She claws her way up the river bank, shivering, afraid and wet.

She has to find her way back to the comfortable, soft nurturing she knew, before she was so suddenly in a bag with the others like her.

She calls and calls, to no avail. Tiny steps she takes. The wind blows and makes her cold. A rock offers a little shelter and warmth.

She cries and cries for the loss she feels, and the emptiness in her belly.
Dead leaves blow by and a grasshopper jumps off of the warm rock, to her delight.
She pounces on it, and crunches it with her tiny teeth. It isn’t warm and easy to swallow, like the milk she has always had. She looks for another, but nothing hops by again.
She walks and walks, away from the fierce water, through tall grass and over a rocky path.
The light fades and she is alone.
She finds a hedge to hide herself. She sleeps and dreams of purrs and warmth.
She opens her eyes to see the new day. She feels the sun all around her.
A woman walks carefully toward her, with something in her hand.
She is afraid and tries to hide in the hedge, but the woman is quick. She picks her up, wraps her in a blanket and speaks softly to her.
Soon she is in a cozy box on a hearth. She has plenty of milk to drink. The woman scratches behind her ears. She knows she is safe, forever.