1 The Escape

"Kris! Here, boy!" The small creature underneath the blankets stirred, but didn't answer the small boy's call. He didn't feel like moving, as everytime he showed his face to the small child, he was put through some nagging or tail-pulling.

"Kris! There you are!" The blanket was ripped from on top of the kitten, showering his fur with cold air. He leapt up, quick as a flash, and bolted towards the door, but wasn't fast enough. His small legs couldn't carry him far enough from the boy.

He was snatched into the arms of the child, who promptly started roughly shaking him. His head pounded as he was jolted back and forth for several seconds, his paws clawing at the air for a hold on anything, which he found. He found the boy's arms, dug his claws, and jumped. The boy cried out in alarm, and dropped him.

The small kitten ran as fast as he could towards the large mound of cushion that had been his hiding spot, but wasn't fast enough. He felt small hands grapple his tail and yank him back. He yowled in pain, and the boy lifted him up, dangling him. With a flash of anger, the small cat did a strange maneuver in the air to gain access to skin, then slashed the boy's arm with his claws.

The screaming that ensued was the worst yet. The two bigger humans ran to the boy's aid, the bigger snatching the cat from the floor and throwing him out into the front garden. They would never let him outside, so despite the pain in his legs from the harsh landing, he was delighted. He never liked living in this human home, he always knew he preferred the outside. Ever since he was taken from his mother a cycle ago, he had been desperate to escape.

He ran to the middle of the garden and looked around. There was a big wall all around, made of tough wood, of which you couldn't see to the other side. But there was a tree in the garden, if only he could get to the top... He could be free.

He scrambled up the trunk with no hesitation, his claws digging into the bark. He wasn't going to wait for the humans to realize their mistake and come for him, not after what he had done. He knew it was wrong, but after two months of this home, he felt his welcome was more than overstayed.

He managed to make it to one of the smaller branches, then crawled out to the edge. It was a few feet from the fence ledge, if he could make the jump, he was free. He could already see to his left and right was a long row of other fences, and in front of him, another human den like his own. With a last reassuring breath, he tensed and flung himself towards the fence- and slammed right into it, half his body over and the other dangling.

He dug his claws into the wood and pushed and quite easily climbed it. As he was about to hop down, he heard the door swing open. He turned his head and saw the same human hurrying towards him, cooing and calling him. It was the perfect motivation.

He snapped back around and jumped down from the fence, landing decently. The human, still in pursuit, fumbled with the fence, and before he knew it, one of the pieces of fence swung open. The human emerged, but the cat was already running. His paws slapped the ground as he ran down this long black rock of sorts, scared and nervous.

He didn't stop running until he couldn't anymore, and collapsed under a bush, tired and shaking. He didn't know what he was going to do, but didn't really care. He didn't like the old food he was forced to eat, and even though his stomach was aching, he didn't plan on going back.

He looked around. There was a long strip of black rock, where large machines rattled past, each time drenching him in the hot, burning stench of their vapors. Behind him, there was a small dip that seemed to lead to a forest. He figured the forest was his best choice and stood shakily, slowly walking towards the treeline with aching paws. The feeling of grass on his paws as the sky darkened was soothing, the small bits of moisture clinging to the blisters on his paw pads.

He made it to the trees as the night became full, the moon shining. His whiskers twitched as he pushed through a thick clump of brambles, the thorns making him grateful for his sleek fur. Had it been long, he would have been snagged and caught in brambles all night.

When he emerged on the other side, he was confronted with a thick smell of other cats. About four of them, all adults except for one, who wasn't too far away from maturity. He huddled closer to the ground as he walked, cautious. He didn't want any trouble.

He traveled for a long time in complete silence, before he heard a small rustling that almost scared him out of his fur. He was instantly calm, and became really excited when he smelled the source: a field mouse. It must have come from the field by the forest, seeking food.

He crouched as low as he could, trying to stay hidden, and ambled towards it. There was a small, quivering animal, clutching a small acorn and clawing at it. He could smell it, already taste it. He tightened his muscles, and pounced.

He launched through the air, only to be knocked down and thrown across the ground. A sharp pain erupted through his side as something sunk its teeth into his flank. He looked around and saw a large cat, a white tom, clinging to his side. There were other cats that began to leap and scratch at him, and he could only flail and thrash against them. He found his feet and pushed up and tried to scramble away, and succeeded, but was caught by another cat and put back down. There seemed to be no escape.

Suddenly, his attacker was thrown away as a flash of fur shot over him. Soon, the other cats were pulled away or turned to flee, and as soon as the small, confused kitten could get to his feet, he saw what had saved him. Three other cats were now in a fight with the remaining two attackers. One of them, a tan cat with one ear, was fighting the large white tom and the other two, who were much smaller, were fighting away a brindle she-cat.

There was a very sharp pain in his leg as he struggled to get away from the scene. He could smell blood, some being his own and much more being unfamiliar. He spun around and started running, his pace ragged as he limped. The searing pain in his leg got worse with every stride, but he didn't stop.

He ran for what seemed like forever, until his leg refused to move and simply dragged behind him. He had to stop, and found a small puddle. He drank his fill, slightly missing his water bowl at home where the water was clear and cool, even though the clinking bowl gave off a horrid metallic taste.

Once finished, still petrified, he found a tree and spent a long time struggling up it, as high as he could stand it. His stomach was still hurting, even worse than before, but he didn't dare come down to scavenge, not after what happened last time. He was shaking, the night air becoming colder and colder. He had no choice but to force himself higher onto a large branch, where he found a clump of thick branches, all coated with leaves, and snuggled inside, creating a small nest for the night. He was still cold, but now the temperature was bearable. He closed his eyes and hoped his rumbling stomach didn't give him away to anything that could have been lurking in the darkness.