"Mama, we got you a mouse from the fresh-kill pile!"

Patchfrost lifted her tortie-point head and glanced at the two kits before her.

"Thank you, but mama isn't very hungry right now, kits."

The queen could see her two sons wilt before her eyes. She immediately felt guilty.

"But I'll take a couple of bites. Would you like to share it?"

Her kits perked up quickly. They snuggled in beside her and took turns biting a small chunk away from the body of the mouse.

In truth, Patchfrost was starving. Her belly growled softly and her mouth filled with saliva just from looking at the small critter.

But she only allowed herself a couple of tiny, dainty bites. Nothing else.

The kits finished the rest, oblivious to how little their mother consumed.

She sent them away to bury the bones, while she cursed herself quietly in the nursery.

"I'm so stupid." She muttered, beginning to pace.

She stalked angrily out of the den and out of camp, her tail lashing. No cat looked up as she left.

She walked until she was in the middle of the forest. She sat down next to a puddle and looked at her reflection.

She saw a pretty tortoiseshell point Siamese molly with blue eyes. Her legs were long and thin, her tail even thinner.

But it was her body that pleased her the most.

It was skinny, and to a normal cat, unhealthily so. But on Patchfrost's eyes, it looked perfect.

The extra fat from kitting and nursing was gone, and she was just skin and bones. She felt beautiful.

But she still felt bad. She felt guilty. She shouldn't have eaten that mouse. She had to rid herself of the poison she had consumed.

The mouse would taint her beauty. She would be ugly once more.

She resumed walking, this time with her nose high in the air. She needed to find yarrow.

When she finally found some, it was well past sunhigh. She nipped the plants out of the ground and carried them to a secluded area, covered with moss and ferns.

She ate the yarrow.

Violent pains gripped her stomach, and she felt the bile rise in her throat. She leaned over and vomited up the mouse she had eaten that morning.

She kept retching until she was simply dry heaving. Her vomit was laced with flecks of blood.

She groomed herself quickly, scraped some dirt over her sick, and headed back to camp.

•••

"Patchfrost, are you okay?" The former kittypet looked up as her name was called.

The elder Leopardbranch was sitting in the weak leaf-bare sun.

"I'm fine. Thank you though." Patchfrost called back. She turned to head towards the nursery, where her two kits were tossing a moss ball back and forth.

She felt a tail rest on her shoulder. It was Leopardbranch.

"Your kits are fine right now. They're having fun. How about we chat for a while? I have some good stories."

Patchfrost held in a sigh, but allowed the elderly she cat to lead her into her den.

She sat down and curled her tail neatly over paws, waiting. Leopardbranch sat down stiffly in front of her.

The sandy tabby she cat leaned close to Patchfrost and whispered in her ear,

"I know what you've been doing."

•••

Probably gonna be a part two to this, since it got a little long. I'll add trivia at the end of the next chapter.