Rat in a maze

Whisper was drifting in and out of consciousness when the warmth enveloped her. Even though she was just a baby, she still had the ability to wonder if this was what dying felt like? The warm rough tongue dragging over her wounds pulled some whimpers from the child, the pain connecting her with the present enough to start to shiver. She burrowed into the soft fur that was beneath her, and one day she might even realise how vital the actions of her savior were to her survival.

Without her realising it, the girl had begun to cry. “Want mumma,” she managed to choke out between her whimpers and sobs. “Wanna go home.”

“Speech”