Kung fu panda is the property of dreamworks animation studios. I claim no ownership of either the original characters, storyline, ideas or concepts.

The rays of the sun, bathing the land bellow in golden light, drove away the darkness and cold of the night, heralded the arrival of another day, this one promising to be more welcoming than the previous.

A thick layer of snow, the leavings of the ominous clouds of the previous day, covered the landscape as far as the eye could see, in a blanket of pristine white. Although the snow, as yet undisturbed and unblemished by any paw, hoof or wheel, looked bright, soft and welcoming, it signaled the early arrival of winter in these parts of the land, despite the fact that the leaves of the trees had only recently turned.

Not satisfied with its victory over the night, the sun seemed determined to continue its battle against the snow, and stave off the untimely arrival of the winter season. It was not long before the sound of water drops, falling from leaves up high, could be heard dashing against the layer of snow below, replacing the tranquil silence, of a forest at sleep, with the cacophony of a cloudless rain.

However, it was not long before other sounds joined that of the dripping leaves.

The crunch of snow being trod underfoot, the sound of voices and laughter, and then, the whistling of displaced air, and the 'Thunk!' As an arrow hit the solid trunk of a tree.

"YES!"

The exclamation seemed to echo across the empty forest as a young tiger dashed along a path, now hidden under a layer of thawing snow, to retrieve his arrow embedded in the solid trunk of a tree.

The young tiger, his body dressed in dark brown, rough-spun clothing that had clearly seen better days, a greying, green cloak billowing around him and a bow clutched in his right paw, dashed across the landscape, seemingly unencumbered by the weight of the pack strapped to his back, vaulted a cluster of rocks and finally came to a halt in front of the body of the tree in which his arrow was imbedded.

With a grunt of exertion, he pulled the shaft free, and dashed back the way he had come, back towards the road where, arms crossed and an expression of mild disbelief on his face, an older tiger was waiting.

"HA!" with a look of supreme smugness the youngling thrust forward the arrow, holding it up and away from himself, so that the older tiger could inspect it freely.

A dumpling, skewered by the arrow, and now resting halfway down its shaft, was slowly dripping its contents out through the growing puncture made by the entry of the arrow, and spilling it down onto the snow-covered ground, making uneven, jagged holes in the yet undisturbed snow.

"You cheated! You must have placed it there while I wasn't looking."

The accusation was made with no real force behind the words, showing that the older tiger was speaking in jest. Truly, he had not lost sight of his son for even a single second while he retrieved the arrow, and he was quite certain that he had seen the arrow strike the dumpling in midair as well, impossible as it may have seemed.

Still, his son's eyes, bright yellow and orange, with black round pupils, grew large with shock.

"NO! I hit it fair and square! You saw me do it, I have been practicing forever!"

At the sound of the exasperation in the boys voice he could not help but grin. He ruffled the unruly tuft of black and white fur atop his son's head, a mischievous smile on his lips before he continued walking down the snow-covered path.

"Alright, alright I believe you. It just seems incredible that you have grown so skillful in such a short while that's all."

Standing in stunned silence, seemingly surprised that the older tiger was only jesting, the youngling watched as his father made his way through the shin high snow, as if waiting for him to turn around and resume his argument. Then, glancing down at the arrow still in his hand, he quickly tore off the dumpling and crammed it in his mouth before running up to walk besides his father.

"sooo… does that mean I get that bow then?"

The question was asked tentatively, as if fearing rejection. In truth Rong had not believed that his son could have hit the dumpling he had tossed. He was still amazed and, he had to admit, quite proud as well.

Having begged and plagued his father for what felt like half a lifetime to allow him to get his own true bow, Rong had finally relented, and promised him that, if he grew skillful enough, he would get his own bow, made by a craftsman.

After they had broken camp, wanting an early start of the day with the prospect of getting home before nightfall, Jun had once more made his argument that since he had grown so competent with his bow it was time for him to get a proper adult one, fitted by a real bowyer.

The one he used now was not poorly made, as opposed to the scores of others that the boy had crafted over the years, but it just wasn't anywhere near as good as the real thing. After all, Rong was a blacksmith, and so had been teaching his son the secrets of bending iron to his will, but the secret to making a good, durable bow was quite beyond him.

