[poppy]

Death was hunting for food. Her long claws itched to rip through fur. Yes... a plump rabbit sounded delicious right about now. She prepared to leap, but a sharp wave of pain rippled through her body. She let out a snarl of both agony and frustration. Death rolled onto her side, gasping for breath. The kits?! The kits were coming!
"Great timing." She muttered, but she wasn't mad at the kits. Mad at herself, more or less.