Fields extended in all directions from the small home, quite unremarkable in contrast to the scattered plots that surrounded it. Their own fencing sectioned each off, neatly dividing the land among those that worked it. As the crops grew, rows of neatly tilled soil came to life, permitting their harvest time and time again.

Holley spent much of her time here, learning the trades of her family. More interesting to her, though, was the quiet pond nestled behind their home. It was little more than a foot deep, although no fish lived within. A large oak tree overlooked the pool, casting a pleasant shade over the spot during the warmer months, and also boasted several excellent handholds for climbing and exploring. Although getting down was an entirely different story.

It had become a place for the young cougar to play and dream. Eventually they added a rope swing, allowing her to sail over the water, overlooking the farm in every direction if she climbed high enough. Then came the rowboat, a worn and battered piece of work that her father brought home for his daughter.

It certainly couldn’t float, but letting it set halfway into the water was suitable for the ecstatic feline to jump with glee. Ever supported by her parents, it wasn’t long before she had fashioned it with bits of rope and old sheets as a sail to create her own imaginary schooner.

As time went, she spent more of her time here–playing out the motions of her imagination of flying over the fields and mountains in her ship. It was a grandiose escape, turned to at every moment she could get away with.

Her friends were not exempt, either, as Holley dragged the young doe to the fields, the book she had found earlier tucked under an arm.

“Come on, Sylvia!”

The cougar may as well have been pulling a dead weight by this point. Sylvia threw her head back, letting out a drawn-out sigh. She was far from interested, but continued behind.

“You’ll really like this part! I promise.”

The two approached the pond between idle chatter, Holley eventually releasing Sylvia’s arm. She climbed over the side of the boat after they arrived and sat within. In her lap, she opened the book before motioning for her to climb in as well.

Sylvia rolled her eyes but followed. She wasn’t in the business of making Holley upset. As she settled down, she scanned the pages.

“So, what did you want to show me?” The words were drawn-out, exasperated and tired. “You know I ain’t the reading type, and I don’t listen very well neither.”

The pair shared a small giggle while Holley turned the pages. As a picture came into view, she paused, turning the book to show Sylvia.

“Look!” She shoved it toward the doe. “It’s a pirate fight!”

Sylvia’s eyes immediately lit up as she looked over the image. A scene showed two ships floating in the sky with cannons firing, clouds of black smoke rolling from their muzzles. Countless men and women swung from the rigging of each ship, swords and guns in tow. It was more than enough to capture Sylvia’s attention.

“There’s an entire chapter about the fight!” Holley grinned as she turned the pages, more images coming into view as the story described the courageous feats of strength the crew performed. After a few more pages, she placed the book down, letting Sylvia turn the pages on her own.

The doe did so intently, enraptured by the scenes before her. Each turn grew in force as the story followed a woman with what could have been a miniature cannon on its own, firing in all directions as the pirates descended upon the ship.

As Sylvia looked up to show Holley, she was nowhere to be found. She turned to look behind her, expecting the feline to jump out in an attempt to frighten her, but there was no such surprise. Turning back to the book, the sound of snapping twigs and branches drew her attention toward the sky as a figure swung from a loose rope.

The cougar landed with a thud, graceful as ever as the brass goggles over her eyes clicked, releasing a pair of lenses from her vision. In one hand, she held an intricate pistol–loaded and ready. In the other, she reached to the belt fastened to her hips and unhooked a satchel, tossing it to the doe.

“Believe you’ll be needin’ these, Sylvia.” Holley gave a wide grin as Sylvia blinked the sun from her eyes, snatching the bag out of the air.

“Yer damn right! Let’s get these pirates off of our ship.” She pulled at the drawstring that held the satchel tight, pulling two shells from it and quickly sliding them into the chambers of her gun. With a familiar click, the firearm snapped upward, resting comfortably in Sylvia’s hands as she shouldered past Holley.

“You got it, ma’am.” With a playful salute, the cougar followed her friend.

The ship was nothing terribly special, an old catch they had found hull deep in the side of an abandoned dock. Within a matter of weeks, Holley had gotten the thing looking passable–and by the time they set sail on their own, it was more than suitable for the adventure they were looking for.

Five glistening solar sails fluttered in the wind, fabric inlaid with wire and glass contraptions that caught the sun and powered the rumbling engines below. Fire and smoke trailed after the aerial schooner in a bellowing haze. Only more impressive were the crew members that swung from the rigging above, crashing down into their adversaries that had dared cross paths with the Serenity.

