Her fur was torn, and gaping holes in her flesh gave way to the white, milky bone beneath. Her eyes, an electric blue, were dead and unfocused. Blood flowed freely from her belly, sides, mouth, everywhere. I felt sick, watching my own mother bleed out before me.
"Don't just stand there, kits," Oak snarled, licking the blood from Mother, "get over here and help!" We joined him, ignoring our own injuries. We licked the blood away, and finally covered it with cobwebs and moss. Mother had fallen asleep, her strength spent. We carried her away, very much away that the foxes could return at any moment.
Oak led the way, bearing no weight of Mother, simply looking for the best spot. Silver and I simply carried Mother. We had tried allowing her to walk, with us either side, but she had been too weak for even that. Her wounds that had closed had reopened, matting her fur and ours with more blood.
We simply draped her across our backs, stumbling along after our brother. He was never satisfied, always looking for a better, warmer, more comfortable spot for her to rest. I had the nagging suspicion that he was trying to find a place with loose soil and a comfortable place for her to spend her final moments.
He finally settled on a large oak tree, with large roots giving way to an abandoned animal den. He lined it with moss and feathers while we supported Mother. He finally signaled with his tail, and we silently placed her between the strong, protective roots and into her bed. She was hidden from the world, and Oak curled up across the only opening.
"We must make her comfortable," he told us, giving us a green-eyed stare. "Fetch whatever prey you managed to catch earlier." I approached Oak, stiff-legged, sore, and looking for a fight.
"Why must we fetch the prey, carry our mother, and do you bidding? Mother lives, you don't control us. We are sore and tired; we'll keep watch." I was spitting now, fury blazing in my eyes. "Just because you're older, doesn't make you smarter or in charge or anything!"
"You forget, sister," Oak began, his voice eerily calm, "that if you and Silver had not been so young and foolish, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. You are incapable of even the simplest tasks, and weak as you are, how can you be expected to protect our mother, who has just risked her life to save you, an ungrateful kit who can't even be bothered to bring her something to eat."
I froze. His words were true, and they struck me deep in my heart. He was right, as he always was. I crouched low, my ears back. Oak nodded, curling up again. I motioned to Silver, and we left, limping and bleeding and feeling downright awful.
Silver didn't say anything, his eyes downcast and devoid of light and the joy he once had. I'm sure I looked the same. His left eye was still swollen shut, and oozing something that I couldn't name. I didn't dwell on it, and instead focused my senses on our prey stash. It ought to be just ahead, scraped under that pile of leaves and sticks…
"Silver…" I gasped as I saw the same fox, bloodied nose and flanks, eating our prey. It growled low in its throat, taking a threatening step towards us. This time, we didn't hesitate before turning tail and bolting from the scene. The fox's triumphant yips of pleasure as he eagerly devoured our prey, watching us run away, followed us teasingly, taunting us.
Panting, we halted as far away as we could run. We hunted joylessly, taking the life of only a few easy mice. We carried them back, stopping for breath often. We eagerly devoured one mouse each, swiping our jaws to get the last bits. The last mouse we shared, deciding to hunt more when we returned, so we could call on Oak for help, should we need it.
When we scented the metallic blood of Mother and Oak, we stopped and hunted again, this time with four mice, a squirrel, and a sparrow. We called to Oak, and he came quickly, helping us to carry our prey back to camp. He didn't mention how fresh they were, nor how we didn't seem to be too hungry. Instead, he carried the mice into Mother's nest, disappearing inside the tree roots.
Only the squirrel and sparrow were left, but neither Silver nor I touched them. Instead, we licked each other's wounds and pressed cobwebs on them. I offered first watch, since it was apparent that Oak had no plans of coming out. Silver agreed quickly, climbing Mother's tree. He curled up on a low, wide branch and fell asleep.
I lay down where Oak was originally, across the only entrance. The cold of leaf-fall bit into my pelt, despite the nice weather that we had had earlier. I shivered, curling my tail over my nose. Sleep tugged at my eyelids, but I forced them awake. We were more vulnerable than ever, without Mother to guide us.
My injured paw throbbed. I had blocked out the pain during the hunt and heat of battle, but the cold of the moonless night forced the ache back into it. I whimpered softly. Mother knew how to fix everything. If only I hadn't been so foolish…
I stood quickly, standing on three legs. No use thinking about things that I couldn't fix. I walked around the solid oak, looking for signs of a fox or badger. Walking did little to keep me warm, especially with my aching, throbbing wrenched paw. I paused to look at it.
It had swollen, and was bent off to one side where it didn't belong. My paw had even turned a little, so I couldn't put it down if I wanted to. Because it seemed like a good idea at the time, I went ahead and tried to put a little weight on it. Stars shot across my vision, and I cried out in pure pain. Silver leapt off his perch, running to my aid.
"What's wrong?" he hissed, looking around to see if anyone, or any fox, had heard. He glanced down at my paw. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"It didn't hurt until just now- I thought I had popped it back into place!"
Silver hissed, looking at the mangled limb. "I don't know what to do. It's all twisted and torn now… I don't dare to anything in case it gets worse…"
I nodded, tears pricking my eyes and blurring my vision. I gently brought out my claws and swiped the air experimentally. "If I turn my shoulder like this, I can still sort of defend myself."
Silver nodded, his green eyes, or, rather, eye, watching me slash the air. "That's okay," he said, giving my ear a comforting lick, "I'll keep watch tonight. When Mother's better tomorrow, you can get that paw fixed and we'll be on our way in a day or two, once everyone's rested up."
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure Mother's just tired. And Oak's probably told her how it was all our fault, and-"
"It wasn't our fault," Silver cut in. "And don't you think it!"
I grinned at him. "Of course it wasn't. That's just what Oak'll say."
Silver smiled, gesturing to his tree perch. "Like I said, I'll keep watch for a bit. You go on and rest. I'll wake you up as soon as I hear anything from Oak." I purred, rubbing pelts with him. I then struggled up the large trunk, my wrenched paw making it harder to climb. I reached the wide branch, and flicked my tail down at Silver, signaling I had made it.
His pelt was dark in the shadows, although last night, it had glowed in the moonlight, even though there was very little. I sighed, settling myself down on the branch best I could. I stared at the stars, glittering so far away. What were they? Where did they come from?
"You're right, Silver," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "It wasn't our fault. It was mine."