Creative Writing: The Mockery

Sage had been waiting for this moment since he woke up. As he watched from the shadow of a blackberry bush, a young black and white molly appeared with a blackbird in her jaws. Crouching low, Sage dug his hind claws into the soil. His amber eyes followed the molly’s paws as she walked down a branch that had fallen on a thick rise of blackberry thicket. The rising sun’s light danced through the forest canopy and dappled the fur on the molly’s pelt. She hopped down from the branch, her white paws falling right into Sage’s path. Pupils widening with excitement, the kitten brought his prey into focus. Sage’s little tail, striped with ginger and cream, thrashed wildly. As her whiskers twitched around the bird, the molly flicked a black ear in the

Instead, she simply turned her head to watch as Sage leapt into her flank and fell to the ground at her paws with a puff of dust. Sage held back a sneeze. Slowly blinking her yellow eyes, she purred and swatted gently at the kit’s ears. He swatted back, claws extended. His tiny flailing white paws hit empty air. The molly pushed him away with a gentle paw pressed to his striped cheek.

The molly placed the bird on the ground at her paws. “I could hear your tail brushing the ground,” she mewed, nudging Sage to his paws again though his ears were flattened with disappointment. “There’s always next time,

He just has a hard head.”

“Hard head? I was just being nice, flea brain.”

“I don’t have fleas!” Night’s ears shifted back and her fur began to lift upward.

“That’s not even what I said!”

Fawn sighed and flicked her feathery tail with irritation. The kittens paid her no notice. Night’s eyes opened wide as she settled into a crouch. Sage laid his ears back and stared her down. Preparing for Night’s incoming pounce, he settled heavy onto his haunches. Their tails swished the ground in unison. Sage heard soft pawsteps beside him.

“Aren’t you two hungry?” asked Soot. Nettle and Fawn shot the molly grateful glances.

“I bet you two were too busy bickering to hear Milk and Sparrow return from hunting,” meowed Nettle. She squinted her blue eyes as she teased the kits, showing that there was no sting to her words.

The kittens locked eyes. Amber to kit-blue. They dropped their ears simultaneously and lowered the fur on their hackles. They knew Nettle was right.

“Night,” said Soot, “you still haven’t had much prey, have you?” Night shuffled her paws. “I bet you haven’t tried minnow, then. Milk said he was going to catch some for you today.” Soot ducked her head as she entered the