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"Let's play hide-and-seek!"

The children laugh and say "nose goes!" which is unfortunate for the noppera-bo because he has no nose to thumb. He also does not have any eyes to close, so he simply counts to ten as the others run for cover. The best hiding places are in the buildings, because there are so many nooks and crannies inside. Alleyways are also good, as well as little spaces, like under bridges.

There is one girl who cannot go into buildings. Her head would hit the ceilings, and in any case she cannot fit through most doors. She tries to squeeze under a bridge, but her legs are too long. She runs to an alleyway. The goblin twins are already hiding there, and they throw a rock at her when she tries to join them. "Go away, Fjorgyn," they say. "Or else he'll find us!"

The ten seconds are almost up. Fjorgyn is out of places to hide, so she crouches behind a bush that barely covers her feet. Almost immediately, she feels somebody tapping her shoulder. "You're out!" the noppera-bo giggles, mouthlessly. Fjorgyn wants to ask how he found her when he has no eyes, but she does not, because it does not matter. She is always the first one out.

It will be a while before the next game begins; the others will not be found so quickly. Fjorgyn tries her best not to block the streets as she wanders, but a certain amount of impatient glares thrown her way is unavoidable. Somebody in a second floor apartment flaps their laundry out the window, and it almost hits Fjorgyn in the face. She shrugs off the stammered apology. She is accustomed to such things by now.

"Hey! Fjorgyn!" she hears someone call, and she turns.

Bastet leans out of a second floor window, waving jovially. The sign on the door below her is carved from black iron and reads, 'The Menagerie: Pets for All Ages'.

"Fjorgyn, I have a new arrival -- do you want to see him?" Bastet's whiskers twitch as Fjorgyn shrugs then nods: yes. "Just a moment," says the cat-headed woman. She reappears at the window, holding something grey and fuzzy and squirming. Fjorgyn reaches out to take it with both hands.

The rabbit trembles in Fjorgyn’s gentle grip, long ears quivering like a child in a storm. He curls into a ball of radiating heat and downy softness. Fjorgyn can feel his skeleton through a layer of skin and fur, thin as lace -- and she knows that if she so desired, she could crush him with one hand.

"He's been a little skittish since morning," Bastet is saying. "I don't think he's very fond of cats…"

Fjorgyn feels the rabbit’s pulse quicken when Bastet says 'cat'. She does not see the tabby prowling by Bastet’s elbow, but the rabbit does. He is ready when the tabby pounces with claws outstretched and a mad yowl, as Bastet shouts "Azizi, no!" Fjorgyn feels rather than sees the rabbit leap from her fingers. She lets out a wordless cry as both the tabby and his prey fall through the air.

The tabby leaps wildly, carelessly, a flight of freefall. The rabbit is much more calculated in its movements, bounding from ledge to ledge in a complicated zigzag path to the street. He hits the ground and takes off while the cat is still twisting through the air. Fjorgyn tries to chase after the rabbit, crushing shrubbery and knocking over disgruntled bystanders in the process. But the city is a labyrinth with plenty of hiding places for both children and rabbits, and Fjorgyn is as poor a seeker as she is a hider.

"I will look for the rabbit," Bastet says from behind Fjorgyn, turning her head from side to side as she sniffs the air. "You go after Azizi. I think he went into the forest."

The forest runs along the city’s eastern border. It is feral place, and Fjorgyn has never before ventured into its uncivilized depths. She takes her first steps off the paved roads with caution -- a sign of respect, to those who guard this alien land. A faint meowing sifts through the leafy canopy. Fjorgyn looks up. The troublesome tabby has somehow gotten himself stuck on the branch of a tree.

Fjorgyn reaches up, as high as she can. Her fingertips barely brush the bark of the branch. She waves in a 'come hither' motion, but the stubborn creature only hisses and clings tighter to its tentative perch. The trunk of the tree grows at an angle where it meets the ground, and after testing her weight with one foot, Fjorgyn gingerly begins to climb. She does not have far to go. The branch is only a little out of her grasp.

The cat sees Fjorgyn coming closer. He yowls and scoots farther away. Fjorgyn takes another step up the trunk, then another. She puts a foot on the base of the branch and lunges forward. With a dry cr-cr-crack! that echoes throughout the forest, the branch, Fjorgyn, and the cat all tumble to the ground.

She lands on her back, breathless. She is barely aware of Azizi, clasped protectively to her chest. For a moment, she imagines that she sees stars, yellow stars against a green sky, and she thinks that they are beautiful. Then the leaves come into focus, negative space becoming positive. Fjorgyn is struck by how far away the leaves must be. The trees seem to stretch forever higher, never-ending pillars of bark and sap, like lifelines to the sky.

When Fjorgyn once again finds the room to breathe, her first inhale feels like the forest expanding all around her. For the first time, she feels alive with a most peculiar feeling: the feeling of being small.

Fjorgyn returns the hissing, spitting tabby to an extremely grateful Bastet just as she hears a loud cry of "Ollie ollie outs and free!" The game is over and the next will start soon. The rules say that the last to be found will become the new 'it', and the kelpie girl is crowned the winner of this round, an honor well deserved. For the past two hours, she has been holding her breath at the bottom of the plaza fountain.

"I am going to start counting now," the kelpie announces, reveling in her awesome and newfound power. She spots Fjorgyn, hunched in an archway. "Fjorgyn, are you playing?" she asks. Fjorgyn nods, and the kelpie shrugs and puts her hands over her eyes. "One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand," she begins.

Fjorgyn ignores the doors and the bridges. She doesn't even bother to check if the alleys are full; without looking, she can already hear the goblins whispering from the same back street where they hid the first time. Instead, Fjorgyn heads east. Gradually, the cobblestone roads make way for plain dirt, and then grass, and then trees. She finds a majestic oak with a hollow worn through its trunk and climbs in. They will never find me here, Fjorgyn thinks, as she settles back and closes her eyes. The sounds of fauna breathing and flora growing wash over her. She does not wake for a very long time.