In truth the boy spent nearly as much time training with the thing as he spent helping his father in the forge, though where he found the time and the energy he would never know.

The long trip from the town back to the village was boring, and, for a young cub filled with energy, the trip could seem especially mind-numbing. To keep his son occupied Rong would sometimes point out targets for his son, a tree, a branch, a strange marking on the ground, and Jun would then attempt to hit the target while on the move and as quickly as possible.

These past few years Jun had steadily improved, when he had first joined his father on his monthly trips into Gonjang, a town only three days' journey from their remote village, he had hardly been able to hit the general area of the targets when standing still. Now, despite Rong steadily increasing the range and decreasing the size of the targets he pointed out, Jun hit every single target without fail, even when he was moving at a brisk pace to keep up with his father.

He glanced at his son, now nearer his fourteenth summer than to his thirteenth. He was looking back at him, his face a mask of innocence and patience, his tail however, swishing every which way, betraying his excitement.

He gave a deep sigh.

"Alright, a promise is a promise. Next time we go into Gonjang, you'll get your blasted bow."

Hearing this Jun's face lit up, a broad smile revealing rows of sharp fangs split his face, he jumped into the air, pumping his fists in victory and let out a victorious yell.

Their journey from that point seemed to go much easier than before. As if given supernatural endurance and speed by the fulfilment of Jun's most fervent wish, they seemed to clear the miles at an exhausting pace.

Despite the snow slowly melting, turning the earthen path muddy, and the late autumn sun shining down from a cloudless sky, a rising eastern wind prevented it from dispelling the remaining chill, but these things failed in making the trip unpleasant. Still they ate on the move, not wanting to let the heat of their bodies be sucked out by the increasingly cold wind.

Cresting a rise of an especially steep hill, Rong had to lean against a nearby tree to catch his breath. 'when did I get this old?' he wondered as he watched Jun ahead, bounding along the trail.

At first, his wife had objected to him bringing Jun along, saying that he was too young for the journey. But now, as the years had passed, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps it wasn't him who was getting too old. Although, remembering back, she had said the same thing when he had brought Jiang on these trips as well.

Having his sons help him carry his wares from the forge into town, and bring back goods he needed, had allowed him to steadily bring more business both ways. Of course, initially, Jiang, his eldest, and Jun had only accompanied him so he could teach them the necessary skills of bartering and haggling for when they would set up their own workshops, but now Jiang was working back in the forge, and he and Jun were making the journey, and by now, Jun was more than carrying his part of the baggage, and Rong had to wonder where he got his strength from.

Shaking his head, he pushed off the tree and resumed his walk, the pack hanging on his back seeming to weight a good deal more than it had earlier that day. With effort, he soon caught up to his son, who had slacked off a bit to let his father catch up.

"So old man, had to take a breather?"

The question was asked with lightness, his Jun knew that he had set the pace a good deal higher than what normally suited his father. But still…

"If you don't watch out you can carry both these packs. Besides, I swear that hill gets steeper every trip I make."

Jun just laughed at that. They crested another hill, this one was actually steeper than the other, but it afforded a majestic view once one reached the top, and from it they could finally see their village.

In the distance, nestled between two hills, with a small river running through it, was the village. It was a small affair, a collection of about two score of houses and a number of workshops of different sizes. It was surrounded by large patches of trees. On the sloping hillsides were rice-paddies, interrupted here and there by outlying farmhouses.

Smoke rose from the chimneys of the village, thin trails of it blowing in the strong wind, creating streaks of gray in the otherwise blue sky. Already his sharp eyes could make out figures milling about down there, despite the village still being quite some ways off. He thought he could make out the large figure of Guo, an ox, and the village's unofficial foreman, though he was only able to distinguish him because of the fact that most of the other villagers were either pigs, sheep or gazelles.

And there, a little ways off from the cluster of houses at the heart of the village, was his home and forge. He breathed an involuntary sigh of relief. Though he had fully expected to find it intact upon his return, he still felt a little anxious every time he had to leave it.

