Christmas came closer and yet the land burned. The sky glimmered a brilliant blue, framed with distant clouds. The sun blazed white. No wind stirred the torrid air. Everything was alight with heat, either not aware or not caring that it was winter. The Asher Kingdom shared a spirit of fire with its feline inhabitants, but the vibrant, varied land shouldn’t be this hot, not in winter. The grassland was especially brittle, ready to be set aflame at the slightest spark. In some patches the grass was already gone, burned away to show hard, rocky ground. Ginger, the Asher princess, wasn’t concerned. Snow would only get in the way.
Nearly full grown and acting it, she swept through the sky with confident beats of her long, slim wings. Her tail flared and twisted, expertly keeping her on a graceful course. A bird would have envied her skill. She kept her white paws tucked in to minimize drag. Her ears were flat; nothing to hear at this height and speed. Nothing to smell, either. Blue eyes kept watch, sharp and clear, never still. The air lay heavy on golden-brown fur broken by an orange tabby pattern.
She tilted and her home came into view, reminding her of her worries. In what was already the busiest and most stressful time of the year (for her, anyway), a young cousin was visiting the family. Creatively known as Pink, less concerning than the kitten’s unusual color was her sheer, reckless energy. No one knew what to do with her, Ginger least of all.
Something moved a few miles below. Ginger snapped out of her thoughts and narrowed her eyes, focusing on the movement. She made a sound halfway between a hiss and sigh.
As if summoned by her cousin’s thoughts, there was Pink, currently clinging to some kind of rope hanging from her bedroom window. She glanced up in her climb to see Ginger flying towards her and waved enthusiastically. She shouted something Ginger couldn’t quite make out.
“Pink! What are you doing?” Ginger called as she came within earshot. She spread her wings and slowed, gliding up to the wall and gripping it with her claws. She grimaced at the roughness of the stone.
“Hi, Ginger!” Pink beamed up at her, blue eyes bright. “Wow, it’s cold, isn’t it?”
“What are you doing?” Ginger repeated, shuffling down to her cousin.
“Well, I wanted to put this banner to some use so I decided to try and climb it like they do in the movies! It’s not quite long enough, I was hoping to use the other banners to reinforce the rope but I’ll have to go with weaker but longer, y’know?” Pink looked down speculatively. “I wish my friends were here, we could make a human ladder—a cat ladder? An animal ladder?” She scrunched up her face, trying to think of the right term.
Ginger, meanwhile, studied her cousin’s makeshift rope with dawning horror. “This is a banner from the party!”
“Yeah, it was really tacky!” Pink pushed herself away from the wall with her back paws, swinging out a little before bouncing back. “I’m gonna make new ones, don’t worry!” she added hurriedly, seeing her cousin’s expression. “And I made good use of the old ones, so it all worked out!”
Without a word Ginger leapt off the wall, spreading her flame-blue wings. She reachedPink’s window with a few powerful flaps, grabbing the banner in her claws. Her cousin, still clinging to her “rope”, shrieked as she rose into the air.
“Whoa!” Pink’s dirty white muzzle split with an enormous smile. “Why didn’t I think of this? Probably ’cause I can’t fly, this is awesome, Ging!”
Wings beating furiously, Ginger made it to a massive balcony. She lowered the banner until Pink’s paws touched the floor, released it, and landed. Her tail thrashed back and forth, hitting the massive Christmas tree that dominated the balcony. She stilled it. Folding her wings, she took a deep breath. Let it out. She counted down in her head. One banner, it wasn’t such a big deal, was it? They had spares, it would be easy to replace.
“I’ll get to work on the new banners!” Pink dashed off. “Thanks for the ride, Ginger!”
“Pink!” Ginger quickly pinned her cousin’s tail down with a strong white paw, yanking Pink to a halt. “We do not need new banners.” She explained in the most gentle tone she could manage. “We have spares of the old kind.”
Pink fluffed up her short fur indignantly. “But they’re so tacky!”
“Do you even know what that word means?” Ginger questioned, but the kitten ignored her (as usual).
“I can make better ones really fast! It’ll be great!” Pink insisted, ineffectually shoving at Ginger’s paw on her tail.
“No, Pink,” Ginger’s ears flattened and she lashed her tail. “We will use the same banners as every year.”