As the two descended the stairs below deck, wasted no time as she leapt forward. From just around the doe, Holley could see the body of the pirate, forced into the wall and sliding to the ground. Sylvia paused just long enough to ensure the pirate was knocked cold before continuing around the landing.

“That’s one.” the doe said.

Holley shook her head, scanning the hallways. They were covered in bullet holes and crushed wood, marred by the invasion. The crew had seen worse in the past, but she wouldn’t let a group of rowdy drunks muck up her ship without her having a word or two with them.

She kept close to Sylvia, hand clenching her pistol like a vise. She was more than capable of keeping herself safe, but it never hurt to be a little careful.

The two made their way deeper in, the sounds of gunfire picking up as they turned into the hallway. With a sudden shout, Holley heard the shotgun’s stock colliding with something. She craned her neck to pear around her friend, seeing the unfortunate pirate slump to the ground.

“That’s two,” said Holley.

“I’m in the lead.” A smirk crossed Sylvia’s face as she fell into a jog down the hallway.

Gunfire whizzed past as the two stopped just short of the split hallway. Sylvia opted to throw herself into the fray, crashing to the ground and rolling behind a stack of crates for cover. With another shout, the doe leaned over the top, letting two bursts of pellets pepper the crates that protected the group of pirates down the way.

As an opening presented itself, Holley dashed past Sylvia, sliding into another stack of crates not much further away. The moment her body hit the boxes, her pistol flew loose of its holster, letting a bullet find its mark in the shoulder of an unsuspecting foe.

“One for me!”

“Alright, that’s it!” In the same moment that the spent shells clattered to the ground, the shotgun snapped back into place, its owner rising from her cover to charge down the hallway. With a fierce grunt, she crashed into the crates that one pirate was hiding behind, forcing them to topple over the unsuspecting wolf. Little trace of him was visible in the mountain of wood and iron scrap that engulfed him.

Sylvia fired another pair of blasts into the crates before her as her attention came to the remaining wolf. With the new hole carved into the crates, she threw her fist through the splintered wood and gripped the shirt of the pirate, pulling him forward to slam him into the box. The pirate fell to the floor, knocked cold by the sudden force.

“Four!” Sylvia gave a wiry grin. She was having far too much fun with this.

Holley merely laughed, holstering her gun as she ran down the hallway. “More footsteps this way! Ya better keep up.”

A deep rumble shook the ship, threatening both girls’ footing. There was a pause as they realized what was happening. The cougar’s ears flattened against her head, looking toward the deck.

“That was the engine! We’ve gotta move!”

“It’s fine. The sails should keep us in the sky, ri—?” Sylvia’s words came to an abrupt stop as the ground lurched, forcing the two to the floor. A sharp dip followed as they slid back down the hallway, the ship plummeting toward the ground. In a hurried scramble, they both clamored their way toward the stairs. It would be a few minutes before they were truly in danger of crashing, though if the antagonizing group of scoundrels kept at it, it was only a matter of time.

In a hurried scramble, the two rose on the uneven ground presented to them. Sylvia’s strides were tentative, struggling to keep her footing as she trudged her way to the stairs. The best she could do was to grip the sides of the ship where the damaged walls permitted.

Holley, on the other hand, was more accustomed to the unusual terrain. She skirted around her friend as she made her way up the staircase, deft footwork keeping her upright. Just beyond the staircase they had descended, she could see the fluttering sails of the ship. They whipped about violently, some of the rigging snapping under the strain.

Emerging from below deck, she could see the few members of her crew clinging to whatever support they could. Most wore rope tied to their waists to prevent falling from the ship entirely, though it did little to steady their stride on the schooner. There was a sense of relief as she realized none of the pirates remained on deck in any state that they could do more harm.

As Sylvia pulled herself from the stairway, she also took a moment to survey their vessel. The engine was in a functional state, save for the cannonball that crushed a series of wires leading to the solar sails. The sails themselves had seen better days, although if Holley could get up there…

“Holley!” The doe turned to the cougar. “I need you up there to refit those panels. I gotta get this cannonball out of here.”

Holley stared at the sails, nodding her understanding after a moment of thought. “You got it!”

