Warm. That was the first good thing here.

The place the small one had hidden away inside hummed. It wasn’t an angry hum of danger. It was a steady hum of movement. The kind that meant food would come soon, and nothing was trying to eat you.

The small one curled deeper into the cables in the forgotten nook. This new place smelled wrong, metal, heat and sharpness. But there was a softness between the hard things, and this was one of them.

It didn’t want to leave the bright ship with quiet voices. But sometimes doors opened and sometimes doors closed, sometimes you were still inside when they closed and then the world changes.

This new world growled, not one growl, lots. Deep voices vibrated through the walls and the floor. Very loud and sharp.

The small one didn’t like sharp.

It tried to press itself flatter, fur puffing uneasily.

There were no soft voices here, no calming smells. Only metal and heat.

This ship felt alive, very different from the other ship, this one felt older, stronger and angrier.

It was interesting…. Scary.

The small one peaked out. Just a little at first.

A corridor stretched away in both directions, dark and narrow. The lights here glowed red and not white like the old place.

A Shadow passed, heavy footsteps.

The small one did not wait to see what made them. It scrambled back to its hiding place. It pressed itself against the warm metal until the footsteps faded.

No, No thank you it thought.

Still the ship kept moving. The small one could feel it. It would feel the stars sliding by, fast and bright, though it couldn’t see them from here.

It wondered where they were going. The soft ship had always stopped; people came and went and gentle hands reached for fur and warmth.

Here nothing stopped.

There was only movement, always forward.

The small one waited. Waiting was easy, it was survival.

But hunger was not patient. Eventually curiosity pushed harder than caution.

The small one slipped out its hiding spot. It moved low and hugged shadows. It followed smalls that promised crumbs and warmth.

It found pipes that hummed pleasantly. Corners where the ship forgot itself and left the quiet behind. This place had many loud areas but there were also many soft pockets hidden from others.

It liked the soft pockets.

The floor underneath suddenly shuddered. Dust fell from the ceiling and metal banged together.

The small one froze; something was wrong.

The hum changed here, dropped lower and rougher. A feeling like the small one got when it was tired.

The lights dimmed.

Even the growling voices changed, they were quieter. The small one felt it inside itself, this place was hurting.

It curled into a tighter ball, pressing hard against the warm pipe which had grown colder.

For a long time nothing happened, then slowing the warmth returned. The hum steadied. The ship had healed itself, or the loud ones had fed it and made it full.

The small one didn’t know what ships ate. It only knew that it now felt better and the danger had passed.

Satisfied that it was safe, the small one ventured further.

It found a room full of strange smells. Food, but one food it wanted. This was wet and moving, it tasted sharp and bitter in ways that made its fur twitch.

It left quickly. Not all food was safe and this was not for the small one.

It found another soft place behind stacked containers. The vibrations here were gentler, like it was tucked into other creature’s fur. It felt kinder, it was still rough but it was protective.

The small one slept. It dreamed of bright lights and gentle voices, of hands that did not shout. It dreamed of stars that did not rush by so quickly.

When it woke the ship was loud again. It felt more confident.

The small one had learned something important, this was not a ship that stopped to rest. It was one that carried on regardless. That made sense. The loud voices were like this to. Not cruel, but relentless.

The small one stayed hidden though. Days past, or maybe just long moments. It was hard to tell inside this metal ship that did not care about suns and nighttime.

Sometimes the ship shook with thunder, sometimes it sang with other engines. Sometimes is was quiet.

Once it smelt like something familiar. Another small one? It thought. But no, not here. The scent faded quickly. Perhaps just a memory of before.

Whether a memory or not, the thought made the small one feel less alone.

One day the hum changed again, not tired this time. It felt different.

Movement slowed, the small one felt the shift before it understood it. They were arriving somewhere.

Doors opened and voices grew louder. New smells flooded the air, full of motion. It was unfamiliar.

The small one stayed hidden.

It listened; the ship was not finished with its journey. It was only pausing. The small one had survived the ride and it puffed its fur out with pride.

Not all adventures needed to be loud and not all victories needed to be seen.

Sometimes it was enough to travel in a great big metal angry thing and come out still warm and curious.

The small one curled into its soft place again. Wherever the loud ship went next it would go to… quietly.