Oriole sighed and turned from where her mate had faded away. She began to walk back to the rest of the Ancestors.

"Do you think they will believe her?" she asked.

Branch, who was following her, took a while to respond, "Maybe. Maybe we should have talked to Snapdragon."

"No!"

"I know you miss her, but this is really important. As an Ancestor, you can't base decisions on your favoritism of a certain cat."

"It wasn't favoritism, Junco was the best choice to tell. She wouldn't hesitate to tell the rest of them, Snapdragon might."

"How do you know?" the tortoiseshell tom mewed, "They are sisters–"

"They never had any sisterly bond," Oriole interrupted, "And I'm pretty sure they didn't like each other, especially lately."

"Well it's too late to change anything now, so this is no use."

They fell into silence. With the help of the literally rolling hills, the two cats reached the others and Branch split off to talk to some cats she didn't recognise. Oriole sat by herself and began to groom her starry fur. The sparkle is a nice look, too bad you have to die to get it.

There were far more cats populating the ever-shifting world than Oriole ever would have thought, and she hadn't met most of them. I guess the Wanderers have been around a long time, or used to be larger.

She had half expected to see Granite here, but she couldn't find him. Maybe he's not dead, or maybe they wouldn't let him in. He wasn't a great cat, especially near the end.

Oriole had seen a few other familiar faces, Driftwood, Frog, and Bellflower. They had all died in a terrible bout of greencough when she was only a few moons old. Granite's sister, Needles, and his parents, Hood and Katydid, were there and she had asked them about him. They wouldn't really say anything.

Junco's mom was one of the first to greet her, besides Branch. Amber had seen her and almost broke down. I guess I never thought about the other side. Junco was so sad, and Amber must have been too.

The terrain of the Ancestors was large, covering the same area the current Wanderers could travel. It constantly shifted to stay interesting for the dead cats. If you weren't paying attention, you could be carried far away by a certain patch of grass. Something would always help you get back though.

The dead cats could not see the living from this land, they had to go below it. As Oriole learned soon after dying, the beautiful landscape that they spent their days on was not the only one she could visit.

If you willed yourself to fall through the starry earth, you could spectate on the living world. Sort of floating in the sky above them.

She had asked about walking amongst them and everyone went quiet. So, no. I guess we can't. Nobody here answers my questions. I have too many of those.
   
Where is Granite?
   
Is he still alive?
   
Is this where every dead cat goes?
   
Where do the dead cats that aren't Wanderers go?
   
Was the dead oriole a sign?
   
Can Ancestors even send signs?
   
Why can't we walk amongst them?
   
Why didn't I think of any of these questions before I died?

No answers were to be found.

Only Branch ever even tried, and he still wouldn't say much. He had requested of the others that they be the ones to send the dream.

"The Wanderers," he had said, "they are lost. They will stay lost and in chaos until we do something. The dream is the only way."

"We recognize that something must be done, and the dream seems ideal, if unsafe," Driftwood was talking, "But who–"

"Us!" Branch interrupted, anger edging his normally kind voice. "We were the ones that just got murdered! Who else would you send? Both of us are willing to accept the risk!"

"Err, I suppose..." Hood mewed.

The argument had ended there, he had gotten what he wanted. Though Oriole wasn't sure about the 'risk'. What is it? What was I getting myself into?

Whatever it was hadn't happened or affected them. Luckily.

Oriole spent a lot of time watching the Wanderers, a lot of the other cats did too. There wasn't much else to do while she waited for Junco, and it was an interesting time. Many cats were worried. If Static dies, will it be up to us to deal with her? Add that to the never ending list of questions.

Oriole fell through now, to see what was happening. The aftermath of the dream she made.

With Spirit
By Doodeedoodah on deviantART