The humans were tidying up; that was my cue to slouch off the sofa and head to the door. I was the last thing they took care of every night, but I didn't mind too much. The house was warm, after all, and each of them gave me a pat on the head. Already it was dark, and it was hard for me to see beyond my own reflection in the glass door. The man clipped the leash to my collar and bid me a good night. I snuffled my response.

I took a quick trot around the perimeter of my yard, checking that all was as it should be, letting my nose lead the way. Above me in the dark, I heard the twittering of sleeping birds. They had had a long day, I had watched them fly back and forth with worms all afternoon. New babies, imagine that. The soft peeping that drifted through the open windows all afternoon was the background noise to me day.

Other than the birds, nothing stirred or sounded. No new scents captured my attention, either. Now that everything was good, I went to my blanket and rested my head on my paws.

I must have drifted off, because it seemed that seconds later the birds were chirping eagerly in my ear.

"He's coming, he's on his way, prepare, prepare!"

So I rose to my feet and sat waiting in the dim moonlight. The robins fluttered back to their nest to warm their young ones, and I was sad to see them go. They would not be joining us tonight, it would be only me and my Nightmaster

I barely heard the beating wings as my Nightmaster descended from above. He came on wings darker than the night itself, but I sure smelled him. He smelled of rain-wet grass, puppies and steak, which was a fabulous combination. Fabulous was a word that the middle-girl said a lot, and I'm pretty sure it means "good."

The robins peeped a greeting, and the winged non-human smiled in their direction. The young ones settled down, and I knew that the worms would be plentiful tomorrow, because the Nightmaster was kind to us animals. I had once asked why he isn't kind to the humans too, and he had answered in a funny way. He had said, "They do not wish it to be so. They are too concerned with self-reliance."

I didn't know for sure what that meant, but I was sad for the humans. They had to work extra hard, because the Nightmaster knew they didn't want his help. (He explained this to me after.) The humans could be strange sometimes, and they remained a bit of a mystery to me.

I heard a sudden scuffling at the edge of the fence, and I prickled my ears forward a bit, trying to catch the noise. At the top of the fence, two glowing eyes peered down at us, and I felt disappointed. My Nightmaster frowned at me, and then beckoned to the glowing points of light. Misty leapt down from the fence, and stalked through my grass toward us.

I didn't let go of the growl in my throat, but my tail stopped thumping against the ground. The non-human frowned even deeper, and he gestured at the cat to come closer. I lowered my eyes to the ground, trying to hide my hatred and my shame.

"I think the two of you have met before, haven't you? Misty? Leo?"

The cat purred, a tiny sneer on its face. I sniffed at her scent.

"I believe you owe her an apology, Leo."

I whimpered, curling my tail around my back leg. Some nights ago, on one of the moonless times when my Nightmaster doesn't come, Misty had tried to come into my yard, to sniff at the baby birds. I barked at her until she leaved, because I didn't like the way she was standing on the fence, like she owned it. The birds were safe, I knew she wouldn't attack them unless they asked her. Still, it was MY grass, and MY tree and MY fence.

"Sorry," I whimpered, and Misty's sneer grew bigger. But the non-human seemed happy about it, and soon enough, the cat and I were tentative friends. Now, my Nightmaster beat his wings on the air, and was about to fly into the darkness. I moved after him, whining in excitement. He smiled down at me, perhaps happy at my excitement, and he touched my eyes and then my shoulder. I felt tinglings, and then – and then I was as he is, with great wings and sharp vision even in the darkness. At my side, the cat had produced similar wings at my Nightmaster's touch, and was already springing into the air.

"Where to, Sire?"

The non-human was already flying across the moon, and he called back to us.

"Beyond the country, across the seas, and into the deserts of sorrow. We go forth to bring springs of joy into thirsting souls."

Misty purred and stroked her wings. Although I didn't always understand what my Nightmaster told me, I could feel what he meant. Off to bring cheer to ones who deserved it, that was tonight's mission. I, too, leapt into the air and beat my wings in the air. Together, I, Misty and the non-human coasted off into the world, leaving my collar and chain behind.