The sun broke over the looming walls of Dawnmarsh, setting the village awash in an orange glow. High in the spacious hollow of an old willow tree, a cat stirred lazily. As he uncurled himself, the head of a disheveled mouse appeared amongst the ginger fur.
"Come on, sleepy. We've got things that need doing today," the mouse said, tapping the cat square on his pink nose.
Groaning, the cat raised one paw and brought it down on the mouse's head, pushing her back down to the floor of the hollow. "Go back to sleep, Nibbles," he grumbled. Nibbles struggled from underneath her brother's paw.
"Jareth!" She chided, tweaking a whisker sharply. Green eyes flashed open and Jareth bared his teeth. The young mousemaid merely laughed, adjusting her tunic as she made her way across the hollow to a large cupboard.
"Must we?" The cat asked, stretching.
"We must. Here, fuzzbutt," she extended a paw to him, and in it was a mushroom and leek pie. Jareth took it from her, eating it slowly. His sister, however, went about scarfing hers.
"Oh, fine," the cat huffed, reaching up to brush crumbs from his whiskers. "What all needs done today, Nibbles?"
"Well, I thought we might restock the cupboards before mother comes home. Old Mrs. Shrew should have more acorn flower ready. And Mr. March just harvested his garden yesterday."
"I hate that Mrs. Shrew," Jareth grumbled, "Remember last time? I had a bump the size of an egg on my nose for days!" He rubbed his nose, indicating that even if she didn't remember, he certainly did.
"For being so much larger than many of our friends and neighbors, you sure are fussy!" Nibbles laughed.
"I'm not fussy. Jus' don't like being bonked on the nose, that's all."
"And I thought that maybe after the market, we could go and visit Sharpwing for tea! Mother said he made some dandelion and clover tea just this week."
The young mouse stood on tiptoes as Jareth lowered his head, allowing his companion to hook her paws underneath her green kerchief and climb up onto his back.
The trip down the tree was not as easy for Jareth and Nibbles as it was for their mother, but the pair made do and could (usually) do so without injury. At the base of their tree, a small hearth was set up, and Jareth stopped long enough to remove the cold ash so that a fire could burn there later.
Dawnmarsh wasn't terribly large, but neither was it small. It was a decent sized community of various creatures, some very small, like Nibbles, and others quite large, like Grawff and Ashlimb. Unlike the larger cities on the Isle, cities that the siblings had only heard of in stories, Dawnmarsh was rather stuck in its ways. There were no fancy contraptions or airships here, oh no. If traveling needed to be done, you had only two options. You had to walk, or you had to plan with Ashlimb, and the big badger would pull you in her cart.
Nibbles and Jareth had never been outside of Dawnmarsh, to the best of their knowledge. Though they knew their mother was not truly their mother, she had raised them well, and neither considered where it was they came from. Since they had never asked, the majestic hawkmother had never told, instead raising them in her nest along with her eggchicks.
The market was set up optimally, almost in the very heart of the village. Great colorful stalls lined the square, each ran by a resident of Dawnmarsh. Outside the village walls, it was said, were dangerous creatures, foul beasts who would harm others as soon as looking at them. As such, Dawnmarsh did not often see traveling merchants.
"What all do we need, Nibbles?" Jareth asked over his shoulder as creatures bustled by.
"Flour, for more pies. Mrs. Shrew will have that. Mr. March should have carrots and celery, Ashlimb has been out gather nuts and berries. If I'm not mistaken, Grawff should have some honeyed fruit from the orchards!"
"Oh, so we're here for the entire market, then," Jareth teased. Nibbles knocked him on the head, though she knew her small paws didn't do much damage to the feline.
"Ah, iffit innit the hawksiblings!" Grawff beamed at them. He was an older porcupine, going grey about his nose, where he kept a set of silvery spectacles perched. "An' whensyar awl muffer s'posed to be home agin?" Understanding Grawff was sometimes a tedious affair. He often would mash two words together, and leave others completely out.