“But that’s just it!” Pink protested. Having it the exact same way is boring! All I want to do is shake things up a little! Make it more fun! Interesting!” She widened her eyes at her cousin.
Ginger huffed and lifted her paw. “It’s fine the way it is.” But Pink was already running off. Ginger shook her head. Hopefully the kitten would be occupied making the new banners. She growled softly, trying to keep her tail from lashing as she stuffed the ruined banner in the trash and left to get the spares.
As she walked to the supply closet, she made herself relax, shooing her frustrations into a carefully guarded section of her mind. Her wings lowered, her ears pointed forward, and her tail stilled. Arriving at the door, she pulled one of the keys off her bracelet. She spent the next five minutes wrestling with the lock.
“Ma’am?”
Ginger turned to look at the politely bowing servant—White Fluff, she thought. “Yes?” she said, tilting her head.
“We have received word that the water dragon emissary may be arriving earlier than planned.”
Ginger’s ears swiveled back instinctively, and she pushed them forward again, hoping the servant hadn’t seen this brief display of anxiety. “How early do you mean?”
“Perhaps an hour, possibly more.”
“Thank you, White Fluff.”
He smiled slightly and bowed again before flying away. Ginger watched him go, tail twitching. She quickly sorted out what was most important to finish first.
“Ginger!” Pink interrupted her thoughts, racing up to her with a huge grin. Ginger watched with a mixture of dismay and amusement as Pink tripped about five times, slipped halfway down the hall, and bounced to her feet again in front of Ginger. “I made the new banners!” She shook a mess of pink and green cloth off her shoulders, beaming.
“That’s nice, Pink, but we have spares of the old version in this closet. You can hang the ones you made in your room, okay?” Ginger twitched one ear and turned back to the lock, indicating the conversation over.
Pink did not take the hint. “Why would I do that?” She giggled. “See, see—” She batted at Ginger with one paw, drawing her cousin’s attention back to her. With a flourish, Pink spread one of her banners out. “Merry blazin’ Christmas!” it declared in sloppy pink letters painted on lime green cloth.
“‘Blazin Christmas’?” Ginger raised an eyebrow.
“It’s basically the same as ‘Not-cool Yule’ like on the old banners but it sounds better!” Pink did a little bounce. “Everything sounds better when it’s blazin!”
“That’s blazing. With a g. You said the old ones are tacky?” Ginger said flatly, in a tone like the desert.
Pink turned her head to one side. “Yeah. Why?”
Ginger just shook her head. “We’re not using those in the party. Please go play somewhere else.” She nodded at the other end of the hallway.
“Okay, so maybe the red’s a little too pink still, I tried to make it darker, but it was all I had!” Ginger’s ears swiveled back, and she almost bared her teeth. Did the kit never listen? “When I added the black it just looked wrong! I’ll just go ahead and hang these up, okay? It’ll look great!” Pink raced off, her voice fading. The banner fluttered behind her like a helpless bird.
Ginger groaned. She finally yanked the door open and pulled several of the spare banners, almost identical to the one Pink had destroyed, over her shoulders. She forced herself to walk slowly and calmly in the direction Pink had gone, taking deep breaths all the way. She’d wait till Pink left and take the new banners down. The kitten probably wouldn’t even notice, she had the attention span of a butterfly. Though come to think of it, a butterfly could be pretty focused…
“See?” Pink called as she entered the room, and Ginger looked up to see her cousin balanced precariously on a ladder, two of her banners already hanging lopsidedly and a third about to go up. “I told you they’d look good!” She leaned back to inspect her work.
Ginger had already shook the banners off her shoulders and spread her wings when the ladder tumbled backwards. She darted across the room, flying low, and slammed into Pink. Her momentum carried them both to safety. Behind them, the ladder crashed down on one of the mini Christmas trees. The trunk splintered with a loud crack. Green needles and shards of ornaments went flying. Ginger quickly raised her wings, trying to shelter herself and Pink as much as she could from the debris. She winced, shaking the splinters from her feathers.
“Sorry…” Pink’s ears drooped for a moment before she perked up again. “But look! They really contrast nicely with the red hangy-things!”
She gestured at the flame-colored wall hangings, alternating yellow, red, and orange over the sweeping white and blue walls. Everything in the palace had a sense of upward movement, fitting its fiery theme. The sloppy lime-green and pink banners, on the other hand…
Ginger growled. “Pink. We are not using your banners. If you want to help—” she nodded back at her deposited bundle. “—we need to hang those up.”
