Post by wynnyelle on Feb 13, 2008 19:52:03 GMT -5
A chorus of cicadas rose up all through the air high above the six-pound kitten as he lay in the shade of a backyard tree, resting his sore pads after a long walk. Ghafula rolled over onto his back, stretching his long legs above him before he let them flop over onto his other side. He yawned and stretched. His mostly unsuccessful catnap was over; it was time to get up. His empty stomach gave a loud growl as he got his overlarge, tawny feet under him and stood up. The spotted cub-kit found it too hard to sleep when he was hungrier than he had ever been in his life.
He had just stood up when his huge ears picked up the sound of something small moving through grass, further away. His head swivelled round and he saw the twin grey forms of a squirrel and its bushy tail. The creature was foraging at the base of a tree, on the other side of the chain-link fence. Ghafula's whole body tensed up and he could suddenly hear it a whole lot better with his radar ears trained on the prey. I could -eat- this thing, he thought to himself. He had to get his claws and teeth on it, kill this tantalising creature that he had only ever seen through windows.
He crept closer, keeping his body low. When he reached the fence, though, he had to leap up top of it to get past it, and as he balanced clumsily on the cool steel bar preparing to jump down, the squirrel saw him up there and scampered up the tree. By the time Ghafula landed and raced over to the base of the big oak, his quarry had already leaped into the branches of a neighbouring tree high overhead.
Sniffing through the litter of leftover autumn leaves, he found a few beetles and snapped them up greedily. They were hard and crunchy but better than nothing. He sat down amidst the dead leaves and fought the urge to mew in despair. He would be calling to a mother too far away to ever hear him.
If she hadn't heard him all those days he had called to her just after he had been ripped from her, she wouldn't hear him now...
~*~*~*~
He remembered her purr most of all. His first memories captured her purr forever. Long after her face and voice faded from his mind, falling through the cracks of time, he would hold onto the great deep rumbling that had made him feel like the whole world was purring. He had woken, fed and slept to that purr. Back then his whole world had been purrs, warmth and milk. When his eyes had first opened and he became able to focus on her face, she had said, "Ghafula, your eyes are beautiful."
She had told him and his sister and brother stories of things and times in a place far, far away, where she had come from. The three of them had only begun to take their first wobbly steps when it had happened. A human hand reached into the little wooden house-den they all lived in and taken hold of his tiny body.
His momma, mrrr-Mumma, had hissed at the intruder. "Ghafula! No!" she screamed as the two-legs turned and carried him away through a place of light and chaos.
"Mrrr-Mumma!" Ghafula struggled but it was no use...he had no chance of fighting the two-legs whom he would come to call Big Fat Two-legs. He was only two weeks old...
~*~*~*~
Ghafula snapped out of his trance, which he might have fallen into out of hunger-borne weakness. He had heard another movement. This time, it was unseen...and coming from a tiny black hole nestled between two roots of the big oak. Ghafula raced round to the hole, glad that it placed the enormous trunk between him and the twoleg-nest that bordered the other side of the backyard. He crouched by the hole and listened. He heard scratching and movement deep inside. He sniffed at the hole with his black, pink-striped padded nose. The memory of a chipmunk came to his mind. He had found its home! Does that mean I have it trapped? In excitement he reached his paw into the hole and felt around. The hole went in a long way, longer than he had thought it would. He felt around until his pads ran across a flash of fur and movement. The kitten hissed in excitement and his claws extended as he continued to feel around inside the burrow. He had to catch this thing--he had to eat it. He was beginning to fear that if he didn't eat something soon, he would get weaker and weaker, and maybe even die.
He had just stood up when his huge ears picked up the sound of something small moving through grass, further away. His head swivelled round and he saw the twin grey forms of a squirrel and its bushy tail. The creature was foraging at the base of a tree, on the other side of the chain-link fence. Ghafula's whole body tensed up and he could suddenly hear it a whole lot better with his radar ears trained on the prey. I could -eat- this thing, he thought to himself. He had to get his claws and teeth on it, kill this tantalising creature that he had only ever seen through windows.
He crept closer, keeping his body low. When he reached the fence, though, he had to leap up top of it to get past it, and as he balanced clumsily on the cool steel bar preparing to jump down, the squirrel saw him up there and scampered up the tree. By the time Ghafula landed and raced over to the base of the big oak, his quarry had already leaped into the branches of a neighbouring tree high overhead.
Sniffing through the litter of leftover autumn leaves, he found a few beetles and snapped them up greedily. They were hard and crunchy but better than nothing. He sat down amidst the dead leaves and fought the urge to mew in despair. He would be calling to a mother too far away to ever hear him.
If she hadn't heard him all those days he had called to her just after he had been ripped from her, she wouldn't hear him now...
~*~*~*~
He remembered her purr most of all. His first memories captured her purr forever. Long after her face and voice faded from his mind, falling through the cracks of time, he would hold onto the great deep rumbling that had made him feel like the whole world was purring. He had woken, fed and slept to that purr. Back then his whole world had been purrs, warmth and milk. When his eyes had first opened and he became able to focus on her face, she had said, "Ghafula, your eyes are beautiful."
She had told him and his sister and brother stories of things and times in a place far, far away, where she had come from. The three of them had only begun to take their first wobbly steps when it had happened. A human hand reached into the little wooden house-den they all lived in and taken hold of his tiny body.
His momma, mrrr-Mumma, had hissed at the intruder. "Ghafula! No!" she screamed as the two-legs turned and carried him away through a place of light and chaos.
"Mrrr-Mumma!" Ghafula struggled but it was no use...he had no chance of fighting the two-legs whom he would come to call Big Fat Two-legs. He was only two weeks old...
~*~*~*~
Ghafula snapped out of his trance, which he might have fallen into out of hunger-borne weakness. He had heard another movement. This time, it was unseen...and coming from a tiny black hole nestled between two roots of the big oak. Ghafula raced round to the hole, glad that it placed the enormous trunk between him and the twoleg-nest that bordered the other side of the backyard. He crouched by the hole and listened. He heard scratching and movement deep inside. He sniffed at the hole with his black, pink-striped padded nose. The memory of a chipmunk came to his mind. He had found its home! Does that mean I have it trapped? In excitement he reached his paw into the hole and felt around. The hole went in a long way, longer than he had thought it would. He felt around until his pads ran across a flash of fur and movement. The kitten hissed in excitement and his claws extended as he continued to feel around inside the burrow. He had to catch this thing--he had to eat it. He was beginning to fear that if he didn't eat something soon, he would get weaker and weaker, and maybe even die.