As the two sprang into motion, Sylvia swung her shotgun over her shoulder, sprinting toward the engines as they spewed smoke into the sky. Her thoughts raced as she examined the damaged machinery. “Damn it all… How the hell do I get this thing out?” The only response was the whistling of wind in her ears as the ship descended.

Holley had already started her ascent toward the sails along the rigging, netted rope serving as a familiar terrain for her. With skillful grace, she climbed toward her destination, a makeshift welder dangling from one hand while the other kept her steady along the spar. She fought with her hair as it trailed after her from above, the gust of wind obscuring her vision as she desperately sidled across the wooden beam.

The doe below had since taken a sturdy scrap plank from the ship and wedged it between the crushed metal and iron ball. She threw her entire weight into the leverage she had created, a strained groan snaking out between clenched teeth. The ball rolled slowly, scraping against the jagged steel, until it popped loose. Sylvia lurched forward, losing the resistance of the cannonball, only to catch herself along the railing of the ship. Now it was time for the hard part.

The faint sound of flames on metal was heard from above, overcome by the howling air around Holley as she welded the solar panels together. The pirates had done quite a number on their sails. She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest, her hands shaking as she tried to bind each of the small pieces together on the sails. It would have to work. Pulling her goggles aside, she looked down at her friend as the cannonball rolled off the side of the ship.

“Sylvia! The sails are ready!”

The doe turned back to the engine as she grabbed at stray wires and began connecting them. The sparks of electricity singed her finger tips one after another, but the pain was bearable in contrast to the alternative as the electricity skittered through her hands. She could hear the turbine spin, although it skipped and stuttered, erupting with more smoke each time.

“Holley, I need you down here!”

With the rope clenched in her hand, and with a deep breath, she leapt from the spar. She had done this enough times in the past, and yet her heart skipped a beat as the rope grew taught. Holley could feel a subtle thrum across the rope, and then another, and another.

There wasn’t enough time for her to do much else, aside from letting out an echoing howl as the cougar felt the weightlessness of her solo descent carry her through the air. She could hear Sylvia shouting her name, the sound of the rope snapping, the fading noise of the ship’s engine sputtering as it flickered to life.

Everything hit Holley at once as the cold water of the pond splashed around her. It was little more than a foot deep, and there were no fish to greet her. The large oak tree provided a comfortable shade, as always, as the feline lifted her head from the water, gasping her air as the sound of hooves clattered along the wooden rowboat.

Sylvia looked down at Holley, their eyes meeting as water trickled from nearly every inch of the cat. They were quiet for a moment, the only sound now being the drops of water around the feline.

Then a soft giggle.

Then uncontrollable laughter. Holley resigned to sit in the pond, eyes watering from the strength of their giggling fit. Sylvia had already doubled over, falling back in childish delight as the two took in what had happened.

Holley lifted the remnants of the rope swing, a tattered break at the end signaling what they had suspected. Her laughter settled as she lifted herself from the water and came around to where Sylvia was.

The doe was lying on the ground, catching her breath as the occasional chuckle slipped by. Seeing the feline, she wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up.

“Are you ok? That was a pretty big splash.”

Holley wrung her hair out as she sat in the boat, water still pouring from the young cougar. “Ah, I’ve been through worse. Ain’t a single scratch on me!” Her words were accented by a comical pose, flexing both arms as she grinned.

Sylvia couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, your dad’s probably gonna need to fix this up.”

“It’s ok, this i’nt the first time it’s happened.”

The two shared one last bit of laughter before pulling the book between the two of them.

After scanning the following pages, Holley sat back, her face caught in thought.

“You know, maybe we could write our own story!”

Sylvia cocked her head to the side, looking at the feline. “How do you mean?”

“We don’t need no book to tell us what adventures are out there! We can make our own!”

Holley hopped up and picked up a stick, taking on a dueling stance. “We could do sword fights and voyages and all kinds of things!”

“You think you can write a story? You barely even read!” Sylvia followed suit, striking her own “sword” against Holley’s.

“Well, yeah, but you don’t gotta read to write!” The feline retaliated, the sound of the sticks filling the fields as they went on. “Besides! That’s what I got you for.”

“Oh, really?” With a half smile, the doe lunged forward, pressing the tip of her stick against Holley’s chest. “Then I expect you to give me lots of ideas to write!”

With an attempted pout, the Holley chuckled.

“Fine.”