Pink’s ears drooped. “Aw, but—”
“Or you could put your banners away.” Ginger interrupted. She took a breath, trying to calm herself for what felt like the millionth time. “Please.”
Either not noticing or ignoring Ginger’s frustration, Pink barreled on. “But they’re so fun!” She widened her eyes and fluffed up her fur a little. She cocked her head a little, even going so far as putting one ear down. Normally quite effective, but Ginger had no time for puppy dog eyes.
“If you’re not going to help, please leave.” She flicked her tail dismissively.
Pink’s entire body seemed to wilt. “Okay…” She slowly walked out of the room, her tail dragging, ears flat.
Ginger shook her head, took down Pink’s banners, and replaced them with the old ones. With that crisis taken care of, she started on the other preparations.
“Excuse me, Princess?”
Ginger turned, surprised to see White Fluff bowing in the doorway. She turned her head to one side and nodded, and he walked over. “What is it?”
White Fluff bowed again, deeper this time. That usually meant bad news. “We have confirmed that the emissary will be arriving a few hours earlier than scheduled.”
“How many is ‘a few’?”
“Two or three, we think.”
“That gives me four hours. Thank you, White Fluff.” She turned back to her work, and he obediently left. Pink could learn a thing or two from him.
Twenty minutes of quiet ticked by. Ginger felt just the slightest bit guilty for sending Pink away. Those feelings vanished when said kitten returned, this time with a massive bottle of glitter glue.
Seeing the look on Ginger’s face, Pink paused before opening it. “Okay, before you say no—”
“No.” Ginger interrupted firmly. “Put that away and put the dishes on the table, please.”
Pink obediently left to get paper bowls, and Ginger turned her attention to strategically placed red and green blankets. Her ear flicked back as her cousin returned. Pink chattered to the servants helping her carry in all the bowls before they left to attend to other, more important things. Pink hummed to herself. Everything seemed normal.
Ginger smoothed the last green blanket, stopping to survey her work. Spotting something out of the corner of her eye, she turned and gaped. A tower of tacky paper bowls sat in the middle of the table, and Pink was once again on a precarious ladder, another stack of bowls held in her mouth
“Pink.” Ginger took a deep breath. “Why?”
Pink dropped the bowls onto her paws and looked down at her, squinting. “Why what?”
Ginger counted to ten in her head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you told me to? Remember?” She giggled. “And you say I’m forgetful!” The ladder swayed, and Ginger immediately took flight, grabbing it before it could fall.
“Get down, please,” Ginger tried not to hiss the words, but mostly failed. Her tail lashed, nearly knocking over the tower of bowls.
Pink’s eyes widened as she saw the fire building in her cousin. “Y-yes, ma’am.” She hopped down to the ground, ears flat as Ginger joined her.
“Clean this up, please, and set the table normally.” Ginger stormed off, tail whipping back and forth behind her.
“Ma’am?”
“What?” Ginger snapped, and White Fluff’s fur bushed at her fiery tone. She took a deep breath, reminding herself none of this was the servant’s fault.
“The emissary is arriving in two hours, at the latest.” He kept his eyes on the ground, crouching low and submissive.
Ginger exhaled a puff of smoke. “Thank you.” She ran off to get back to work.
Not ten minutes later, energetic paw steps approached from behind. She flattened her ears and took a deep breath, praying for patience.
“Ginger?” Pink tapped her on the shoulder. “The bowls are too thin.”
Ginger blinked, surprised to hear her cousin saying something actually relevant, and in a controlled manner, too. They were making progress! “What do you mean, they’re too thin?”
Pink help up a soggy bowl, soup dripping to the floor. “They won’t hold the soup.”
“Huh…” Ginger tilted her head thoughtfully. “What if we doubled them up?”
Pink put two of the bowls together and poured in the soup from the dripping bowl. “It works!” She beamed, and Ginger smiled slightly.
“Would you double up all the bowls, please, Pink?”
Pink perked up at this—not a good sign. “You got it, Ging!” She did some sort of salute-thing with her paw.
Ginger left to carry in a stack of Christmas wreathes. She assured herself that since Pink listened for once, she couldn’t possibly mess anything up. Of course she should have known better.