He could see many of his neighbors and friends in the village closing their workshops for the day. Most of the inhabitants of the small village were carpenters and craftsmen, turning the surrounding trees, apparently of a very special sort he had been told, into any number of beautifully crafted items that were in high demand across the province. Nor were their art confined to their wares, but also their own houses, most made of timber, were beautifully decorated with dragons, symbols and wishes of good fortune and health carved into the beams, timbers and doors of most of the houses. Creating a beautiful scene.

As they started their descend into the valley bellow, he breathed in all the scents of home.

He could see the smoke rising from the workshop, a sure sign that his older brother, Jiang, was hard at work. He could remember a time, many years ago now it seemed, when both he and Jiang had been too small to help their father in the workshop, and their dad had had to close down the forge while he made the week long journey to the Town and back, and even when Jiang had been old enough to travel with him to town, Jun himself had been far too young to tend the forge.

Jiang, five years Jun's senior, had made the trip with their father until he had turned fifteen, by then he had learned most of what their father had had to teach him and could be relied upon to tend the forge and keep it running.

Jun ran a paw covered in dirt through the fur atop his head. He had been so jealous of his brother back then. None of the other kids in the village really wanted to play with him, they were afraid of his claws and his teeth, and the fact that he accidently broke stuff all the time. His dad said it wasn't really his fault. It was just that tigers were naturally stronger than most other species, like rhinos and elephants, he just had to learn to control his strength.

But it wasn't just that. His brother got to spend time with their father one on one. Away from the house. When Jiang talked to him about it, it was like they had this special bond because of it, that they shared secrets.

To pass the time, waiting for his brother and his dad to return, he had started to whittle, make thing out of wood. He hadn't been very good at it at first, but he had gotten able to make small thing in the end.

Then one day, a strange traveler had passed through their village. It was another cat, though at the time Jun didn't know what, just assuming that it was an oddly colored tiger. He remembered the encounter vividly.

He was no more than six years old, or maybe younger, and he had stared at the spotted feline, who was doing her best to not seem to embarrassed by the attention she was being given, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Where are all your stripes? Did you have an accident when you were small?"

His mother, horrified by his impertinent question had apologized profusely.

"I'm so sorry master Min, he is normally such a well behaved little cub!"

The traveler had raised her paws to placate her host, a smile brightening her features.

"Peace Mrs. Xun, the cub is just curious, no harm done."

Then she had leaned down, so that her eyes were level with his.

"No little one, I did not have an accident. You see, I was born with spots, I'm a leopard."

He had nodded slowly, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that not all felines were tigers, despite looking a lot alike. For someone who grew up in a small village with only his family as reference, that was a big discovery.

Then he had glanced at the odd contraption slung around her back. He had pointed at it before asking.

"What is that?"

She had unslung her bow to show him, and then, perhaps wanting to entertain him and the others while she was waiting for his father to finish his task, had picked up her quiver, walked over to the tree line, and proceeded to give them a display of archery skill and acrobatics the likes of which he had never seen.

Jumping twirling, tossing pinecones into the air, only to shoot them before they hit the ground, she would jump onto a branch, do a backflip and shoot her target before landing perfectly balanced again, firing a second arrow after her first, striking at the exact same mark.

Afterwards, she retrieved her arrows and returned to find him in a state of shocked awe.

"That. Was. AWESOME!"

She had smiled at that. Then held out her bow.

"Want me to show you how?"

She had given him a few tips on how to use a bow, although at the time he had been unable to even pull the string. He had been distraught to discover that the level of skill required to duplicate her display would not come from a single day of training, but rather years of exercise, practice, and meditation then he would be able to obtain what she had called kung fu.

From then on, whenever he had had a few minutes to himself, he had practiced. He had learned how to make a bow (though more through trial and error than from actually being taught) and he had slowly improved his skill. He still did the stretches and the exercises she had taught him to this day.

Of course, it had been an uphill struggle, his practice had been unstructured, his progress slow and hindered by his lack of knowledge, and the fact that no one in the village knew how to shoot or how to do most of the thinks the master had shown him. But he did make some progress, even going so far as to discover what kung fu actually was, though his parents had disagreed a little on the finer points of the meaning when they explained it.

Then had come the day when he was old enough to accompany their father into town, and all thoughts of archery and Kung Fu was momentarily forgotten.

