“Answer me this, Sha-Dow. Why do cats paint?”The Burning Man’s voice had boomed out over the desert and it was the question that had guided Sha-Dow’s quest ever since. He had journeyed so far and so wide and seen such things but he still felt no closer to wisdom. His sensei, Oran-JeDesh, had cuffed him and called him a fool but Sha-Dow knew that the in the answer lay the end of his quest. If only he could unravel the riddle!
Now here he was again, many moons later, in the midst of the trackless wastes and the Burning Man lay broken in front of him. Sha-Dow had tried to hold back the angry mob but there were too many and their pitchforks had been cruelly sharpened. He had had to watch as they broke him and took his burning brands leaving nothing but a smoking wreck.
“Come closer, little Sha-Dow,” the smoking man whispered, as the last of his strength drained away.
“But why did they do it? Why did they hurt you? What harm had you done them?”
“It is their nature. They fear what they do not understand, they…” the man paused to cough, his chest nothing but soot. “They stole my fire to torch more strangers. Still, they have stolen more than they realise. Fire creates as it destroys.” His voice trailed off and suddenly Sha-Dow felt that he almost grasped the answer. Why do cats paint?
Sha-Dow nuzzled the remnants of the Burning Man, comforting him in his final moments. He felt rather than heard one last, almost grateful sigh as the Burning Man’s fire went out and, suddenly, there was nothing left but ash. And then Sha-Dow smiled because suddenly he knew the answer. He knew why it is that cats paint and he knew what he must do.
As he turned to leave, the ashes stirred in the wind and although Sha-Dow did not see it, for a second, they formed a smile.
