(For WarriorsOfTheCentury contest)

Wind whispers through the bramble den
Invisible voices tickling his ears
Their gentle caresses soothing
The dying tom

Through his pale amber eyes
His life stretches before him
Full of joy and sorrow,
Victory and loss

With a regretful sigh, he thinks of his kits
And the life they will lead without him
Yet his heart aches for the sweet purr
Of his deceased mate

He silently bids farewell
To his kin and Clan
Rising from his mossy nest
In the old bramble den

He steps free of his earthly constraints
Figure strong with youth
towards the star-speckled she-cat
With the blue eyes

And together, tails twined,
They stroll into the stars