I think I'd decided to sneak out that night, even before we got back.

I waited until it was dark, curling up beside Bonny without a fuss when our mother said we had to. I burrowed into the soft blanket beside her, one eye half-open, watching, waiting, anxiously. Bonny went out like a light, but it had taken a while for our mother to go to sleep, and even after that the twolegs had kept on wandering around the house. I could hardly sit still. In my mind, I was forming a plan, albeit a simple one: run out the catflap, and into the forest.

When everything has gone quiet, I cautiously rose, being careful not to disturb anyone. I slipped through the catflap, wincing at the sound that it made, but it didn't appear to wake anyone. No-one called after me.

I padded out across the grass. Moonlight lit up the surroundings well enough to see clearly. And it was clear, at least, that the fence was tall. I unsheathed my claws, trying to gauge whether I could get enough of a grip on it to climb. I was small, and light - it wasn't impossible - but it wasn't very probable either. My father hadn't exactly done it easily, anyway.

I scanned the bottom of the fence for any sign of weakness - any wood that had been worn away. No sign.

My shoulders slumped, and disappointment stabbed at my belly. Was that it? Was this just going to be some huge anticlimax?

I was about to turn to go inside, but a flash of movement, a rustle in the grass, caught my eye. Ears angled in the direction of the sound, stared at the clump of flowers where it had come from for a few moments, flicked my tail, then padded towards it.

There was a faint scent I didn't recognise - not a cat scent, that much was certain. And it didn't smell much like twolegs either. I pushed through the flowers, searching for the noise's source. Parting the tall stems with my nose, I approached the fence, only to find a hole, a tight squeeze to get through, but a hole nonetheless.

Eyes brightening with excitement and anticipation, I judged the size of the hole with my whiskers. I would absolutely not fit, but I pushed my face towards it anyway. Bonny had said once that a cat can fit through any space they can get their head through, since we don't have collarbones or something. Challenge accepted.

I flattened my ears, pressing my face against the hole, then rotating my head to try and go through sideways. If I could just get past my nose, that would be it, I'd be through. I pushed with a little bit more force, hissing as my nose grazed the hard wood. A throbbing pain shot through it, but I ignored it, gritting my teeth, forcing the rest of my head through, shoulders and legs following relatively easily behind. (See: I twisted around for a solid three minutes trying to figure out how to get a single foreleg through, and ended up literally pushing myself along the grass with my flank literally pressed to the ground.)

Emerging from the gap, I internally let out a victorious yowl, and pelted away from the fence, glancing back over my shoulder, watching the garden and the twolegplace get smaller and smaller. Dropping my jaw slightly, I took in the scents around me. I could smell leaves, water, scents of animals (prey?) which I had never encountered.

And soon enough I felt the rough bark of a tree as I charged directly into it.

I staggered, shaking my head to clear it. Now, ahead of me, the grass was shadowed by the canopy overhead, with only dappled moonlight reaching the forest floor. The trees were bigger, and wilder than the ones in twolegplace. The silence, the lack of twoleg monsters, and twoleg scents, was liberating.

I was quickly pulled back to reality, however, by a harsh throbbing in my nose. I tried to look down it, probably crossing my eyes in the process, but couldn't see what was there. Probably a splinter from the fence, I thought drily. Bloody fences.

I sat back on my haunches and raised my forepaws to try and pull it out. This proved to be a difficult task. I wasn't skilled at balancing on my back legs, couldn't see what I was doing, hadn't grown into my paws yet, and didn't have particularly good motor skills. (Thumbs probably would have helped too.) Ultimately, I overbalanced, and fell backwards. After a few repeats of this process, I gave up.

Doing my best to push away the pain, (which was getting less painful but adversely more annoying,) I padded deeper into the trees, eyes stretched wide, taking in everything. Unused to the uneven ground beneath my feet, I tripped and stumbled enough times to squash any scrap of dignity in my possession when I'd entered the forest in the first place, but was largely unfazed by this nonetheless.

