It became old quite quickly.

Blood dripping from your paws, little scraps of flesh hanging from your teeth, the screams of terror as someone realized they wouldn't make it out alive. Sure, there were multiple methods to choose from, but dismemberment and asphyxiations became boring quite quickly. It just wasn't as fun as it used to be.

Some nights, as she lay in the tree tops, still not asleep but not quite awake, her mind would wander away. At first, it was quite strange. As long as she could remember, she had never been one to reminisce. The past was in the past. But it seemed with the ways things had been going, anything and everything could be used as a method so as not to turn those claws on herself.

The first dream had been just a small glimpse from her past. A small, night black kitten curled into a dull grey pelt, the smell of milk clogging her small pink nose. The warmth and comfort had been suffocating. When her eyes finally flashed open, greeted by the darkness of night, she was strangely relieved.

In the second, she was a bit older, maybe three or four moons. That familiar grey pelt was nowhere in sight, yet the black kitten was not worried. Perhaps she was distracted by the small butterfly which had landed in the grass, catching the kitten's attention and refusing to give it up. And so the kitten played, chasing the butterfly who strangely enough would always take flight at the last second, and land somewhere near where the kitten would be able to hop at it again. Soon, the mother returned, and the kitten was wrapped in her warmth once more.

In the third she was even older still, perhaps not even considered a kit. That familiar grey pelt was just in the corner of her eyes, and the black kit was tingling with anticipation. With a final glance back at her guardian, she leapt forwards, letting out a hiss as she plowed through the undergrowth. For a few seconds, there was no movement. Then, the black kitten returned, a small mouse grasped in her jaws, and a prideful grin on her face. However, it seemed as if that grin was a bit more than that. It almost appeared if the kit was happy to take that mouse's life.

After that dream, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease from her pelt. It was around the second night that she realized something: the memories of her past were fuzzy. Every time she was pulled from the present and brought backwards in time, it felt as if she were learning these things for the first time. It was strange really, but she still felt uncertain as her eyes fell closed that night.

Something was off. In this dream, the familiar dull grey fur was nowhere to be found. Strangely enough, the kitten didn't seem unsettled by this. Actually, they appeared to be relieved. As they padded through the underbrush, the feeling of despair grew with each step, yet the kitten did not notice. With one final flourish, she bounded into a clearing, staring at the center with a smile on her face.

That familiar pelt of grey was lying on the ground. It almost appeared as if she were sleeping. However, the small trail of blood leading from her throat told a different story. As the kitten approached, she felt strangely happy. Perhaps it was at the sight of her mother, but almost anyone could tell you differently. No, she was looking at the blood.

And that sight made her smile grow wide.