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A thin plume of smoke rose up above the tree tops in the thin, early morning air of what promised to be a bright winter's day. It seemed out of place in the cloudless sky, pointing like an arrow to whatever was going on below.

If one followed the plume - or perhaps just the scent of burning wood and pine needles - the clearing next to the reserve's second biggest lake would reveal a large, dark metal pot sitting atop a grate over a crackling fire pit. The area around the fire was abuzz with miniature otters hurrying this way and that, occasionally bumping into one another and more often than not coming perilously close to falling into the flames. Somehow, though, they always seemed to bounce the right way to avoid becoming fuel for the fire.

The clearing was, likewise, alive with activity; at least, more alive than would be expected on a chilly winter morning. Streams of minis skittered back and forth; some heading from pot to water and some from the fire to the forest's edge.

Nearby, an elderly bobcat sat on skinny haunches and observed the scene with her milky eyes. She tested the air delicately with her nose, perhaps to get the scent of what was inside the pot, or perhaps on the lookout for those not in her service who might find their way into the clearing.

The rangers had stalled on their scouting, finding the reserve quiet in the cold winter that they themselves found unsettling. It had lost it's novelty and their bodies wished more often to be in the warm sun that prevented snow from falling in Angel Grove. Except today their attention was focused on the curling trail of smoke.

Billy, morphed, had ventured forth to find out what the smoke meant. It seemed unlikely that it was anything of much consequence and that was why he had volunteered to go by himself. He thought the odds were higher than a human or one of the many denizens had started a fire for some reason. Either way he didn't see the new for two or three Power Rangers to show up.

He made good time, a speck of blue light darting from tree to tree until he came close to the source. He went slower then, shifting until he found himself in a tall tree that he could stare from--face concealed beneath his helmet. He had never seen the elder bobcat, a thinner build with loose folds of skin that dictated old age, but he remembered the other. He had only met one Jack Ripper briefly but he did remember him.

Echoing Billy's arrival in the trees, a black otter dotted in glistening silver pattern along his back, entered the clearing. He shouldn't have followed the smell of smoke but it was close--too, too close--to the full moon and the wolf within him was stirring. It was too much to ignore and he found himself going against the logic that so ruled his life (even as a beast). It was only in this short time frame of an upcoming moon cycle's end that he found himself unable to control it. And so he stared at the two bobcats, wondering what was going on and trying to bite back the fierce wolf growl in his throat that if let out would sound like nothing more than a kitten mewl to these predators.

Jack sauntered his way over, cape fluttering over his back, "I must say old one, you have caught my curiousity and that isn't something easily found. I must inquire in to what you are doing exactly." he stated, going up to the elder bob, eyeing the fire and mini's scampering around.

Hazel surveyed her visitors in turn, though it was debatable how much she could really see through her eyes anymore. She nodded to Jack first. "Nice to see you again, dear. I see you're as dapper as ever. And curious as a cat," she added with a grin.

She offered a nod to Billy, as well as a hint of a smile, revealing several yellowed teeth. "And you, young one." Glancing at his attire, she added, "That's a smashing color, isn't it?"

When her gaze came to rest on Keiran, she paused to drink in the stance and demeanor. After a long moment, she looked away again smiling to herself. "And you, as well. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Shuffling forward (and knocking a mini or two out of the way as she did so) she sniffed at the cooking pot. "Was it the scent of delicious stew that drew you all forth today? What else would a simple old woman like me be brewing in such a large cauldron, mmm?"

"I hardly doubt you are simple," Keiran retorted. His tongue curled back in his mouth suffocating the urge to tell her he believed she was old. He didn't need his statements being taken as insults. He sat up, looking far more relaxed than he was, as his muscles remained taut. It wasn't that he expected to become an otter either bobcat wished to eat--there was simply no trust allotted for anyone. It was hard to believe that once he might have been more lenient but he could little afford to be so now. He would feel more at ease if--no, no he would feel far less at ease if his pack brother were around.

He let out a sigh, two bobcats and an otter, while he himself was an otter, was rotten company. At least in the odds of a fight, he was sure he could count that he would be of no concern. That blue clothed otter had a hilt of some possible weapon sticking out of a holster on his belt. He hoped that would--no matter what was said--keep all of them in line. (Not that the wolf gave a damn what he thought.)

"I find that blue is well-suited to me," was all he cared to comment, at first. He stared following her movements--keeping himself from darting forward to help the poor mini otters. "It is my experience that assumptions of any being are often ill-advised and there are many things that you could be up to," he replied with a satisfied nod. Although he was rather sure she wasn't cooking up putties. She'd need something bigger for that he was sure.

Jack silently eyed the minis running about and throwing different odds and ends into the pot and he chuckled, "My dear old one, I dare say it sounds quite delightful indeed. But I have recently eaten my meal for the evening and couldn't possibly consume another morsel. Maybe your other guests would more then happy to sample your brew." he smirked.

A large, bestial form infiltrated the sky; a trail of red flame lashing at her heels in haste. Slitted pupils scanned the horizon as the demon cat dragged a tongue over her inner jawline to clean out the remnants of the meager youkai she picked out crawling around the woodworks of the forest just moments earlier. A column of smoke obstructed her line of sight, and her cursed sense of curiosity forced the bobcat (as her "species" was identified as, in this place and time) to debate the cause of this dark pillar. In her era, humans used smoke signals during times of war, usually as warming of an oncoming threat... if the threat hadn't already come and burned down the village, that is.

But while the she-cat felt no sense of danger riding on the wind, the insatiable desire to investigate lingered still.
And thus the monstrous nekomata dropped from the sky and completely erupted into fire with a likeness that appeared and sounded like a meteor that was burning up in the atmosphere (or, as the unfortunate and highly distressed avian onlookers would describe it, a flaming ball of death plummeting towards the earth) as her body nearly dissolved into nothing -- in comparison to her former size -- before she made contact with the ground in an eerily quiet landing.

Kirara was now a creature who couldn't possibly be bigger than a newborn bobkitten, yet had all the attentiveness of a squirrel. Having touched-down about a hundred or so yards away from the lake, she trotted the rest of the way, only to come across... oh dear, what was this... a gathering of sorts? The now miniature, twin-tailed demon inched herself around the base of a tree -- coincidentally, the same one the blue-suited otter had been perched on before -- and studied the liveliness taking place around the hodge-podge collection of assorted predators and... otter. Her small stature wasn't the easiest to notice right off the bat, though she didn't really intended to hide herself, and just sat at the edge of the clearing. Watching, for now.

Jack adjusted his hat and monocle, doing his best not to turn his nose up at the smell coming from the pot, not wanting to lose face in front of this elderly bob, suspecting she was much older then him. 'Feeling' another powerful presence arrive, he turned his eye to the tiny looking bobkit sitting on a root and he smirked, practically seeing the fire and power leaking off her, but he kept that piece of information to himself.

He felt it was a shame this old bob was basically doing all her families workings on her own, with no apprentice to help her and carry on her teachings. "So you are looking for someone to carry on after you, is that what you are implying old one? And if you are in need of more mini's, all you have to do is ask me, I have more then any predator can handle." he offered.