Moons Ago... Icemoon, part 1/3

A golden-yellow cat burst out of the bush, growling fiercely.

“Attack!” the swift command was issued.

Three well-trained, robust warriors stealthily jumped from a tree and crashed on top of the furious cat.

“You’ll never live, The yowling continued for a while. Then all was silent.

“Find the kit!” the growly-voiced cat demanded, pawing the ground impatiently.

Before any of them could respond, a dozen warriors burst out of the other side.

Menacing silence hung between the two, broken only by the twittering of a bird. As if a signal blared, the cats erupted into clawing, jumping, and battling for their lives.

The golden cat raced desperately away from the battle. Low tree branched whipped past, wounding her even further. Finally she slowed to a halt, gasping. She collapsed. The forest was temporarily silent. Mewling greeted her stricken face.

“Icekit, run!” she yowled.

For her pursuers were not far behind. Their breath roared into the tiny kit’s mind. Squealing, he watched as they burst out of the trees and attacked his mother. He bowed his head. His eyes burned fire. He would never forget his mother. He shuddered as he heard a cut-short screech in the night. Hawks were out at this dreary time. He must find shelter. Icekit scampered under a bush. He pawed his way backwards. All the sudden, he burst through the scanty layer of thorn-bush into a dark hole. His eyes brightened. He was safe. He was in a cave.