It was exactly as he had imagined it would be, based on the stories his older brother had told him. They spend the whole day together, sun up to sun down, they talked, his father did most of the talking, and they learned, Jun did most of the learning.

His father taught him basic survival, how to start a fire how to build a shelter, how to find edible roots and plants, and to distinguish which were helpful, and which were poisonous (although his mother proved to be more knowledgeable in that department and saw to mend some gaps in his knowledge). His father even taught him how to set some traps and how to fight with a spear and some basic fencing. Saying that he hoped that he would never need to use those skills.

He knew that his father had served in the army, or something like it, in his younger days, fighting for the emperor in some far off war. His mother had told him not to ask him about it, his brother had said the same thing. For some reason, it was something he did not want to talk about.

He learned how to navigate using only the sun, the stars and what the plants and trees told him, he learned how to tie knots and how to treat wounds (They mostly practiced on sticks wrapped in blankets with 'wounds' in them, though sometimes, they got to practice on cuts and bruises they earned themselves).

Most of the trips were pleasant, although initially, it had been hard for him to keep pace with his father. He set a grueling pace and though he did not overburden Jun he still pushed him to walk some twenty to thirty miles every day when they travelled. As he got more used to it, that was increased to forty miles. Sometimes however, the weather made the necessary trip hard and arduous. Like the time it poured down every day on the whole trip, or the time they had to wade through snowdrifts that went up to their waists. And then of course there was that one time his father decided to have 'the talk' with him. Yeah, that was perhaps the worst one.

One day, after his father had decided to let him run lose in the town, he stumbled upon an odd looking shop. Intrigued, he had entered, browsing, searching through the chest and shelves piled with junk. There he had found two scrolls. One about the art of archery, the other about something called tai chi.

Though he was perhaps not as good at reading and writing as he ought to be, he was still able to comprehend enough of the scrolls to know that he simply had to have them.

It cost him every yuan he had saved, but in the end it was so totally worth it.

He improved in leaps and bounds, he read and re-read both the scrolls so that even his reading skill improved. Although his brother taunted him, he didn't care. He loved it

He was suddenly startled out of his thoughts, and realized that he they had walked the rest of the way down from the hill and was now nearing the edge of the village. He could smell cooking, and hear the sound of conversation. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten since lunch several hours ago. He had noticed that his stomach seemed to desire an increasing amount of food, and blushed as his mind was brought back to that singularly unpleasant experience of his father talking about… stuff.

"Sorry, I was miles away, did you say something?"

His farther smiled.

"Only that it's good to be home."

Jun rolled his eyes. He glanced around, looking at the familiar houses and the familiar faces. Sure, he liked it here, he liked the people well enough, most were nice, even though they were a little afraid of him, and he liked the houses and the fields and the rice-paddies. It was just all so… Boring. Nothing ever really happened. Nothing ever really changed. Mrs. Yu had had the same items on display for as long as he could remember, and apart from the new addition to Feng's house none of the buildings were really new either.

They made their way through the village, waving and greeting their neighbors and friends, though after a week on the road, they were anxious to get home and the other villagers, knowing the habits of the two tigers, knew better than to disturbed them before after they had had a hot meal, and a warm bed.

As they cleared the far edge of the village, a pleasant sight greeted them. The sun, dipping down below the crest of the surrounding hills, bathed the scene in an orange glow, the same glow that came from the fire of the hearth in the house, and the one in the forge, both of which were blazing in the evening chill, all of which illuminated the scene of their home.

A small house, its foundation set slightly into the side of the hill, was sat near the edge of the forest, its thatched roof glistening as the setting sun reflected in the refreezing water droplets still nestled in hidden nooks and crannies. A stone dyke bordered a patch of rocky, cultivated land where, not long ago, had grown cabbages, carrots and tomatoes, now it sat barren, awaiting the winter season.

The walls were made of stone, rocks tilled from the surrounding land and piled on top of each other to make stout, solid walls that kept the rain and the wind at bay, while keeping the heat of the hearth in.

