Note: The following short story contains blood and gore

The night air was still and quiet. The air was dense with fear and worry. Silent pawsteps made its way through the forest. A ginger tabby she-cat made her way through the forest, blood dripping from her pelt.

Her jaws were parted and a wound gushed out from her flank. A part of her tail was shredded and ripped off. She was limping heavily, her eyes dull. She kept her gaze in front of her, not daring to look around.

Bloody pawsteps were left behind as she walked. I can't keep doing this. I'll be ripped to shreds! The she-cat thought. She paused, catching her breath for a quick moment before running off into the night.

She ignored the pain in her leg, forcing herself to keep going. I can't stop! I have to keep going! She thought, forcing herself to go faster. Her paws began to ache. She raced out into a moor, leaving the shelter of the forest behind.

She paused at the center of the moor, exposing herself. Panting hard, she looked back at where she came from. Her blue eyes gleamed in the darkness. The moon turned her ginger pelt into a silver, exposing some of the shadows.

She turned back around, her head lowering. She kept panting, her shredded tail falling. She soon collapsed, her flanks rising and falling. The she-cat slowly began to cry "Oh Feather, I'm so sorry." she sobbed, looking up at the sky.

"I've failed you and our kits. I've let everyone down..." she quietly sobbed, tears rolling down her face. A second set of paws appeared on the moor. A starlit grey and white tom made his way towards the she-cat.

He stared down at her, lowering his head to her face "You didn't fail me, Blossom. And you didn't fail our kits. I've been guiding them to safety my whole life." he murmured, staring into her blue eyes.

The she-cat smiled up at him, tears still rolling down her face. The tom settled down beside her, curling his tail around her body "Rest, my love. Your time has come." he whispered to her, resting his head on her neck fur.

Blossom's eyes began to glaze and she slowly closed her eyes, dying on the moor with her mate beside her. The tom licked her fur, tears rolling down his face. Words rang out to him.

Keep our kits safe Feather. I've always loved you and now, I need you more than ever. Keep our kits safe...

Word count: 415