The Unlikely Bond

As the sun passed over the ridge late in the afternoon, two figures emerged from a small cave half-way up the mountain side. They were an unlikely pair. Best friends. One, a feline. The other, a canine. Two solitary creatures who defied nature for each other. No longer in the vibrancy of their youth, grey hairs freckled their faces. Each one of them was earned over the years. Sorrel, an ocelot, arched her back in a slow stretch that vibrated through her toes. Cinnamon, a fox, shook the sleep out of her tired muscles in a shiver that ran down her spine.

“Ahhh…” the sighed together, then chuckled.

Sorrel walked out to the ledge, her movements less fluid than they once were. She plopped down with a grunt, her paws dangling over the edge. Cinnamon carefully sat beside her and tucked her tail around herself. They sat in companionable silence. A light breeze rustled through the trees below. Cicadas hummed in the distance. And the sun was warm above them. This was part of their routine. Usually, they would observe the world below and gossip until the sun dipped behind the hill on the horizon. Then the game would be on. They would compete for prey until their mountain was highlighted by the glow of morning light.

Lately though, less words were exchanged, the start of the hunts were delayed longer, and the two returned to their cave sooner.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Sorrel asked quietly. Her eyes remained fixated on the flock of swallows dancing between the treetops. And her ears twitched back and forth, as she listened to their song.

Cinnamon smiled. “Down by the river.”

…… …… ……

**Nine years ago**

“Hellllp!” Cinnamon cried out. She dug her claws into the embankment, but the mud refused to offer any stability. Every time she tried to push herself away from the lapping current of the river, she slid closer to its grasp.

Just as her hind toes dipped into the cold water, a long, spotted tail appeared in front of her nose. “Grab on.” its owner commanded.

Cinnamon lunged one last time and bit down on the offered limb. She was pulled back to safety and collapsed with her legs splayed around her. Once she caught her breath, she thanked her rescuer, who was soothing her sore tail nearby.

“Don’t thank me yet.” The feline warned. “I may still eat you.”

Cinnamon gulped. “You won’t. Right?”

Her hero straightened and stared at her. The tip of her tail tapped the earth while her eyes seemed to pierce Cinnamon’s sole. “Perhaps.” she answered. “Answer my questions first.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cinnamon said, pushing herself up onto her haunches.

“What are you doing out here by yourself? You don’t look old enough to leave the den.”

“I’m five months old already!” Cinnamon yipped, standing up to make herself bigger. “I woke up early to chase the fireflies.” The cat’s brow twitched. Cinnamon pounced a couple times, re-enacting her adventure. “Then I… tripped over a stick and…” She sat down, tucking her tail close, and flicked her nose toward the riverbank. She, at least, had the sense to look embarrassed.

When the silence grew too long, she finally looked up and saw amusement in the face watching her. Followed by a chuckle. “Adorable.” The feline stood and began to walk away without another word.

“Hey!” Cinnamon called, trotting after her. “Where are you going?”

“To hunt.”

“So, you’re not going to eat me?”

The cat stopped and looked back at Cinnamon. “Would you like me to?”

“Nope!” Cinnamon declared, shaking her head. The cat started walking again. Cinnamon followed. “What’s your name?”

“Sorrel.”

“My name’s Cinnamon! I’m a Red Fox.” she introduced herself enthusiastically. “What are you?”

“An Ocelot.” Sorrel responded, without looking at the prancing ball of energy beside her.

Cinnamon gasped. “I’ve never met an Ocelot! Are you still a kit too?”

Sorrel stopped and sat back down. Cinnamon hopped in front of her. “I am no longer a kitten, as I am two years old.” she instructed.

Cinnamon’s eyes widened. “Really!?”

Sorrel nodded and her tail swished. She tilted her head. “Any other questions?”

Cinnamon had many more questions. Sorrel answered each one patiently. It wasn’t long before moonlight lit the sky. The woods were alive with other nocturnal animals by then.

“I should go now.” Sorrel finally said. “You should go home.”

