Komorebi 
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Komorebi helms his beloved Gilded Kestrel with precocious—and remarkable—prowess, directing his brother Briar’s magic to further their gallivanting. His star-spangled gaze gleams under the brim of his proud captain’s hat, and he never shed his childlike wonder and ambitions. Naivety nurses a heart clad in gold that’s almost too big for his chest—a trait that endears his wife, Ailith, to bits, and frustrates (worries) big brother Thicket to no end. Komorebi and his family, including an orphan cub named Taiga and Thicket’s birds, sail the high seas and soar on the clouds across worlds. When he first dreamt of salt winking in his fur, of white caps, of brine and water vapor, even his generous imagination doubted the feasibility of this pipe dream. Now, he basks in everything he’s ever wanted, none of the fortune souring his brilliant outlook.
Before he was Captain, before he was even Komorebi, he was the last cub to slide out of his mother, and she didn’t even notice between weeping over her silent—and alive—firstborn and the wailing of his middle brother. It was his father, a lion named Dhibari, that tugged him free and welcomed him to the world with soothing strokes, his patchouli smell the first one young Komorebi knew. The second? Milk. Nestled beside his littermate who wasn’t deceased after all and the brother everyone knew wasn’t, Komorebi was runty but no less fervent in suckling. His parents remained tentatively optimistic for his future.
While Thicket lazed with the birds and Briar harassed the same flocks, they hoped at least one child would be a cuddler, but Komorebi raced around their paws and scaled the highest trees, more than once requiring rescue from his attempts to fly. He dreamt of becoming a human Jeep after admiring their roaring black paws, then figured wings suited him better and leapt from tall places to practice his flight. Thankfully, his resolve always wavered in the canopies long enough for his father to fetch and scold him. His dreams morphed to far-flung lands, paws and soul weathered with travel. He tasted salt in the back of his throat. He felt that, if he hovered long enough, he could hear the symphony of water and the holler of gray-and-white birds. His eyes opened wider, and so did his heartache, a nauseating mixture of simultaneous yearning and homesickness. What of his family, his father, his brothers?
So he stayed and, for the time, his dreams quieted aloud. His family wondered if he had fallen ill. It was a teeming summer night out with Thicket when Komorebi let it slip—he wanted a ship, to sail and dip his toes into the sea. To his surprise, he found something unforeseen reflected in Thicket’s gaze: solidarity. His brother also yearned to stretch his legs and find the world beyond their swath of savanna but felt rooted out of obligation. When they returned to the pride, Thicket slipped away with Briar, their middle brother grumbling as they went. Komorebi, exhausted, let them go. For weeks his brothers absconded. He spent the time with his father and mother, guilt tangling in his claws. He had no idea.
Komorebi never imagined he would feel hewn oak under his pads or curl his paws around a steering wheel. But there she was—his beloved ship, lovingly restored by Thicket and Briar. He wept and wept, mostly in joy. But again, there was that guilt. When Dhibari heard of his sons’ venture, he ruffled his son’s scrappy mane and bid him well. He wept some more. At a port call home, when his father gifted him his iconic hat, he once again wept.
Komorebi and his brothers traveled many seas, Briar powering the boat’s ragged sails with his magic. They suffered seasickness, Briar’s antics, and the weather, but they persevered with Komorebi at the helm. At times, they collected new mates, and Thicket promised to keep them in line with a curl of his lip. There is one member of their band, though, who simply cannot be swayed by Thicket’s threats. Ailith, Komorebi’s wife, figures herself above his law, and only giggles at him. Naturally! They first encountered each other at a buzzing port. At first, she appeared to be but another one of Briar’s swindle victims, but she masterfully turned it around on him before Komorebi could muscle through the crowd to “spare” her. She guffawed at his gobsmacked expression and whisked away before either of them could process the scene. They met her once again at a tavern. Briar, still licking his wounded pride, ignored her, but Komorebi struck up a conversation with her. He only noticed his missing coin pouch and the suspicious bag in her mouth after she excused herself. He knew then that he was badly in love.
Promises of riches coaxed Ailith to join their voyages. Thicket loathed the unruly and snarky newcomer. He could only barely handle Briar! But he saw the hearts in his baby brother’s eyes and tolerated her presence. In the end, Ailith did more than tolerate Komorebi, and they consummated their bond with the discovery of a cove overflowing with gold—and harboring a small cub, her eyes not even open. They waited for a day for her mother, but no one arrived for the mysterious, starving cub. They had no choice but to leave with her and scour the seas for sustenance for such a young cub. Reared on goat’s milk and pulverized fish, her first view was of the clouds, soaring above the water. Although they were seeking someone to properly rear her, Komorebi grew ever attached to his little shadow and finally called off the hunt. They named her Taiga, and the little toddler officially joined the family. Although most attached to Komorebi and Ailith, she squeals in delight at Uncle Briar’s funny tricks and the thunking of Thicket’s prosthetic on the deck.
Komorebi’s travels have not yet taken a toll on him. He is silly, naive, and bright-eyed as ever, his paws tingling for the boat the moment he steps on land. Even though he cherishes his port calls home, he’s always pleased when they return to sea, the familiar question ringing in his ears.
“Where to, Captain?”
