It was spring time. The trees had just gotten their leaves and there were still little patches of snow. The leaves shook, making a scratchy maraca sound. The melting snow caused water to drip off of rocks and make a steady beat. The busy birds sang away to the forest sounds while making the new nests that they would call home.
Then a sound was heard from far away. The deer gave in to their temptation of curiosity and stopped their grazing to look to see what was up. The sound came again and the wild hares looked out of curiosity. The sound seemed to have been coming out from the sky. The animals didn't know that on top of the tallest tree in the forest that a lone cat was crouching on the very top. Her fur was a pure white; there were red stripes along the top of her head, on the tip of her ears, and on the end of her tail. She wore a shirt and skirt made from bear skins. Her hair was long and soft and her eyes were a mesmerizing golden. She put her hands on her mouth and made a strong and musical whistling sound that went all around the forest. That was the sound we were hearing earlier.
She stayed in that position for a while, observing the masterpiece that was set before her, she then suddenly hopped of the tree and landed gracefully at the bottom. She then ran at full speed in front of her, not worrying about what would happen if she injured her bare feet. She kept on running, dodging roots and trees and jumping over rivers. A berry bush was closing in, in front of her. When she passed the bush though, the berries were gone. She then ran to a giant stone pillar. She swiftly and easily climbed to the top where she could see an Indian village down below. She took a rest and sat there, eating her berries, and watching her tribe get ready for the day.