"Oh, she should be back sometime tonight, Grawff," Jareth told him, smiling fondly. He liked the old porcupine, who was friendly enough, except when he wasn't.
"Gud, gud, gud. Och, aye, 'ere go, hawks." He thrust a hefty sack into Jareth's paws. "'Oneys pears, affles, soom cheeries. Even putt soom candid nuts in thur." He winked. "Offen go now, hawks, and make shur awl Grenadine get soom of cheeries! Fav'rits, know."
Jareth thanked him, and went to go on their way.
"Och, hawks, wait innit! Muffer tells me you wanten a p'rate, aye, mizzy?"
Nibbles poked up over Jareth's head, "Yes sir, that's right."
There was a moment of silence and awkward shuffling as Grawff reached behind him. He made a small noise of surprise, and when he brought his paw back around, in it he held a small quill.
"All p'rates need gud stickems," he exclaimed, beaming. Nibbles scrambled onto Jareth's head, taking the proffered quill from Grawff's paw. It was perfectly balanced.
"Oh, thank you, Grawff!"
"Need no thank, mizzy. Offen go."
As the siblings continued through the market, Jareth growled a warning to his sister as she settled back against his shoulders, "If you stick me with that, I'll eat you and tell mother you ran away."
As the pair continued through the market, they stopped at Ashlimb's stall next. She wore a red habit, preferring to be a peaceful creature whenever she could manage.
"Jareth, Nibbles, wonderful to see you!" The badger had a loud, booming voice, and despite the imposing figure she cut, she was kind and motherly.
"Nibbles said you went out foraging again, Ashlimb," Jareth said. Ashlimb rested a large paw on Jareth's head, patting him as gently as possible.
"Indeed I did, young cat. The finest nuts and berries that I could find." Her paws set to work busily, and she held out a pouch to Nibbles. "You two are going to have an awful lot to carry back to that tree of yours if you're not careful," she laughed.
"Oh, we should be alright, Ashlimb. We've just need acorn flour from Mrs. Shrew," Nibbles dismissed the concern. Ashlimb leaned over her stall, bringing her face close to Jareth's.
"Do be careful. The old Shrew is in an exceedingly bad temper today. Perhaps let your sister do the talking," she spoke in a hushed tone so that only the siblings would hear. Jareth made a face, using his free paw to rub at his once injured nosed.
"Thank you for the warning, Ashlimb," Jareth thanked her graciously and the pair went off to find Mrs. Shrew's stall.
For being as old as she was, Mrs. Shrew was surprisingly agile.
"Back, back, you vicious hellbeast!" She was on top of her stall, brandishing her can in Jareth's face. He hissed, and the Shrew shrieked, making to hit him with the stick.
Before the stick made contact with Jareth's poor nose, Thomas O'Possum was there, wrestling the stick from Mrs. Shrew.
"Marm, yer manners is bleedin' awful. Leave the lad alone."
"He hissed at me! The hellbeast was going to eat me alive!"
"Can't say I'd blame 'im if he did, ye wicked ole shrew. Goin' after young 'uns like tha'. If I see ye shakin' yer stick at another small one, I'm goin' t' break it."
"Opossums! Rude! All of you! No manners, filthy beasties with no respect for your elders!"
Thomas handed Jareth a bag of the acorn flour, and left Mrs. Shrew's cane on the ground. The kindly opossum took Jareth's face in his paws, careful to mind his whiskers. He examined the cat for any injuries. "Ye should be alright, lad. But next market day, jus' send your sister."
"Everything alright, Tom? Though I heard that vile shrewwife shoutin' again," emerging from a small clump of creatures came Mickey Pouch, the Australian opossum, holding the paw of Mildred the squirrel.
"Aye, love. She just went after Grenadine's boy with that' awful stick," Thomas told his husband.
"Kitty!" Mildred shouted, making grabby motions with her little paws. Mickey picked her up, holding her out to Jareth. The young squirrel ran her paws across Jareth's fur, chattering madly. "Soft, soft, soft!"