Cinnamon’s ears drooped. And she lowered her head. “I can’t.” she whispered.

Sorrel stood and walked a few paces. Then, she stopped and looked back. “You’d better keep up then.”

Cinnamon perked up and pounced after her happily.

….. …… …..

“Do you ever regret it?” Cinnamon asked. “Saving me… Taking me with you.”

“Every day.” Sorrel admitted. “At first, that is.”

Cinnamon settled alongside her friend. “And… now?”

“Now?” Sorrel repeated. “Not an ounce.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t imagine a day without your incessant optimism.” she crooned.

Cinnamon smirked. “And I can’t imagine a day without your aristocratic charm.”

“Heh.” Sorrel lowered her head. Her tail continued to swish.

“Do you remember that Torn who followed you around for days?” Cinnamon asked.

“I remember the Tod who recited poetry with a mouth stained by blueberries.” Sorrel opened a single eye to glance at Cinnamon.

…… ….. …..

**Five years ago**

“Come on Sorrel!” Cinnamon taunted. “Catch me!” She leapt over a fallen log and zig-zagged through the tall grass of the clearing while Sorrel simply watched and cleaned her fur. From atop the boulder she perched on, she could see the tall blades of grass zipper behind the lively vixen.

She scoffed, “Not clever enough.” She smiled despite the bored expression in her eyes. Just as she was about to give chase, a call floated down from the trees.

“Now then, my Queen.” Sorrel’s whiskers twitched in irritation. She hated being interrupted the most during a hunt.

“Who dares to interfere?” she demanded.

An ocelot, slightly taller than Sorrel dropped from a limb and sauntered toward her.

Sorrel narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned and puffed out his chest. “You look radiant, love.” he complimented.

“Ha. A little too confident, aren’t you?” Sorrel mocked. His swagger stuttered.

Cinnamon was watching from the tree line by then. Curious. She had circled back when she realized that Sorrel wasn’t following her to make sure that she was okay. Then she heard their voices when she got close and stayed in the shadows to monitor the situation.

Sorrel languidly descended to the ground and circled the male. She looked him up and down appraisingly. “You’ve been following me for several days now. Why?”

“To court you. Of course.” he answered. “But that mutt was always around you. I don’t understand…”

Cinnamon bristled. Before she could say anything, Sorrel snapped back. “Never.” A snarl rumbled from her chest. “Never speak ill of my best friend!”

“Whoa, missy. She’s just an omnivore.” he cooed.

Sorrel pounced on him, pinning his shoulders to the ground, teeth bared. Cinnamon sprinted from the trees. “This is my territory.” Sorrel warned the male. “Don’t you dare return. Cinnamon can track your scent.” The vixen stepped forward and snorted in agreeance. “Now, leave.” The male scrambled to his feet and ran off.

Once he was out of sight, the two began to laugh. Hesitantly at first, then gutturally. They skipped their hunt that night.

Two weeks later, Cinnamon was stalking a ground squirrel when she was interrupted suddenly. Loud lip smacking and twigs snapping echoed around her. She growled in frustration and followed the sound. When she found the source, she was surprised to find a gluttonous Tod, drunk on wild blueberries. His mouth was dyed purple and his belly was swollen. Sorrel met up with her just before he made contact.

“Roses are red. Berries are blue. My mother once said I’d fall for a girl like you…” he chanted. Cinnamon’s face twisted in disgust.

“Beautiful rhyme.” she said. “But… I have my best friend.” She turned and left him stunned, behind.

….. ….. ……

“You and me, Cinnamon.” Sorrel said softly. She inhaled deeply and let it out. Her tail stopped swishing.

“You and me, Sorrel.” Cinnamon answered. Her tail crossed her friend’s and she closed her eyes.

The last rays of the sun reflected off their still noses as it finally disappeared behind the hill on the horizon. The woods below came alive with other nocturnal animals on the hunt. But Sorrel and Cinnamon would not be joining them. The game was finally over.