Some ways of, nearer a stream that joined the larger river running through the village, was the workshop. It consisted of a forge, its sides made of rocks, but with one of the sides left open, so as to be able to let the heat escape during the summer months, and the roof made of solid timbers, as not to present too much of a fire hazard, and a workshop adjoining it to the side, where They could work and fiddle with the metal shielded from the blazing heat of the forge.

The ringing of metal on metal showed that Jiang was still hard at work in the forge, no doubt hurrying to complete the last few orders before his father and brother returned, however their angle of approach shielded him from their view.

"you think your mother has made mapo tofu?"

He could almost hear his father drooling, just by asking the question. Jun inhaled deeply, picking up the familiar scents of burnt wood, the smell of ozone from the forge, wet grass, and there, on the wind, just a hint of something else. Something delicious.

"Sure smells like it."

Jun rushed the last few steps, determined to get home first to surprise his mother, and gently pushed open the door. The well-oiled hinges made hardly a sound as it opened under his paw, and he gently crossed the threshold.

He entered the main chamber of his family-home, a kitchen and dining area, a square table with four three-legged stools taking up center position, all well-worn and covered in various dents, cuts and other superficial damage.

In the area furthest from the door leading outside, was the kitchen, a stove with a workstation next to it, shelves filled with jars and bowls containing different spices and vegetables. Hanging from the roof were several bands of drying herbs and garlic. Various pots, pans and kitchen utensils were placed on hooks hammered into the stone wall, giving the whole area a feeling of ordered chaos, remarkably resembling the inside of a workshop.

There, standing with her back to him, bend over the stove to inspect whatever she was cooking, was his mother. She was not much larger than him, even at thirteen he was already growing to be quite tall and broad, but she was by no means small. Years of hard work, tilling the land, repairing the house, helping her husband in the forge and looking after two rowdy sons had given her a strong, robust physique that did nothing to diminish her beauty. She was graceful in a way neither her sons or her husband could ever hope to be, seemingly able to handle an impossible number of tasks at once, she was a whirlwind in the house, and, as the three men in the house knew all too well, she had eyes everywhere. Nothing escaped her notice.

"You're home early."

The statement seemed to deflate Jun as he stood, on leg bent over a stool, both arms raised to shock her when he was in position.

"Aww, how did you know I was there?"

His mother turned, her face beaming, dimples in her cheeks showing that it was something she did often, and embraced him.

"A mother always knows where her cubs are."

She gently broke the embrace, looking him up and down, her eyes growing critical. She sniffed, and made an unpleasant face.

"That, and the fact that you and your father both smell like you haven't bathed properly for weeks."

His father's voice, mock outrage dripping from every syllable, filled the house.

"One would almost think we had been journeying for days through the wilderness, braving the wrath of the weather-spirits."

His parents embraced and shared a long kiss, forcing Jun to look away awkwardly.

"Go wash up, dinner is almost ready, and I've put out fresh clothes for both of you in the workshop."

Jun grimaced. He knew that arguing would get him nowhere, but he did NOT look forward to a cold dip in the stream, now undoubtedly almost freezing.

He and his father both sighed heavily, put down their backpacks, and their other belongings, stripped of their shirt and shoes, and started to walk down towards the stream. The cold wind hit his bare fur, but did little to leech away the heat. He knew that it would be a different story once he hit the freezing water of the stream.

He stopped in his tracks, ears perking up. Something was off. He listened, trying to determine what was wrong. It didn't take him long before he realized that he could no longer her Jiang in the forge.

He only had a split second to react. Out of the corner of his eyes, a flash of orange, black and white dashed from the corner of the forge, rushing towards him.

He set his feet wide, braced with his legs and got ready to roll with the force of the impact.

When it struck him, it felt like a hammer-blow. His brother, aiming low, going after his stomach, bowled into him and would have sent them both flying in a mess of waving limbs if it wasn't because Jun had been prepared.

Sliding one foot behind the other and grabbing hold around his brother, he pirouetted on the spot and, using his own momentum against him, tossed him in the direction he had come.

His brother, digging in his claws, making deep cuts in the ground, halted his flight and launched himself against Jun once more.

Trying to trap his head in a lock grip under his armpit, Jiang was relying on his superior size and strength to win the wrestling match, and Jun, trying to use his dexterity and what little he had picked up from reading the scrolls, was doing everything in his power to prevent him from getting into a position where that would happen.

