The moon shone gently on the crashing river. Huge waves smashed into stone and frost lay gently around the riverbank. The starless sky was ebony-black against the white settling all around and icicles shone on branchless saplings. It would be seasons until the tiny tree would grow to be full-sized, and the river would still churn. By the shore of the stream stood a tiny black-and-gray kit. Her pale fur clung to her pelt and her rips jutted out. She struggled to stand on thin, bony legs but her amber eyes, half-closed with exhaustion, burned with determination. She breathed heavily and leapt into the river. This was not a decision that had been thought through, nor a cat that knew how to swim. Her skinny limbs flailed in the frigid water and she fought desperately for her head to reach above the surface. Cold! Cold! The water, which swirled all around her, was so cold it burned. She gasped for breath, only for liquid to flow into her lungs. She hacked terribly before resuming focus on the rocks, which she was about to smash into. Using all the small amount of her strength, she pushed away from the rocks. Her voice was too cracked from neglect to scream, our shout for help. Suddenly, her energy gave way. She stopped moving and bashed into the rocks. Pain shot through her body. She unsheathed her claws and gripped at a large rock-only her hind legs moved. She breathed a sigh of relief. I’m safe for now, she thought. Haven’t I learned not to think that? Her stomach lurched. She suddenly became aware that she was weak, too weak to hold on for long, and she couldn’t swim. It was likely-too likely that she would drown at any moment. The only chance to avoid this seemingly inevitable demise would be to get out of the water, but she could barely grip a rock. How would she? She let out a gasp. Her claws untightened, and she was free from the rock. Cold again… it was entangling her… Fight it… fight it… FIGHT! But the kit’s limbs wouldn’t agree with her mind. The river claimed her and tossed her back and forth in the currents… Suddenly, the world gave way. Everything was collapsing… folding, gently, perfectly, all around the bicolor she-cat. Darkness. That’s all she knew. “Greetings, Whisper.” The small cat looked up. Her pelt was no longer drenched in water, but sleek and shiny. All her scars were gone and you couldn’t see her ribs.
