I could hear the birds singing outside of the bush. I could hear the wind roaring, sweeping across the ground, and smell the smell of damp leaves. But I couldn't see anything. I could only see darkness.
My mother's warm body was snuggled against me, keeping me cosy. Her long fur was mixed with mine. I breathed in her familiar scent, letting it soothe me. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see, to explore. But maybe I would just have to wait until I was a little bit older.
I went back to exploring the outside world with my weak senses.
A small creature – I think it was called a mouse – was scuffling about in the dead leaves. My mother had often brought them back to the bush to eat them.
A squirrel was nibbling at a pine cone at the foot of a tree, its bushy tail sweeping the ground, making a sound much like the wind. A bird was on a low down branch opposite the squirrel. It trilled a beautiful, high-pitched song.
The outside was magical and crawling with life. I couldn't wait to explore it.
"Sleep Bella," my mother's gentle voice flowed like the wind. It sounded as soft and silky as her fur. "You've got a big day ahead of you." I felt my mother's tongue rasp around my ear, felt her breath warm on my cheek. My jaws stretched in a huge yawn and I drew in her milky, warm smell.
Suddenly I was very very sleepy.
I woke to the sound of paw steps. A mouth-watering smell wafted towards me, even better than the smell of milk. I opened my mouth and drank the scent in, letting it dance on my tongue.
Suddenly I could hear my mother's purr. The smell came closer to me and so did my mother. What was it?
"It's a mouse, Bella," my mother told me. It was as if she could read my mind. Did I really make it that obvious? "Why don't you open your eyes and we can share it." I wanted to sink my teeth into the mouse, to let the juicy flavour soak into my mouth.
Very slowly my eyes began to open. At first it was just a tiny crack. Light almost blinded me. But I wanted to taste the mouse. I wanted to explore. Ignoring the brightness, I pulled my eyes the rest of the way open and blinked, waiting for them to adjust.
The first thing I saw was my mother. She had long, silky, grey tabby fur that sparkled in the sunlight and silvery blue eyes. I purred. My mother was beautiful! My eyes then floated downwards, towards the mouse at her paws. It was tiny and grey, its eyes staring lifelessly up at the bramble branches that arched above our heads.
"Come on, Bella," my mother mewed softly. "This will be you're first taste of proper food." I nodded and heaved myself up onto shaky paws. Very, very slowly I stepped forwards. My legs trembling dangerously and I tumbled over onto the soft moss and bracken floor. I struggled up again and took some smaller steps towards my mother.
I soon got the hang of it and padded the rest of the way across the bush. My mother wrapped her tail around me and pushed the mouse to my nose. I gazed hungrily down at it and took my first bite.
It was delicious, a lot different from milk. I glanced up at my mother and she nodded. I took another few bites, letting the flavours dance on my tongue.
"I'ths yummy," I tried to say. My voice was rough and low. It wasn't pretty like my mother's.
My mother purred happily.
"I know," she mewed. "And later you can try some other types of prey. There's bird, squirrel, vole, shrew and rabbit and each one tastes different." I nodded eagerly and pushed the mouse back to my mother with my paw. She glanced down at me and then finished it off.
After it was all gone my mother got to her paws and bounded across to the exit. She beckoned to me with her tail. I followed more slowly, a sudden thought popping up in my head.
"Mami," I meowed. "Whath's your name?" My mother turned around, her silvery eyes thoughtful. I thought for a moment that she might have forgotten what it was.
"My name is Dove," she told me. Dove. It was a beautiful name and suited her perfectly.
I leaped forwards, following Dove into the outside world.
A gust of icy wind hit me in the face, knocking me from my paws and onto the ground. The ground was hard and frozen. I could feel wetness slowly seeping into my fur. So far I wasn't enjoying this.
"Mami!" I cried. "Wait up!"
Dove turned and lifted me back to my paws.
"Here," she mewed. "Grab my tail. I'll take you some place more sheltered." I grasped onto her tabby tail and was towed forwards.
Looking down at the ground, I placed my paws in the prints Dove left behind in the frosty white stuff. I looked at the size of my tiny paws compared to the size of Dove's. Some day mine would be that big too.
Dove pulled me into the shade of the forest. The ground was wet here and I stumbled over the leaves.
Suddenly I felt my paws slip from under me and I tumbled to the ground. I dug my tiny claws into the leafy earth and pulled myself up again. Dove had stopped and was gazing down at me.
"The leaves are very slippery!" I exclaimed. Dove nodded, her silvery blue eyes dancing with amusement as I picked soggy leaves off of my tabby fur.
When I had finished I grabbed back onto Dove's tail and went plunging into the undergrowth.
I fought my way through bramble thickets, feeling the thorns rake through my fur, struggled over gorse bushes and fell over a lot.
At last we came to a halt at a still clearing, free of tree roots, brambles and gorse bushes. A small stream wound through the trees at the very edge. The grass and leaves glittered with dew.
Maybe it wasn't so bad outside – once you got the hang of it.
"I'll go get something for us to eat," Dove mewed. "You must be hungry after our trip." I nodded. I had been so caught up in trying not to slip and trying not getting tangled in brambles I had forgotten how hungry I was. My tummy growled loudly.
Dove dropped into a crouch and stalked across the clearing. I watched, amazed. If you hadn't known Dove was there you wouldn't have noticed her. She crept across the grass, silent and quick. Then she disappeared. It was as if she had never been here.
I looked around me, eyes wide in admiration. Dove had just... disappeared.
Her tabby body soon became visible as a bramble bush parted. A plump robin hung from her jaws. I gazed at it, my mouth watering.
"That was quick," I mewed. "You are very very good at hunting!" Dove shook her head.
"I know better," she mewed, twitching her ears. "Know let's eat."
We settled down on the mossy tree roots at the edge of the clearing and took it in turns to take a bit of the robin.
"It's a bit fluffy!" I mewed, spitting feathers out of my mouth. "I like mouses better." Dove purred.
"Birds can be like that," she told me. "Shrews are a bit stringy. Rabbits are a bit scrawny. Voles are a bit watery. No food is perfect."
"Oh," I meowed. "I didn't know that. I can't wait to try them all!"
As soon as they had finished Dove took me to the edge of the stream. I gazed down at the rushing icy water.
"This is the stream that separates us from the twoleg place," Dove told me. "You must never ever cross it. Got that Bella? You must never ever cross it." I looked ahead of me but all I could see was more forest.
"Why not?" I asked. "Twoleg place doesn't look scary or hurtful." Dove looked down at me crossly.
"Twoleg place is the most scary hurtful place you could never go," she warned me. "Only cross that stream if you want to die." I shrank down slightly. Twoleg place did sound scary now.
"But," I meowed. "I can smell other cats. Why are they still alive?"
"Those are kittypets, Bella," meowed Dove. "They live with twolegs. You never want to be a kittypet, Bella. They have to eat rabbit dropping food and mush out of a metal bowl. They only ever get to see sunlight if they stay behind their fence."
"What's a fente, Mami?" I asked. "It doesn't sound very nice."
"A fence is very nice," Dove meowed, flicking her ears. "It's what separates us from them."
"Oh," I meowed, gazing across the stream. "Can you take me there someday?"
"No!" Dove snapped. "You never under any circumstances cross that stream!" I leaped back, feeling frightened. I had never seen Mami so angry.
"Sorry," I squeaked. Dove softened and wrapped her bushy tail around me.
"I think you've had enough for one day," she mewed. "Let's go back home." I nodded and followed her back into the forest.