Stealth Kitty: Mission Impossible

Regulus hunkered low in a leafless bush, watching the deer busily nibbling away at whatever forage it could find. Despite it’s clearly huge appetite, the deer was bony, save for its bloated looking stomach. It wasn’t a female, instead being a young buck maybe only a year old. Regulus puzzled over the creatures condition. It was like it was eating well, but something was sapping the fat off its bones. If his mother had been with him, she could have told him that the yearling had intestinal parasites; worms. Something about the bucks condition made Regulus edgy, and for once, he left the easy kill alone. He stood, and the buck startled, bounding away with its bloated belly.Regulus could have caught it easily and brought it down; the buck didn’t seem to have the energy to go any faster than a few bounces before it broke to a trot.

He waffled, then decided he would take it after all, and take it home to his mother; she could tell him if the animal was safe to eat or not. He charged, coursing the deer the length of the valley before the sick creature gave up. He hit hard and fast, taking his favorite killing blow; snapping the bucks neck as soon as he’d borne the deer to the ground. He let the dead animals head drop from his jaws and shook out his coat. Snow had come and gone several times the last few weeks. His second winter would be here in no time. He cast a look to the sky, which was laden with heavy stone grey clouds, full of more snow. He snatched up his kill and began dragging it toward home.

~

When he reached home, he was disappointed to find that his kill had indeed been a bust. His mother had taken one sniff and backed away with a shake of her head. Worms. It wouldn’t be good for us to get them with winter so close. They’re hard to eradicate from your body once they get there. I suggest leaving this one for the ravens and any other scavengers that want it. Thank you for trying though.” He’d followed her suggestion, dragging it far off from the Plains and leaving it on a high rock in the desert areas for the scavengers. So now he was back on the hunt again, hoping to find a better kill. An old bull elk would be nice, they were, his mother had said, losing their antlers, making them a tad less dangerous.

He ranged a ways, back to the Valley, his favorite hunting area. He settled in the tree line above the ten mile wide bowl valley, watching the herds that for some reason seemed to like this area in the cold months. Maybe because the high edges blocked wind. He sighed and settled his chin on his paws, watching them mill about, foraging and grazing on what remained of the grass. Cinder popped out of the bushes, curling against his shoulder as she too stared out at the prey animals. "Raibh mé in ann dul síos agus scout iad?" She suggested, squirrel-like rust and soil fluffy tail twitching as she glanced between Regulus and the herds.

Regulus looked at his little friend. "Tá siad i bhfad níos mó ná tú, luaith. D'fhéadfá a fháil árasán a bhrú ach ag ceann amháin stepping ar an bealach mícheart.?" He answered, a hint of worry on his baritone voice. The cat swatted his ear with a pawful of claws, sitting a bit straighter, chin tipping up in indignation. "Anois tú ag éisteacht anseo, tá tú oaf mór dearg. Tá mé beag bídeach i gcomparáid le iad, ach go ciallaíonn Tá mé níos lú faoi deara dóibh. Níl mé i mbaol ina súile. Agus tá mé i bhfad go dtí Fhomhair a bheith gafa faoina chosa má fhéachann agam cá bhfuil mé ag dul."

Regulus gave it a long moment of consideration, then sighed, relenting.  "Fine. Ach a bheith cúramach, cat luaith." He grumbled. nosing the Somali before she bounded off into the valley, slipping in with the herd.