Ordinary Writing Levels, Day 1, Prompt: Autumn
word count: 343
Mrs Figg was awoken by a consistent but annoying sound.
"Meow!" One her many cats said. It took a moment for her still sleepy mind to recognise the vocalisation of Mr Tibbles, her orange part-kneazle. "Meoooow," he said again, more insistent this time. He reached up and patted her cheek, meowing again.
"What is it, Mr Tibbles?"
He did nothing but meow and paw her face again.
She sighed and pulled back the covers, feeling the chill in the early morning air. Her feet sought out their slippers automatically and she reached up and grabbed her dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around her body and belting it. She knew Tibbles might wake her up for food but he was a good mouser and most likely had something important to show her.
He darted ahead of her and turned to watch her to make sure she was following. He stopped once at the back door to look back over his shoulder and then slipped out of the little flap in the centre of the door.
Arabella unlocked the door and braced herself for the cold air as it whirled around her ankles.
"Meow!" Mr Tibbles said again.
She followed him over to the corner of the yard behind two scrubby bushes that normally had dark green leaves. Then she heard another meow. Small, scared, and higher pitched than any of her other cats. There, half buried in in the frost and crispy autumn leaves was a baby kitten. She was curled so tightly on herself to stay warm, Arabella wasn't sure how to pick her up at first.
She looked up at Tibbles. "Why didn't you just bring her inside yourself?" Tibbles just stuck his nose in the air and twitched his fluffy white-tufted tail. She looked back at the kitten and reached down to pick her up. There was crunchy frost stuck in her fur and Arabella tucked the kitten inside her dressing gown and hurried back inside.
"Mew!" the little one said once she was inside and warm.
"Yes, Snowy. You're home."