“Ginger!” Pink looked over at the sound of the wreathes hitting the floor. “I glued the bowls!” She proudly lifted the end of a chain of sparkling, gooey paper bowls. “Now everyone can—” she stopped and frowned, studying Ginger’s expression. “Are you… upset? What’s wrong?” She cocked her head, concerned at the despair in Ginger’s gaze.
“Why would you do that?” Ginger demanded, barely keeping herself from shouting. “What were you possibly thinking?”
Pink’s eyes widened at her cousin’s tone. “I put them together! I thought gluing them together would be better, and if they’re all stuck together they can’t get lost, and they also look really pretty!”
“Why would we be worried about bowls getting lost!?!” Ginger flared her wings before settling them at her sides again. Her tail knocked over one of the mini Christmas trees.
“I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve ever been to one of these parties before!” Pink bushed up her fur, giving her the appearance of a particularly angry piece of cotton candy.
“From the way you’ve been acting, you’ve never been to any party before! You’ve never been to any meal before! You’re either insane or out to get me!”
The cotton candy seemed offended by this. “I’m not out to get you! I’m helping you!”
“Helping me like water on a grease fire!” Ginger snapped back.
Pink blinked, confused.
“Because water makes grease fires worse—never mind, it’s an Asher expression, I wouldn’t expect you to understand!”
“Well excuse me, princess!” She seemed about to continue arguing, but instead giggled to herself over some private joke.
Ginger growled. “You can’t take anything seriously, can you?”
Pink fluffed indignantly again, opening her jaws to argue.
“Ma’am?” Ginger whipped around to see White Fluff standing quietly behind her, looking uncomfortable. Either he was incredibly stealthy or she was really out of it today.
“What is it?” Ginger winced at her own tone, but White Fluff didn’t flinch.
“The emissary will be here in half an hour.”
Ginger sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?” White Fluff nodded.
“Emissary?” Pink asked curiously behind her. “What emissary?”
“The water drag—” White Fluff started to explain, but Ginger interrupted.
“You don’t need to know.” She told her cousin dismissively. “If you’re not going to help, go play somewhere out of the way.”
Pink looked stricken. “But I want to—“
Ginger growled. “You had your chance. Now go away.” She looked the kitten coldly in the eye, and they stared at each other for a long moment.
“Fine.” Pink snarled, tearing her gaze away and storming off. She walked rigidly, fur spiked all over her body. White Fluff looked between the two sisters with concern, seemingly wanting to say something, but not sure if it was his place.
“What is it?” Ginger demanded, any patience gone.
“It is glory to overlook an offense.” He murmured, then straightened. “I am sorry, princess. I will do what I can to help you prepare in time, and I am sure the others will, too. Perhaps after the party you could…”
“Thank you, White Fluff.” Ginger cut him off, not quite ready to think about after the party. It had been looming on the horizon for so long, she didn’t really know how she’d feel when it was finally over. She grasped the goop-covered bowls and pushed into the air, grabbing the bottle of glitter glue with her back claws.
“I will fetch more bowls, princess.” White Fluff bowed and darted out of the room, quick and graceful as a sparrow.
Ginger flew into the sky, grimacing at the goop on her fur. She took a breath, focusing on the heat in her chest, and released a breath of fire, turning bowls and glue alike to ash. She watched it drift down like black, smelly snow. The image of a black Christmas briefly flitted through her mind.
The first thing she heard wasn’t the tree falling. It wasn’t any sound that indicated impending doom, not a crash or bang or thump or even a creak. Just a subdued “oh no”, echoing clearly off the surrounding walls and into the clear winter sky.
Ginger looked down and froze. Her only movement came from the instinctive flapping of her wings. She was transfixed by the scene on the balcony below, as a tiny pink figure reached desperately for the Christmas tree. Not one of the little, store-bought Christmas trees, but the big one, the one brought from the distant forest. The one carted over many painful miles, too big to fly. The one carefully set up, potted, and nurtured. The one lovingly decorated by all the staff, the one that made everyone say, “Ginger, you’re a genius!”
That tree fell.
It tumbled over the largely ignored railing, unnecessary in a kingdom of flying cats. It tumbled through the empty air. With everyone working hard inside, no one saw it falling, and no one tried to catch it. It tumbled to the burning ground with nothing to blanket its fall— no snow, no leaves, just dry, dry dirt and sun-baked stone.
