Tigers of the wild

   This is a story based slightly on a roleplay Simba and I made. And, no, it's not about being loss, but it's about actual loss. And, you know what? Loss is a lot worst, because what's lost can be found, but loss can't be found, it's much harder to repair loss, if you can repair it at all.  And when you can't repair it, can you get past it, to at least temporarily stitch a tear in your heart? This story tells about how a red tabby cat, appropriately named Red, must face loss in order to help an unusual friend in need. 


  
   








  Red awoke and stretched and yawned. Doing so, he had accidentally bumped Star. The silver tabby stirred slightly, and opened her eyes to slits. Remembering what she'd told him just about nine hours earlier, the day before, that they would be having kittens, he felt an overwhelming wave of joy, and then the stronge urge to protect Star and the rest of his family. The den they lived in was large, comfortable, warm, and as safe as possible. Not only was the entrance to the den covered by branches and brush, it also was quite deep in the ground, for the land past the entrance sloped downward, then opening up to their perfect, large den, but that didn't change Red's feelings at all.
  "It's okay," Red whispered in Star's ear, "Go back to sleep."
She yawned, curled up, and, with a tired sigh, slipped back into sleep.

  Red slipped out of the den quietly, and, in the crisp, clean morning air, which was free of all and any winds, he decided it would be perfect for hunting, since he would not have to worry about the wind changing directions to reveal him to his prey. He was right; he quickly began finding prey as if they were trees(Red and Star's den was in a forest), and swiftly caught them. 

   As he caught his prey, he created a pile which he uncovered to put a new piece of prey on, and then cover it back up with dirt and leaves.  Once he caught his fourth piece of prey and finished covering it back up, he looked up on his way to go hunt more and saw a worrying sight.  It was a wolf cub, still smaller than Red, but Red knew how fast a cub could grow, and how big and dangerous he would become once he grew.  He bristled and unsheathed his claws, and his mind flashed to Star.  He knew he had to protect her, by driving this cub away while he still could, before it grew large enough to hurt his growing family.  
   He growled a threat to the wolf cub, and it backed away with a soft whine. 
   "I'm sorry," he quavered, "I was just going to find my mom."
   "Well you and your mom better get off our territory," Red growled.  
   The wolf puppy nodded, avoiding Red's glare, and, listening to Red, then ran off in the opposite direction he had been coming. Red unburied his pile of prey and went back home in relief. 
 

   A few weeks, maybe two or three, passed by, and Red didn't see or worry about the wolf cub again.  The only time he thought of him once more was the day he'd seen him, as he explained his confrontation with the puppy to Star.  
   Then, one day, as he and Star felt like walking through the forest around their den, maybe hunting a bit if they wanted, and Red remarked the territory here and there, something crashed through the trees and bushes, collapsing onto the ground in a panting, quivering heap.  It was the wolf puppy, clearly tired from runnning, and he seemed a bit desperate and frantic, too. 
    The fur on the pup's muzzle, paws and flank was a slightly darker color, and Red realized the cub was hurt.  Worried about Star washed over him, and he turned to her.
    "Go home, now!" he hissed. "I'll come soon."
    She nodded quickly and turned around and dashed toward the den, and Red walked over to the injured cub and began nosing his fur, trying to figure out what was wrong.  He found the answer in the flank, around the discolered fur.  It was a round wound, with something still in it.  He pawed it out carefully, then sniffed it.  Sure enough, it was a bullet, and he realized the cub had been shot. 
   "Are you all right?" Red asked in concern. 
   "There was that loud noise," he gasped, turning to Red with frightened eyes, "And then they hit my mom and she fell.  Then the same thing happened to me, but I got up and went to my mom. I nudged and pawed at her, but she wouldn't move. She wasn't even breathing." 
   The pup's voice began to crack, and Red really felt sorry for the cub.
   "Then I just ran. It hurt, but I kept running." 
   Red's stomach twisted in despair, but what was he supposed to do?
   "Please," the pup said, his eyes watering, "Help me." 
   Red didn't know what to do. Then he remembered Star. How could he put this wolf, which he probably would never be able to help, before her and the rest of his new family?  He couldn't, he knew. He turned around and ran into his den.




-- Edited by Neva at 01:16, 2009-01-04