Frostkit rolled over. He was resting under a small bush at the edge of the clearing after his mother had kicked him out of the nursery for climbing the inside walls. He idly drug his claw through the dirt. It was turning out to be a really boring day. His stomach growled, reminding him that he had only eaten one meal that day. He pushed his way out of his shelter and padded toward the fresh-kill pile, kicking a small stone as he went. The clouds suddenly hid the afternoon sun and Frostkit shivered in the overcast. Giving the stone one last hard kick, he froze as it spun directly toward a cat standing near the fresh-kill pile.
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Nightmare