Alone

Prologue

Moonlight illuminated everything. Every leaf on every tree seemed so clear in the darkness. A pale shape weaved its way through the shadows, dodging shrubs and fallen logs. The figure found herself looking up at the moon as she ran, checking for any shapes in the sky above.
If it wasn't so clear tonight, I'm sure it wouldn't have spotted me, She thought. If I had stayed inside my den like I was supposed to, I'm sure I would be safe.
She hissed at herself angrily. "Then I would at least have a chance at motherhood."
The figure continued to sprint through the woods, her pace quickening as she heard the heavy beat of wings above.
No, no, no... she thought. I'm going to die, just like Coco.
Suddenly, all the memories came rushing back.
Coco smiling and laughing, her brown ears twitching like they always were. Coco and I sharing a mouse. Coco running away from a shadowy figure behind her. Coco's paw getting trapped in a bramble bush. Coco being carried away in the sharp talons of a hawk. Coco screaming at me to run.
After slowing slightly at the unwanted memory, the she-cat picked up her pace and ran faster. She could hear the voice of her friend echoing in her mind, all other thoughts absent.
"Run, Ginger. Run as fast as you can." The words repeated over and over in Ginger's mind. She sprinted as fast as she possibly could, the howling cries of the hawk behind her growing closer.
This is it. I'm going to die. Ginger pushed away the thought. She couldn't panic. Not now. Suddenly, Ginger found herself tumbling downwards. She screeched, sharp rocks stabbing her flesh. Disoriented, she found herself at the bottom of a small dip in the ground. Ginger stood up quickly, but fell back down immediately when a sharp pain rocketed through her left foot. The cry of a hawk was the only thing she could hear above the roaring in her ears. Ginger turned her head from side to side, frantically looking for something that could save her. She almost cried out with relief when she saw an opening in the earth. It was small, which concerned her, but it was her best shot. Ginger scrambled down the hole, bumping her head on a tree root jutting out from one of the rough walls of the space. It was certainly small, but it had just enough space for Ginger. She pressed herself against the far wall of the hole, squeezing her amber eyes shut. She listened to the hawk crying out overhead, frustrated at its lost meal. Ginger stayed very still.
She only opened her eyes again after the wingbeats of the hawk had faded into silence. She turned her head and looked outside of the gaping hole. She stayed like that for a moment, looking at the patterns the starlight made on the grass and trees. She blinked twice before standing up, her muscles protesting at the sudden movement. She started to pad outside again, when a sharp pain knocked her to the ground.
The kits. Ginger thought with horror. Not now. Please not now.
The pain persisted, and Ginger came to the realization that she would be in her hiding spot for longer than she thought.

...

Ginger licked her new kits under the light of the rising sun, exhausted and overwhelmed. There were three kits overall, two being pale cream tabbies and the last one being grey and spotted.
Names. Ginger realized. They need names.
She swept her gaze over the three mewling kittens in front of her, trying to figure out what sort of names would suit each one. One of the cream tabbies let out a shrill mewl. Ginger turned her gaze at the noise, analyzing the kitten it came from.
A she-cat. Ginger noticed. Long-legged. She'll be great at running. Sharp claws... with the right skills, she'll be a good hunter too. Ginger smiled. Yes. She'll be fantastic.
"I think I'll name you Dart." She mumbled, smile widening.
Her gaze moved on to the second tabby, this one plumper than her sister. She had swirling stripes all along her back. The patterns dazzled Ginger, and her eyes widened in amazement.
Beautiful. Ginger thought with wonder. I'll name you Twist.
Finally, Ginger turned her eyes to the last kit. Another girl, but that wasn't what Ginger was paying attention to. The little grey kit was completely still. All of Ginger's delight and wonder quickly turned into fear. She nudged the kit, but she still didn't move. She touched her nose to limp kitten's cheek, the cold feeling in her gut getting worse and worse. The kit felt like ice.
No. No, no, no... Ginger's breathing quickened with panic, and she nudged her kit with increasing intensity.
She's not... she can't be.. Ginger's heavy breathing slowly gave way to choked sobs. She held her kitten close, as if she believed that she could share some of her warmth with her kit and bring her back. But she couldn't. The grey-speckled kitten would never be warm again.
Ginger's sobs were the only sounds in the forest that morning.