But, as was usually the outcome of these impromptu sparring matches, Jiang soon had his younger brother pinned in the dirt.

After savoring his victory for a few sweet seconds, he got off Jun's back and, helping him up from the ground, and said in a voice tinged by fatigue.

"You have gotten better. I think this time you lasted a full two minutes."

Jiang's voice was deeper than Jun's, sounding more like their father. Jun looked up at him, seeing fresh beads of sweet forming on his brow that had nothing to do with the heat of the forge.

His brother was a good deal bigger than him, standing a head taller. Years of working in the forge had given him a barrel chest, and large bulging arms that he used every opportunity to display, going so far as to remove most of the sleeves of his shirts. His fur was matted with sot, making him look very dark, a break in the thick carpet of black grime, revealing white fur underneath, shoved where he had been wearing an apron to protect his fur from any sparks and flames that might catch.

"I almost had you there you big oaf. Next time, you'll see."

His brother just grinned and slapped him on his now, dirt covered back. In truth, these matches, previously having been very short and one-sided, was turning into a real contest. His brother, despite his larger build and strength, was not very agile or fast. And Jun, improving every day, was closing the gap in skill that sheer brawn had given his brother.

They joined their father down by the stream, stripping off the last of their clothes so that they might wash away the dirt and grime that covered them. Jun, biting down hard so as not to make an undignified yelp as the ice water hit him, quickly ducked under the water and furiously scrubbed the dirt and sweat from his fur, taking great care not to leave an unseen patch of dirt hidden in the darker stripes of his fur, before sprinting into the warm workshop to get dressed.

Rushing inside, he was greeted by a wall of heat so at odds with the cold outside that for a moment he had trouble breathing in the enclosed space. But once his body got use to the disparity in temperature, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Standing close to the forge, waiting for his wet fur to dry, he glanced around at his surrounding, trying to determine which projects his brother had been working on. Eyeing a row of swords and spearheads that had remained undisturbed since last week, he saw that his brother had elected to do more of the menial tasks instead, crafting light tools and hinges and such that the people of the village relied upon. Though they did not bring in as much coin, they had a responsibility to keep their neighbors supplied, or at least, that's what their father said.

The forge wasn't large, and could be quite cramped when both he, his brother and their father was in here, but now, it seemed spacious, the usual piles of goods and commissions laying discarded here and there were gone, replaced with an almost unnatural emptiness brought on by the week long absence of two thirds of the workers. The pit, a large, circular basin of stones filled with the white glowing embers took up center position, the large bellows cutting the place neatly in half, with a workstation on either side.

Two anvils, one for his father and one for his brother, flanked either side of the pit, a bucket of water and a water trough on either side of them. Tools, hammers, tongs and the like, were neatly lined up either side.

He could see a not insubstantial number of new nails piled into a bucket in the corner of the forge and was silently grateful that Jiang had taken care of the order from Bao. He so despised making nails, and it was usually his job, as the most junior of the trio, to take care of such easy orders.

Hearing the others rushing up to the forge behind him, he hurried into the workshop where, true to her words, his mother had laid out some clean clothes, these ones more comfortable than his dirty traveling clothes, although not less worn.

They were an ill fit, the trousers were too wide and too short, the shirt was too broad around the chest and hung loosely around his shoulders. Both of them were made for the larger frame of his brother when he had been a couple of years older than Jun. The majority of his clothes were his brother's old rags, handed down to him. It wasn't that his family was poor, not as far as he knew anyway, it was just that his parents did not see the need to buy new clothes when it seemed that Jun outgrew most of what he got after only a few months, and what he didn't outgrow, he tore up through his 'antics' as they called it.

He didn't really mind. Not a lot anyway. Most of the other kids in the village wore their older sibling's clothes. He supposed he should just be grateful that he didn't have half a dozen older sibling to go through it before him.

His father and brother joined him, both quickly getting dressed before all three of them heading inside.

After inspecting all of them to make sure they hadn't just rinsed off and then run in, she let them sit down one by one and, finding their decree of cleanliness to be satisfactory, laid out the still steaming food. As the smell hit his nostrils, Jun's stomach gave an audible protest, earning him an appreciative look from his mother.

