I Understand, I Know
"Mama, where are you going?"
I look down. There's my little kit – Valleykit, his green eyes wide as he stares at me. Hickorykit is asleep, a snoozing little russet bundle, his flank rising and falling gently. I shake my head and purr.
"Mama's going for a walk, Valleykit," I tell him, licking his forehead. "Sleep tight. I'll be back before the sun rises."
"Mama, take me too!" The little ginger tabby clambers out of his nest, desperately looking up at my face. "I want to go with you!"
"Ssh, no, Valleykit," I soothe him. "I'll bring you a mouse when I get back, okay? Go to sleep."
He looks up at me, curious. Stubborn. Scared. I'm not sure what it is. "But Mama – "
"Come to the nest, Valleykit," Brindleshade's tortoiseshell face pokes out of the shadows. She tugs him gently by the tail. "Flamepool is the leader. She's probably stressed, that's why she's going out for a walk. Don't bother her."
Valleykit claws at the moss. "Promise you'll be back before sunrise?"
I nod. "Promise."
"Promise that you'll come back alive? Unlike Papa?"
A stone crashes into my heart. "I promise. Now go to sleep."
At last, Valleykit clambers into his nest. Brindleshade looks sympathetically at me as she brushes my two kits and her own with her tail.
"I understand how hard it must be to be a mother and a leader at the same time," she mews. "Go take a walk, Flamepool." The queen's head goes back into the shadows of the den.
I nod and stumble to the exit of the clearing.
Of course they understand. They understand my troubles as a leader and a mother.
They don't know my intentions, that's all. My intentions for leaving tonight, and my intentions for leaving my kits alone. My intentions for letting my mate go just like that.