And now came the sound, the echoing, painful crash, as the trunk split, branches splintered, needles scattered, and ornaments shattered into beautiful little shards. Then the sole sound of a pair of beating wings filled the air.
A small whimper from the princess’s throat came then. Pain and despair subsided as grief was swallowed by the fury. She folded her wings and arrowed to the balcony.
Pink flattened herself to the carpet, eyes huge and ears flat. “I’m sorry!” she squeaked.
Ginger thumped down in front of her, breathing heavily.
“It was an accident!” Pink started to say desperately.
“I would hope so!” Ginger roared, and the kitten shut her mouth, backing away as her cousin ranted. “Do you have any idea what you have done? We cannot replace the tree, we would be lucky to clean it up before the emissary arrives!”“I was… I made… I made some… some ornaments…” Pink tried to explain.
Ginger attempted to take a deep breath, but her throat was full of fire. “Did you now?”
Pink flinched. “I’m… I’m sorry…”
“‘Sorry’ does not help!”
“It’s not like we need a Christmas tree!” Pink insisted, her voice rising with agitation. “The party will survive without it! The guests can’t miss what they never knew was there!”
“That is not the point!” Ginger roared, fur bristling, and Pink dropped her gaze, submissive and subdued again. “All you have done today is disobey, disorganize, and disturb!”
“Nice alliteration,” Pink muttered, trying to break the tension in the air.
“Thank you!” Ginger flared her wings. “You barely listen, and even when you’re supposedly obeying me you do the most insane, irrelevant interpretation of my words you can think of! I am not even sure if you are imbecilic, insane, or just hate me!”
“Ginger!” White Fluff skidded onto the balcony, wings slightly raised and feathers messy. “What happened? Are you alright?” He shook his head wildly, did some sort of stumbling bow, and barreled on. “The emissary is almost here, and your parents are coming to see how it’s going, what’s going on?” He looked back and forth between the two cousins, noting the bristling fur and boiling tension.
Ginger blinked. Seeing the normally composed servant so frazzled put a crack in the murky glass she was seeing the world through. Shaking her head vigorously, she mentally clawed away the cloudy rage blinding her and focused on what was really happening. Pink was cowering, White Fluff was freaking out, her parents were coming, the emissary was coming.
She took a deep breath. In and out, until the smoke and fire had cleared. White Fluff and Pink were both watching her. She lowered her wings and flattened her fur. “White Fluff, could you please get some cats together to take care of the mess down there?” She flicked her tail over the edge of the balcony, and he followed it to the broken tree. His eyes widened, and he nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”
“Actually…” Ginger sat down, tilting her head, thinking hard. She kept breathing deeply, trying to fight off the rage fog long enough to do what she needed to do. “Could you leave the mess for a bit, so my parents can see?”
“Of… of course, ma’am.” White Fluff dipped his head, looking uncertain.
“What else is there to do?” Ginger asked him, still not looking at Pink, though she could hear the kitten shuffling uncertainly.
“The table is almost set, and most of the decorations are in place. The food isn’t ready yet, and we need more bowls.”
“I could—” Pink started to say, perking up, but Ginger silenced her with a wave of her wing.
“Could you take care of the table, White Fluff?” He nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take care of the balcony and the remaining decorations.” She waved a wing, and he took off, rising into the sky before looping down to the kitchens.
He’d hardly left before Ginger’s mother came charging through the doors. Her father followed behind, looking much more relaxed and glancing appreciatively at the decorations.
“What happened?” The queen demanded, studying her daughter.
Ginger’s tail thrashed, and she pulled back the rage. Not yet.. “Pink decimated our Christmas tree.”
“I’m sure it was just an accident,” The king reasoned.
“Yes, father,” She dipped her head in polite deference. “I don’t think she destroyed it on purpose.”
“I didn’t!” Pink agreed, perking up. “I was just trying to put up the ornaments!”
“However,” Ginger continued, looking down at some of the ornaments Pink had made, scattered on the balcony. They were all completely nonsensical. Ginger looked her father in the eye. “She has been causing accidents like these all day, and I’m worried she’s going to hurt herself or someone else. Or both.”