Everything was totally unfamiliar. Birdsong drifted down from the canopy. Leaf litter crunched underfoot, and dappled shadows coated the ground. A small animal rustled in the bushes ahead. My whiskers twitched. Maybe I could try and catch the thing.

I lowered myself towards the ground, keeping forward, scanning with all the relevant senses. The ferns were moving a few feet away. I narrowed my eyes, trying to peer through my darkness.

A mouse darted out, and I unsheathed my claws as it looked right at me. It sat back on its haunches for a couple of seconds, observing my inaction, then shot away again, across the clearing. I grinned. I just saw a mouse!

Still wondering at the newness of the tiny creature, I tried to memorise it. The soft curve of its ears, the size of its body, it's grey-ginger fur. It's tiny, black eyes, it's thin tail, and the way it moved, zooming across the forest floor as if it didn't even have legs. The way the moonlight cast its tiny shadow on the leaves underneath it. My heart was thundering in my chest, and I was elated by my surroundings.

I trotted through the forest, memorising everything. The curve of the trees, the twist of their roots, the way rocks jutted out of the soil and leaf litter, the colours of the ground beneath me. A faint breeze began to blow, picking leaves up off the ground, blowing them away, tugging at my fur.

Suddenly, a squirrel darted across my path, its bushy red tail bobbing up and down behind it. Instinctively, I darted after it, chasing it. The squirrel glanced over its shoulder, let out a terrified squeak, and put on more speed.

I pelted through the forest, pursuing it, discarding any thoughts of being tired later. The wind in my fur, the dark greenery racing by me, it almost made the pain of the splinter in my nose go away. The squirrel certainly wasn't getting any closer - as I began to tire, the distance increased. Soon, I came to a stop, my chest heaving, my eyes still glowing brightly. This was so good. Everything was so good.

I took a deep breath. Time to go home.

I glanced behind me, trying to discern where I had gone. My stomach dropped. I turned in a full circle. Nothing looked familiar. There was no trace of twoleg-scent here. I swallowed. Mousedung.

Another circle. My eyes were no longer stretched wide with excitement - now, they were stretched open with fear. Ohhhhhh Fleeter. What have you done.

Suddenly, the tall trees and their dark shadows weren't comforting. They were terrifying. I just wanted to be home.

Panicking, I picked a random direction, and ran. Staying where I was certainly wasn't any good, and I figured I could reach the edge of the forest, and then go back around it. It couldn't be that big, right? Nothing was ever that huge.

I unsheathed my claws as I heard a crow caw above me. Suddenly, the feeling that someone was watching came over me, and I ran harder. This has been a bad, bad idea. I shouldn't have come here - not alone. Regret twisted in my stomach, adrenaline pulsing through my veins, now in a bad way. I just needed to get away. I needed to go home.

Then I tripped. A root, concealed by the thick carpet of leaves, hit my forepaw, and I lost my footing. I skidded along the leaves, then overbalanced, falling, continuing to slide, losing any sense of which way was up.

I let out a squeal as the ground collapsed from underneath me. I dug my tiny claws into the ground, panting hard, but I was slipping - I was on the edge of a ravine, peering over the edge. I scrambled to grip something solid, but only got clawfuls of leaf, and slid over the edge.

There was a squeak of pain as I bounced against a rock. I continued to try and grip the edge with shaking paws, but to no avail - my downward descent wasn't stopping.

Then my head smashed against something hard, and everything went black.

***

When I woke up, it was morning. The throbbing in my nose was gone, but there was a large cat towering over me, prodding my flank.

Head still reeling, I let out a wordless yowl, and scrambled away, taking a couple of seconds to analyse the situation. Good things: splinter in nose removed, consciousness regained.

Bad things: stranded in the middle of the forest, facing a wildcat with the size and strength to kill a kitten.

I tensed up, my spine coiling, taking a half-step backwards. Oh, foxdung.

Chapter by Leafy ^^