HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE HUMAN ⟡ deadly encounter

[Simon F.M.]

Diya was, and always had been, an early riser. But, somedays, she chose to sleep in and enjoy the sleepy mornings next to her lover's side. This morning had been one of them. Perhaps if she had awoken earlier, had heard the small patter of pebbles against glass, she could have prevented what would unfold. She could have chatsized the kittens, sending them away and keeping her son firmly by her side. There would have been no encounter of the near deadly kind, no exhausted kittens. She would never know this, of course, as she had not been awake.

Instead, she had finally risen and slipped out of bed, enlarged canines glistening in the sunlight that filtered in through the windows. She would close her mouth with a smack, contemplating when the last time she ate was. Oh, had that been before the kids had been born? That was a problem, but she could deal with it later. For now, it was time she started to get up the kiddos for breakfast. She would start with where Finnegan should be and, seeing his bed empty, check where her other children slept, hoping he had spent the night with one of his other siblings.

Nothing.

Her stomach twisted, panic settling deep into her chest as she slipped from her home, tail lashing. Her head swung as she scanned the beach, searching for her spotted son. Her throat tightened as she heard a loud worry, fear grasping her mind. She lept from her porch, racing towards the sound in a panic. Sand puffed up in clouds behind her, pale eyes with failing eyesight struggling to find her child, vision clouded even more by the falling rain. It took longer than she would have liked to spot his form laying on the beach. She would slow to a jog, not wanting to stumble over the child, before slowing to a stop beside him, worriedly sniffing at his pelt.

"Mon nounours," she would say softly, gently running her young over the top of his head, hoping to wake him up. He seemed fine, no blood on his pelt and breathing acceptable. Her mind went to the roar she'd heard, wondering what beast had dared go after her poor son. Perhaps, later, she would find out. She'd need a meal soon, anyways, wouldn't she? For ow though, her attention was on her son, who she would once again nuzzle, attempting to wake. "Mon nounours, Finnegan dear, please wake up," she said softly, worriedly.