"Take care o' yer brother, lass. He'll end up in a world o' trouble without ye!"
"I'll try, Mr. O'Posssum, thank you! Goodbye, Mr. Pouch, goodbye, Mildred." She waved before turning sternly on her brother. "Why'd you go and hiss?! Ashlimb said to let me do the talking!"
"Why weren't you talking when she was getting ready to thunk me on the nose again?"
Done with their market trip, the siblings could be heard bickering all the way back to their willow. With food tucked away neatly where it belonged, Jareth and Nibbles took a small lunch. Jareth set about getting mint tea ready for them while Nibbles cut a sizable wedge of cheese and two thick slices of bread.
"You know, I've never met a cat that like cheese as much as you," Nibbles commented while Jareth filled their cups.
"How many cats have you met, then?"
"Two!"
"Yeah, me and who else?"
"We had that one here last winter!"
"Nibbles, he also ate cheese."
"Not the way you do, Jareth!"
The pair settled at the table, eating their food in comfortable silence. The hawksiblings did not feel the need for constant chatter as some of their neighbors did. Their adoptive family were a quiet bunch, not big on vocalizing unless it was necessary. Their brother Sharpwing, the one who'd stayed, was a fair deal more talkative than Stormstar, the chick who'd hatched first.
When they'd finished their meal, Jareth and Nibbles made quick work of clearing up again so they could go and visit Sharpwing. While the trip down the tree didn't take very long at all, getting to Sharpwing's took a bit longer. Their brother lived on the very edges of Dawmarsh, staying close only because he knew his mother would not last forever in this world, and there must always be a hawk in Dawnmarsh. Like most hawks, Sharpwing seemed to expect things before they occurred, and he was expecting his siblings when they arrived. He enveloped them in a hug, large wings covering them both.
"Has mother returned yet?" Sharpwing asked, setting the table for his younger siblings.
"No, not yet," Jareth said, preoccupied with the tea his brother was pouring.
"All you think about is food," Nibbles whispered, jabbing him with her elbow. "She should be back tonight," she said, addressing her eldest brother. "Do you know where she went?"
"Same place she always goes," the hawk answered cryptically.
"Which is? Jareth asked, raising his green eyes from the table. The youngest hawk siblings had been trying for years to figure out where their mother went.
"Which is, oh small brother of mine," Sharpwing started, "Not any of our business."
"But that's not fair!"
Jareth and Sharpwing jumped at Nibbles' sudden outburst. The young mousemaiden was not one to anger quickly, so when she did, it tended to be over something that had been bothering her for a while.
"You and Stormstar have always known where she goes! Jareth and I are old enough to know!"
"Easy, small sister. It is hawk business, not for you to know." Sharpwing reached out with a deadly looking talon, tilting it sideways to tweak his sister's nose.
"We are hawks!" Jareth protested, setting his cup down.
"In name and in heart, yes. No creature would deny this fact. But the journey mother makes is strictly for hawks. To my knowledge, no other animal makes the trip. Therefore, it is strictly the business of hawkfolk. Please try to understand," Sharpwing spoke softly, perhaps the most either had heard him talk at once.
The painful part was that the siblings did understand. While they were hawks, they were not hawks. The two lapsed into silence, and while neither knew, each was thinking about their specific destinies and what it might mean for their status as a hawk. They knew the stories of Rolling Rock, the Hawk Lord who had built the sky and controlled the fate of all hawks. But as Sharpwing had said, Jareth and Nibbles were not hawks. They did not know their own Lord of Lady, perhaps because Grenadine had not known herself.
"Don't fret. Someday I'm sure she'll tell you. Now if she's to return home tonight, you should go tidy up while I do rounds. I'll stop by in the morning, I promise."
Cat and mouse knew when they had been dismissed, so they hugged their brother goodbye and finished their tea, heading home to do as Sharpwing had suggested.