Mother frowned. “Is that true, Pink?”
Pink looked at her paws. “I guess, kind of, yeah…” She glanced up at her uncle with big eyes. “I was just trying to help! I wanted to make the party interesting! And fun! And different!”
“Have you obeyed Ginger? Done what you were told?”
“I… uh…” Pink tried to think and talk at the same time. “I think so…?”
“Ginger?” The queen looked at her daughter.
She curled her tail around her back paws, speaking carefully. “I know she’s only been trying to help, but she’s just a kitten. She can hardly help being easily distracted and clumsy. And she has been a little slow to obey a few times.” One of her ears twitched at the understatement.
The queen looked at her husband, and he nodded. “Pink, I think you should stay in your room for the rest of the day. I’ll bring you some dinner later, and we’ll talk about your behavior.”
Pink drooped. “Yes, sir…” Her paws and tail dragged as the queen ushered her to her room.
“Thank you, father,” Ginger bowed respectfully.
He smiled. “Great work with the party, Ginger. I’m proud of you.” He licked her head, spread his wings, and took off.
Ginger sighed. She raised a paw and smoothed her wet fur, relieved she’d managed to regain her composure. She walked into the party room, and White Fluff smiled at her. She didn’t yet dare to smile back, instead focusing on the remaining work. She swept Pink’s ornaments to the side with her tail and dragged several mini-trees over to the balcony. White Fluff brought some crates and draped blankets over them, and once the mini-trees were arranged, it didn’t look too bad. It filled the hole the tree had left, at least.
Standing beside her as they surveyed their work, White Fluff started to say something when they both heard a clear ringing.
“The emissary’s here,” White Fluff fluttered his wings anxiously before composing himself. “Should I—”
“Could you check on the kitchen, please?” Ginger asked. He nodded, looking a bit relieved, and flew off.
Ginger looked around the room one last time. It wasn’t perfect, but surely the dragon wouldn’t be that picky?The colors seemed to compliment each other well, all the dishes were in place. The banners swayed slightly in a breeze from outside. Carpets and blankets would protect everyone from the… well, there was no cold but at least they looked nice. The perches and other furniture were clean and ready for use. It should be fine.
The bell ringing faded away, replaced by a growing thunder. The sound of wings, not soft and feathered like the cats’, but smooth and fin-like. Sun light bounced blindingly off sleek scales as a wave of dragons came crashing towards the palace. Smaller Ashers fluttered around them, guiding and guarding the visitors. Servants rushed indoors. The water dragons weren’t normally hostile, but anyone would be cranky after days of flying in this blazing heat, especially creatures used to the cool seas and lakes and rivers.
Ginger walked out to the balcony, looking up at the visitors. A grey-blue individual with a cyan underbelly saw her and swooped away from the pack, followed closely by two other dragons. Ginger backed up, bowing, as the blue dragon landed silently in front of her. He bowed back.
“You are the Asher princess?” His voice was low and soft.
“Yes, I am Ginger.” She bowed again.
“I am Lingcod, emissary of the water dragons.” Despite its softness, his tone left no room for doubt. “I have come to discuss business with your dam and sire. Where are they?”
“Right here!” Ginger’s father called cheerily, swooping up over the balcony before tilting down and landing in front of the emissary. “I apologize for delaying you, emissary.”
“I am in no rush, Your Highness.” The emissary bowed fluidly.
The king smiled, white fangs gleaming. “I can see why she sent you. Let us find my mate, and we can discuss business.” The emissary nodded, dipped his head to Ginger, and followed the king back into the skies.
Ginger watched them fly away, exhaustion seeping into her bones. She wasn’t sure what else needed to be done. The emissary was here, and he didn’t seem very concerned with the way the room looked.
“Ma’am?” White Fluff poked his head in, glancing around warily before walking over to her.
“The emissary’s discussing business with the king,” she told him.
The servant nodded, relieved. “Perhaps you should rest, princess. I and the others can do what little is left.”
Ginger hesitated, nodded, and walked to her room. She considered doing a little extra school work, but couldn’t seem to focus on the mechanics of dragon flight. Instead she started grooming herself, easing the remaining tension from her muscles.
As she relaxed, her mind drifted back to her argument with her cousin. Ginger had been in the right, she was sure. Pink caused trouble and disobeyed, regardless of her intentions. She remembered Pink flinching at her yelling and sighed. Maybe she had been right, but she had not done right.
