Companions of Yesterday

The dark speckled fur should have been reassuring. It ought to have been a source of comfort like the protection of a nest against the winter's rough jabs, but it only made her stomach drop. He didn't smell right.

The tom picked up his square-ish head. His eyes dulled even in the moonlight that should have glistened in them. He blinked. A silvery ache ran down her belly. Her paws begged to run. The cave floor ran cold under her paws. An apology rang out in his eyes. She swallowed.

"Bug.. Bug That Flies in Wind," he started, "-it is my time to go."

She shook her head.