when we realised they were inside us
Skin and bones and unkempt fur had watched with mercurial eyes as the cat tried to steal away the fawn. Hidden in the late summer grass she had been watching the mother for days, with her dappled silvered fur and a bobbed tail so like her own. The stump twitched at the comparison as a black lip pulled back over one pale tooth in a sneer. If the cat took down the prey, she could run it off easily enough she was sure. The mother would want to protect her child above all else, and a wolf was a threat to them both.
Neither one of them saw the stag until it broke from the trees, its bellow filled with enough rage to freeze her marrow. Her muscles tensed beneath her as the scrawny cat tried to flee with the fawn still dragging behind, flailing limps and weakening bleats protesting less with every step the feline took. Eek’s pulse was thundering in her skull, her ears straining atop her head, eyes wide. Was it fascination or horror that held her so transfixed? Thunder rolled in the distance, drowned out by the thundering of the stags flailing hooves. A yowl cut short made her flinch, a slow smile working its way to her face as the stag nosed the dead fawn, its mother keening in the distant strand of trees. The dull thud of a final kick, a last fuck you to the murderer of his daughter and all was silent.
How many hours had passed she wondered as the sun grew low in the sky, not daring to move until the night would conceal her desecration of the young fawn’s corpse. She would gorge herself without competition and when the sun rose she would return to the outcrop where she knew the bobcat had stowed her child. It wasn’t her own, but she would love it like it was.
Days had slowly morphed into a week and each day the child grew weaker. It couldn’t run away from her affections anymore, its wobbling limbs would not permit it. She had bought the child what she could scavenge on her own, bits of bone and feathers, an eggshell, some moss. But it wasn’t enough. The bobcat child was curled between her paws now, gaunt face with eyes tightly shut, shudders of starvation and illness wracking it’s tiny body as her tongue passed lovingly over the child, grooming it in a way her mother never groomed her. Suddenly the shaking ceased and panic threw bile into her throat, a growl growing as she nudged the child. Not again, not again, Nonononooo… In her frustration she rose, grabbing the child in her powerful jaws and flinging its lifeless body against an ancient oak but it still refused to wail out with need.
Red.
Waste not want not.
Now, as it was then, thunder rolled overhead, but she did not seek out shelter, choosing instead to top off her bloated belly with the cool crisp water of the Lagoon. The fur and megre flesh was enough to fill the hollowness of her stomach but nothing was going to fill the gaping hole in her heart. It wasn’t her fault. It was never her fault. The last time she had scented her brother @Gent she had run in the opposite direction, but enough was enough.
Life could have been so good. Somebody had to pay for her misery.