The sunlight through the trees made dappled, moving shadows that hid my quiet stalking. Two fox-lengths through the grass in front of me, sat a small field mouse. Nibbling on a small seed, it was oblivious to my presence. Well, my standing downwind helped too. My quick, quiet pawsteps were shortening the distance between us. Yet the mouse still eats, oblivious to it's impending doom. When I'm half a tail-length away, still hidden in the tall grass, I pounce, landing on the mouse. I end it's life with a quick bite.
Yeah, right. That's never going to happen to me. I don't even live in a forest. Or have a home. (I'm a pound kitty, you know, like pound puppy? Hahahaha... No? Okay then. Jeez, would it kill you to laugh?)
I'm three moons old and I've had about four homes. Kinda. They all threw me out when I didn't, umm, go where they wanted me to.
My pelt in mainly black;my belly and three of my paws are white, as well as my left ear and the tip of my tail. I have green eyes. I'm also pretty lucky to be alive. All I get to eat is what the twolegs put out for me. And I'm never sure of where to sleep, because I might get killed by other animals. Oh yeah, and I'm a girl.
Right now, I'm standing on the side of a thunderpath, waiting to cross. There's a simple way for knowing how to cross, wait for the big groups of twolegs to start crossing, and walk with them. It's pretty easy, but sometimes I have to watch out for some twolegs who try to kick me. I know it sounds horrible, but you learn to live with it.
After I cross the thunerpath, I try to find a place to sleep. Ignoring the growing pangs in my stomach, I scan the alleyway. I find a box that looks perfect until a dog peeks out of it. I don't stick around long enough to find out if he would hurt me or not.
After about an hour, I settle for the corner of an abandoned barn. Getting there required a lot of walking.
"Well, things can't get any worse."
I was wrong though. And when things got worse, it looked like things were getting better.