(Hello! I'm not quite sure what to put here... Enjoy the story...?)
A light ginger she-cat glanced over her shoulder as she disappeared into the undergrowth. She placed the bundle of fur down, desperately trying to catch her breath. She nudged the tiny huddles over to the trunk of a great tree, hoping to hide them.
"Please, don't leave from here, and don't make any noise," she begged her children as she nudged a tiny ginger tabby into a hole in the tree.
"Why not mommy?" The little kit asked after it tumbled down, placing its paws on the wall of the inside of the tree.
The mother nudged its head down. "Sh, we're playing a game!" She whispered, trying to fool the kit as she tried to gather the other two and put them in with the hidden kit.
"Ooh! I love games! Is daddy playing?" The kit was patiently waiting for its siblings.
The mother bristled. "Yes! He's trying to find you, so you must stay hidden."
An angry howl pierced the air. "Where are you? I'm going to find you, and you are going to regret what you've done!"
The mother's eyes widened in fear, her paws fumbling as she tried to push the other two kits in the tree. "Please, go in," she begged, her voice cracking. But the kits were too excited and wouldn't stop tumbling out of the tree and over her paws.
The bushes rustled, and a large, dark tabby tom stalked through. "Where do you think you are going?" He snarled, raking his claws over the mother.
The kits squealed in fear, and the mother began to sob. "Please, don't hurt them," she begged, crouching low over the kits. "Kill me, but please let them go."
The tom didn't listen. "Its too late! I'm going to get my revenge! You stoll them from me!" He snarled, pouncing onto the mothers back. He curled his claws into her spine, blood welling up and spilling out onto the ground.
The weight caused the mother to crumple to the ground. "N-no... You were... Going to raise them to be evil." She choked, her mind going fuzzy as she felt a warm liquid pour onto the ground and pool around her.
The kits were too scared to run away, and they lay huddled against the tree, watching their mother slowly die. Inside the tree, the ginger kit was pressed up against the trunk, hoping the yowls of pain would stop. It closed its eyes tightly, praying it was only a dream.
"No! I would have made them ambitious! They would have been powerful!" He hissed, but the mother couldn't hear him. She was gone, her eyes glazed over and all life evaporated from her body. He scrambled off of her. "Fox dung! She would have been easy to manipulate... And now the kits will never listen. I must dispose of them."
He whirled around, stalking towards the shivering kits. He lifted his paw, his claws glinting with blood in the moonlight. When he brought it down, the air split with a squealing cry, but it was cut off suddenly. From within the tree, the tiny kit lay huddled in the shadows, listening as it heard a large mass being dragged along to ground until it was out of earshot.
"Mommy? Sissy? Brother?" It shivered in the shadows, praying it mother would come and lift it out.