If it weren’t for her skill of swimming, Chubby would’ve drowned. She remembered when she was only a kitten, her owner always put her in a small bathtub and tried to train her. It was almost as if her owner knew that this day would come.

Chubby quickly climbed out of the pond/river.

Cold and shivering, she started her way back on the ground. It was at that time that she realized it was already night. I need to get back to camp, she thought. Although that was something in her mind, she also thought about who had pushed her in. She suddenly remembered: she had gray fur. Could it be the same cat who saved them in the woods? And if it is, why would the cat attack her? There were so many questions but none of them could be answered, for now, at least.

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As soon as she tried to walk, her legs sored, or she might’ve broken a bone: none of those options would be good. I guess I was swimming really hard. But that wasn’t the only problem, she was hungry for food. Chubby soon realized that she might starve to death before her leg got better. She panicked even more.

“Help!” Chubby staggered with fear.

Despite her pleading, time wasn’t on her side. The moon was up, and morning wasn’t going to come for hours.

The moon smiled at her, no, it was smirking at her.

Chubby tried yelping again.

No one answered.