Ginger stood and slowly stretched, thinking. Her cousin was a troublemaker, impulsive, and had way too much energy. Pink never meant to hurt anyone, Ginger knew, she just never thought things through, either. What was she doing, cooped up in her room? She wondered how the small space hadn’t exploded with her energy.
Ginger started walking, rest forgotten. Pink wanted to help, she’d said so many times since she came to visit. What could she help with? What was there left to be done? What would Pink find fun enough without her little embellishments? Did she have any hobbies? Ginger’s ears flicked forwards as she remembered. Smiling at the idea, she flew to her parents’ room.
“Mother?” She called politely, stopping at the door.
“Come in, Ginger,” the queen answered, bounding over to rub her cheek against her daughter’s. “I was just going to join your father and the emissary. Do you need something?”
“I was wondering if we couldn’t find a way for Pink to help after all.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head, ears pricked. “What do you have in mind?”
A few minutes later, Ginger led her cousin into a room that flooded the senses: shining pots and a rainbow of colors, clattering dishes and shouting voices, and of course the smell of a thousand and one delicious foods almost ready to be consumed.
“Your mother mentioned you liked baking,” Ginger said to Pink. “Would you like to make some desserts for the party?”
Pink grinned. “Do you even have to ask?” She set to work with all the energy and enthusiasm as before, and once again some of her own ideas came into play. Ginger didn’t know the first thing about cooking, so she couldn’t tell if Pink was doing well or not. Those that did know jam didn’t go in cookies tolerated whatever nonsense Pink was doing as long as she didn’t touch the meat. And she didn’t, so everyone was happy.
As the sun dropped in the torrid sky, the servants set the meal on the table and Ginger sat with her cousin, watching with suppressed anxiety as the guests arrived. A few commented on how the party looked just like it had the year before. Ginger resisted puffing up with pride and satisfaction. Beside her, Pink sighed. “Maybe next year…”
The emissary arrived at the meal late with her father and mother. He slid easily into his seat and tore into his food with as much delicacy as the Ashers—which is to say, none. He took the time between dishes to ask who made each one and if they could take back some of the recipes. After trying one of Pink’s desserts, he patted the kitten on the head and complimented Ginger on her wise use of valuable assets. It was incredibly awkward and Pink wouldn’t stop giggling for several minutes afterward.
After everyone had eaten, the party went into full swing, and the adults began their “games” and “conversations”. Mostly this involved lots of flying and roaring, with some breathing fire and biting sprinkled throughout. Before long the banners Pink had protested were burned, the trees were scratched to bits, blankets and carpets were made into makeshift ropes and bowls were worn as hats. The emissary was in the thick of it, gleefully putting out fires and mocking the Ashers for their “pathetic flame breath, measly spars compared to the infernos of the fire dragons, you’re lucky to have us as allies!”
Watching from a roof beam, Ginger smiled at Pink’s giggling. Her smile faded, though, as a wrestling match between two guests knocked over one of the mini Christmas trees, reminding her of their earlier argument.
“Pink,” She said slowly, trying to find the right words.
“Yeah?” Pink looked at her with curiosity.
“I’m… sorry… for yelling at you.” Ginger flattened her ears and lowered her head, tail, and eyes. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“Oh!” Pink’s tail waved hesitantly before pointing up again. “Oh, that’s alright! I’m sorry for bothering you so much.” She bumped her head against Ginger.
Ginger smiled. “I forgive you.” She looked back at the party. “And honestly? They’re more destructive than you ever were.”
Pink giggled. “Would be nice if it would snow. Maybe that would cool them down.” The two looked outside. The clouds that had seemed so distant this morning had been blown in by a night wind, and now they rumbled and, as if on cue, burst. Rain filled the air. Guests shrieked and rushed inside, wet feathers and fur filling the room below while the water dragons howled with laughter.Lightning flashed almost playfully.
Ginger shrugged, ear twitching at the pandemonium below. “Close enough.” Pink, meanwhile, had a laughing fit, and Ginger spread a wing over her to keep her from falling off their perch. Pink eventually calmed down, still giggling.
Ginger purred. “Merry Christmas, cousin.”
Pink purred back. “Merry Christmas, Ginger!”