Lying on the ground, so weak as to not be able to lift a stray grass stalk stuck onto my matted pelt. Taking short, shallow breaths in even as so much blood flows out. Listening, despairingly to battle sounds flow into my ear, then desperately trying to reclaim the sounds as they unnaturally fade out. Dying.
My eyes were closed long ago as I first received the wound, my ears have already lost their function. I can't feel anything, I'm too numb. Slowly, the stench of blood and death leave my nose and I'm in my own dark world.
It's like a dream, me doing nothing while images streak across my mind, memories. Suddenly yet gracefully, I see a cat dance across a figurative sky and land in front of me. She lies her paw on the ground next to me, letting me realize that I have a corporeal body. Smoothly, automatically, I take her hand.
We rise up, and the little bubble of my own world pops in a shower of sparks and is quickly replaced by my home in its greatest splendor. I run across the grass with full mobility and charge around the place. Its like a past world, me intruding on the perfect life. Fresh-kill is like a mountain and dens have enough spaces to hold a whole camp or more. No cats are fighting, the perfect sky tells me it's nearly nighttime and everyone is sharing tongues, me included.
A young cat approaches me and asks how I died. The thought sinks in, and I come to terms with my being dead. Then I realize I couldn't be happier.