants and other animals. He didn’t appear bothered in the slightest by the extra weight he was carrying on his back. He trusted me to follow his movements and I trusted him not to let me fall. As long as I didn’t think about what was happening, we worked very well together.
He ran for what felt like hours, leaping across obstacles, dodging the ones he couldn’t. I was just beginning to feel as though I couldn’t hold on much longer when he began to slow down. The sky was just turning pink and I could finally see where we were. I was surprised to see that the forest had given way to a rocky terrain.
Raif’s tongue flopped out of his mouth in a pant and he started walking. I slid off his back and started to search for another canteen in my pack. He let out a snort and growled at me in frustration, bumping his head against my butt, trying, I could only assume, to get me to continue on.
“Oh, stop it. You need to drink something and I need a break. We’re almost there anyway, aren’t we?” I opened my pack looking for the small pot he’d packed to cook with. He sat back on his haunches staring at me. I glanced up with my ‘aha!’ frozen on my lips and had to laugh. In front of me sat an enormous black leopard that was sitting patiently with a backpack on and his tongue hanging out, panting. His tail flicked as I poured water in the dish and gave it to him before the laughter got too bad.
I pulled out my camera as he drank and took his picture. He looked up at the flash and I took another one. He was beautiful. He tilted his head to the side in a puzzled expression. I’d forgotten to tell him about the camera. I thought about explaining it to him now, but simply shrugged—it was difficult to give explanations to a cat.
We walked side-by-side for another hour until we arrived at the bridge. I was expecting another large land bridge but instead found myself walking up to a rope bridge connecting our mountain to the next above a very deep gorge. I could see the water below, but it was just a small river from this altitude.
The bridge was ancient and didn’t look as if it could hold a feather, let alone our combined weight. A breeze blew and the whole bridge swayed with it. I felt sick just looking at it.
“No. There’s no freaking way I’m getting on that thing. We’re just going to have to keep me hidden in your house. No one has to know we’re mates. There’s no way I am getting on that bridge.” I crossed my arms and stared at him.
He huffed, and changed back into to himself. He was sweating, and had to lean against a rope post for support after his change.
“Natasha, it is perfectly safe. I will be with you the whole way. Come on.” He pulled my hands apart and started leading me to the bridge. I felt my pulse in my throat. I couldn’t do this.
“Please, Raif, can we find another way? I can’t. I really cannot get on this thing.” My shaky breath caught as he took a step out on the bridge. Panic flowed and I pulled against him. I couldn’t get on that thing.
“See, nothing to worry about. We will be all right. I will hold your hand the whole time. Trust me.” He moved farther out onto the swaying bridge.
“It’s the bridge I don’t trust, not you.” He ignored my muttered response and began slowly crossing the rickety death trap. Our arms pulled as far as they could apart, and I made myself stare at his back as I took my first step onto the creaky old bridge.
He had one hand on the rope, while the other gripped mine. I let go of his hand in favor of curling my fingers into his pants so he’d have both hands free to guide and support us across.
I was momentarily distracted at the sight of my fingers clutching at his pants. How did you keep your clothes when you changed? The question was gone as quickly as it had come, overruled by another wave of fear as I glimpsed the distance between us and the bottom of the ravine. I closed my eyes,
