When it was dark, I struck out again. I wondered what had become of my mother and my siblings. I couldn’t smell them. There were plenty of cats around, but none of them reminded me of my early life. I caught the scent of a tom cat that had claimed the area I was in and it put my hackles on edge. My mother had to fight off toms when we lived in the alley. I knew they could be trouble. Sure enough, an orange tom hissed and yowled at me, chasing me until I was out of his territory. I didn’t stop running until the smell of the humans town was behind me.

In front of me was a deep darkness. Instead of human houses and structures, trees towered over me their leaves rattling and whispering in the slight breeze far above me. I had always been an eager, effective killer. I could take care of myself from now on. The village with its familiar alleys and huts was not my home. Perhaps the woods could be.

I found a hollow at the base of a tree that was dry and didn’t smell of any other animal. I stayed there the night and it became my home.

The forest attracted me immediately. It rose up much higher than the human structures of the town. It smelled more intricate and diverse. There was plenty of blood to be found in it. Meals would not be a problem. Hunting might be a challenge here since I didn’t feel like I’d be a great climber. I could leap and jump pretty high, but some animals lived in the tip top of the trees which I couldn’t reach. It smelled like there would be no shortage of food if only I could kill it.

The animals of the forest were diverse - furry, scaly and feathered. So even the blood promised to be different and interesting. Other creatures strolled the woods; some in the night and some during the day. They creeped through the soft earth of the forest - padding, slithering, prancing.

There was the smell of dead and rotting things. Fresh and stale water. So many smells to be investigated. I had to open my mouth to get a better sense of the smells. Slaking my thirst was easy with all the puddles and ponds that could be found. My need for blood and meat was harder to sate.

There were plenty of mice and birds that would occasionally drop low enough for me to snatch. But, I couldn’t eat as frequently as I would have liked. Some days I would have nothing to show for my day of hunting.

Once, a group of funny animals ran past my den that I hadn’t encountered before. They smelled strongly, had fur and small cloven hooves. Some were small enough that I thought I could catch one for a good meal. I followed the group and focused on a small one that was lagging behind the rest. I crouched and calculated when it was in perfect reach before I pounced.

When I bit down behind the head, coarse hairs tickled my nose and whiskers but I only scratched its neck. I hadn’t bitten it hard enough to immobilize or kill it. The blood was warm and tasty, and my claws were sunk into its back, so I could bite it again. Before I could go in for another bite, the little creature made a terrible loud noise as it panicked and I felt a pinch in my side. I let go of the little squealer and had to hop out of the way of an large adult that was attacking me.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

This surprised me as they didn’t smell like carnivores and I’d seen them eating acorns and knocking over plants for food. I hissed at the big adult, but it charged me and nearly got me again with one of the short tusks protruding from its mouth. Another adult dashed over to join the fray and I panicked and ran up a tree hoping they couldn’t follow. They were much too large for me to try and kill.

No amount of hissing or growling on my part made any difference to the dark, hairy adults who snorted back at me for my trouble until the group had moved on. I had never encountered animals that would protect each other like that. Usually, a bird would be on its own if I snatched it away from the flock.

I tended the wound in my side that evening which just added to the pain of an empty stomach. The wound was not deep, but my confidence was shattered. I was only beginning to realize my lack of knowledge. Mother had taught us how to live in the village. Life here was quite different.

This forest edge began to feel like a poor substitute for the human village. I longed for something different, something better. Would my bad luck always catch up with me or could I find a place where it couldn’t find me?

When dusk fell, something told me it was time to go. I crept silently through the forest, hopping up on roots and crouching under shrubs and low-hanging branches. The forest, which had become a familiar place changed as I walked. I smelled new plants and animals. Some plants seemed like they would be good to chew on and others gave me a deep fear in my belly, like they might give me an ache from which I would never recover.

I walked a long way. I could no longer smell the village nor any human. Many unfamiliar animal scents filled the air. The pang of emptiness from my stomach was growing more acute. It was all I could think about. Then, I smelled smoke from a fire. I paused. I knew smoke meant humans, so I considered giving the area a wide berth and continuing past.

Cutting through the smell of smoke was another smell. The smell of something powerful and dangerous, but also enticing and delicious. It was a mixture of elements: blood, roots, leaves, and claws. Mouth watering, I forgot about the possible danger an unknown human could be and walked right up to a wooden hut in the middle of the deep woods toward that smell.

I could see light streaming from underneath the door and from a window. I leapt up to the sill, landing silently, and then I shifted so I could peer around the curtains which were not drawn together. I blinked twice to adjust my eyes to the light of the fire burning in a large fireplace and looked inside.

There was a big black pot filled with a bubbling mixture. A woman was stirring it with a large wooden paddle. She stepped back and cocked her head.

“Maybe a little more blood…” she mumbled. She turned to her table, grabbed a knife and black bird, cutting off its head and poured some blood from it’s body into the bubbling liquid. Sparks flew from it and the mixture spluttered. For a moment, I feared the fire would spread, but then the liquid settled down and smelled even more enticing than it had before. I licked my lips. The woman muttering to herself, circled a delicate hand over the liquid, and then, she froze. She turned and looked me right in the eyes.

“So, you finally made it!”