"someone sounds hungry."

He grinned and shrugged. He couldn't help it.

During the meal, while he was busy shoving food into his mouth, his father talked about the prices in the market, how the cost of ore and metal seemed to keep rising, and how they would need to stock up on supplies before the winter would freeze them out.

"If a storm hits us, we'll sit cold for months. Might have to make two trips next months to stock up so we won't sit idle."

His brother voiced his accent, before launching into a detailed description of the commissions they had received in their absence.

"… And Bao wants another set of carpenter's tools. Seems his son has almost finished his apprenticeship and wants to move to the City."

His father gave a deep sigh.

"Seems all the young ones are moving to Gongmen. Well I wish the boy luck then, he's a skillful craftsman, I'm sure he'll find work."

Jun glanced nervously up at his father. It was true that most of the younger kids in the village wanted to travel to Gongmen, either to find jobs or simply to escape from the monotonous daily village life. Jun had never gone himself, but had heard many tales of the largest city in the province from Guo, as the old man traveled there at least once every year, and Jun himself had a secret wish to one day make the journey.

He had not told his parents however, knowing that it would probably break their hearts if they knew that he was secretly harboring dream of adventure in far off lands that would take him far away from the village and his family. He would miss them of course, and make every effort to come and visit, but he just couldn't envision himself living out his life here.

Of course, news had reached them of trouble in the far off city. News of the return of Lord Shen, at the head of an army of wolves, news of a new and terrifying weapon that spat fire and pulverized rock. And of course, news of a legendary fight between the Peacock and the Dragon warrior.

None knew how much stock to put in such stories. It wouldn't be the first time embellished tales had reached their village, but still, if only a quarter of what they heard was true…

As if suddenly remembering something important, his father quickly piped in.

"Speaking of skillful, we'll have to buy Jun a bow the next time we're in Gonjang."

Both his mother and brother perked up. Both of them looking at Jun.

"Oh?" his mother asked, suddenly very interested to hear what had brought this on.

His father nodded while a prideful smile spread across Jun's face.

"I shot a Dumpling out of the air at at least sixty paces."

His father nodded at the disbelieving face of his brother.

"It's true, tossed it myself, saw it with my own eyes."

His brother dug into his food, making a non-comital grunt.

"Seems your skills are wasted at the forge. Perhaps you should join the Imperial army instead of following in our father footsteps."

His tone was not too harsh, but it still cut Jun. He knew that his brother did not like that he seemed to care more about learning to shoot and fight than he cared about learning to smith. His mother, sensing the age-old argument about to rise again, cut him off.

"We'll have none of that now."

She rose from the table and started clearing it.

"You should be glad on your brother's behalf, surely you do not begrudge him a prize well earned?"

His brother remained silent, but shook his head lightly.

Suddenly, his belly full of hot food and the hardships of the day finally catching up to him, he excused himself and went into the room he shared with his brother.

It wasn't large, it barely had room for the two sleeping-mats and the two boxes that contained their belongings, but it was plenty for Jun. Hung on one wall was a number of quivers with arrows, some in less complete states than others, while along the other wall was sets of drawing and notes on how to maintain balance while firing in various positions, and how to make a proper bow.

There was a clear divide between his side, and Jiang's side. While Jun's was a temple of all things archery, Jiang kept only a few, decorative posters on his side, mostly relating to ancient heroes or legendary weapon smiths. When it came to forging and smithing Jiang was a real fanboy.

The room was unlit, but Jun knew were everything was, besides, he hardly needed any light to see during the dark anyway. Another perk of being a cat.

Sticking his head out through the door, he bid his family good night, and, finding his mat, he discarded his shirt before tucking under the thick blanket. It wasn't long before he drifted off into sleep.

AN:

Hello everyone :)

So I've had an idea for a KFP fanfic for a long time and decided to finally write it. Although uploading new chapters may take a while, between school, studies, the job and other duties. I will strive to publish a chapter at the very least once every two weeks.

I will admit that my writing skills might leave something to be desired, so I'm hoping for lots of feedback, especially in the more important areas. Please R/R.

Hope to upload another chapter soon.