TW: Animal death

Sometimes, the world is the most cruel to those who least deserve it.

The sunlight, as golden and sweet as honey, cast swaths of shadows dancing across the hard, rocky floor. Mischief, a marbled bengal with a puffy, caterpillar-like tail and striking markings along his back, swatted at a purple mouse with green ears. The mouse tumbled across the tile floor, and the little kitten scampered after it.

Mischief lowered into a crouch, wiggling his hindquarters as his eyes fixated on the toy.

His would-be pounce was interrupted by the creaaak of the door opening. Naturally, his short attention span was drawn from the little mouse and towards the young girl in the entryway.

He mewed, stumbling over his own paws to get to her, a purr rising in his throat. The girl chuckled and bent down to scoop him up, letting him rest against her chest. She murmured soft words to him, then put the small kitten on her shoulder.

He loved to ride on shoulders. High- anywhere high- and he was at home. He hunkered down, his purr growing, and nibbled at the human's hair. He wasn't a typical bengal cat, loud, rowdy, and exuberant, but rather calm and cuddly with his own mischievous flare.

He was Mischief. He was loved, he was cherished, and he was playful.

And nothing would ever change that.

The little kitten never seemed to grow despite how much food he ate. That didn't deter him, however, as he chased the purple and green mouse. His favorite toy bounced off a wall and he slammed into said wall trying to make too sharp of a turn. The girl sitting next to him chuckled and scratched him behind the ears. He twisted and pawed at her hand, claws sheathed. The human flopped over dramatically, laughing as the kitten lunged and batted at her face.

He was Mischief. He was strong, he was adored, and he was agile.

But as the weeks trekked on the little kitten seemed to lose his spark. The warm sunlight he loved to bathe in hurt his eyes. His stomach was round, yet he hadn't grown at all. His eyes had taken on a glassy hue.

Little Mischief curled in the darkened corner, his eyes barely open as he stared at his purple and green mouse.

He didn't want to play with it anymore.

A week later, he wasn't any better. He barely ate. His stomach was always full, yet he was always starving. His ribs pressed against his stretched skin, yet his belly was still round and full. His belly hurt.

His desire to climb to the highest peaks had subsided as he laid in the lowest corner of the room. It was the corner with the most shade.

The girl sat next to him, gently stroking his fur. He didn't bat at her hand.

Little Mischief wasn't so mischievous anymore.

The human put him in a carrier with his mouse. They took him somewhere clean and sterile, yet the smell of other animals was unmistakable. Mischief shied away from the harsh, glaring lights, curling into a small ball in the girl's lap.

He must've fallen asleep, because the girl accidentally awoke him. She was crying.

Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. He stretched, kneading her leg as he did so, and turned, ignoring the massive amount of effort it took to do so.

The girl wasn't looking at him, but her hands scooped around him protectively. The little kitten leaned against her hand, sinking back to his belly.

There was a stranger in the room. They had a long, thin needle. Maybe they had made the girl upset. How had he not noticed the stranger before?

The stranger walked over and stroked him behind the ears, but the kitten was focused on the girl's deteriorating mask. She was murmuring something to him, laced with comfort and love and grief.

Pain shot through his paw, but he didn't wince. It was all too heavy for him to wince. But as the blackness closed in, he shook his head. He was Mischief. He was strong. He would fight whatever was happening.

He would always fight.

But little Mischief couldn't fight forever.

Little Mischief was buried in the backyard with his little purple and green mouse.

For the dangers of Feline Infectious Peritonitis, a fatal feline disease whose cure has not been approved by the FDA.

For Mischief.