Lovely Creation - Chapter 8 Squirrel Nes

“What’s going on out here, Fallacy?” asked the red furred creature. He stood at the gate, beside the barn, just underneath her, and scratched the goat on her jaw.

“Did you step on a cat? I need you to have those babies so I can start getting milk again.” He looked around, not once looking up, and finally turned back towards his house.

Kitty had been struggling to keep her breathing even and quiet, but as soon as he left, she let out her breath on a whoosh of relief. The goat below her, Fallacy, looked up at her for a moment, then turned back to the barn stall she had come out of. Peeking over the edge, hanging almost upside down, she watched her settle herself with her overlarge stomach onto a patch of hay. Two other goats came running up, pausing at the gate to see if the creature was gone, before slowly joining her on the hay.

Kitty sat up and looked around. There were so many animals around here, she wondered if she could find a safe place to rest for the night, before attempting to find her home in the morning light. Her stomach growled, to remind her that she had yet to eat anything, but looking around, she didn’t see any patches of tall grass. If there wasn’t any tall grass, that meant no bugs to hunt. With a sigh, she walked to the other side of the barn, to see if there were any patches over there. Everywhere she looked, the grass was short.

What was she to do? The animals here needed to eat something.

Gliding down from the roof, she settled gently on the ground, watching the goats carefully. None of them seemed interested in leaving their beds to bother with her, so she looked around carefully. The cat, that had been sitting on a shelf at the end of the barn, was gone. Moving slowly, she crouched near the ground to be less visible as she creeped along. The stall where the cat had been last, was empty. She sat up and looked around, but she didn’t see it anywhere.

Entering the stall, she noticed a bowl shoved up underneath a landing, and went to investigate it. She had never seen a bowl before, and wondered about it. Inside was something that had a strange smell, not bad, but not exciting either. As she went to get a bite, a noise alerted her to the sneak attack.

Kitty fell over backwards as the cat jumped at her. Rolling to her side, she scampered as fast as her little legs would let her, out of the barn. Before she could spread her wings to try and fly away, another cat jumped at her. Snarling, she swiped at it’s face, before jumping to the side, and dashing into the yard, where the goats had been when she first arrived. The cats stopped following her, choosing to sit by the barn and watch her. She stopped and carefully looked around, including in the sky, expecting another attack. Why had they stopped attacking?

With a frown of annoyance, she headed to the fence, near the trees. She could see the white dog out near the cows, who had lay down for the night as well, still eating on the snake she had killed.

Why was everyone against her? Climbing the fence, she jumped and flapped her wings, aiming for a tree branch she was relatively certain she could reach. It wasn’t until she was walking along the branch that she stopped and realized what she had done. She had flown!

It wasn’t just a jump and glide, or a frantic escape from an enemy, it was an honest and true intentional flight!

Looking around for another branch, she crouched and jumped for it, flapping her wings and flying to it. Breathing hard in excitement, she spent the next hour and a half flying from one branch to another. The fear of falling was gone, as she knew that she would just glide if she missed or got too tired.

Glee overflowed her heart and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the fun she was having. Spying a squirrel nest, while she caught her breath, she grinned wide, and crouched. As soon as her breathing had calmed down, she jumped. The flight was so easy and quick, she was almost surprised when she arrived at the nest. It was a jumbled mess of sticks and leaves woven together into a haphazard ball. As she began attacking it, the squirrels inside scrambled to escape, but there was only one hole in or out, and Kitty wasn’t having any of that. She was hungry.

She hadn’t had squirrel meat since her mother fed her last. Taking the last squirrel, that she couldn’t eat but had killed, she examined the nest, and was disappointed there were no babies. She remembered her mother bringing the hairless pink grub-like things, and how much fun it had been playing with them before she ate them.

Looking around, she spied the lights of the house in the distance, through the branches. Did she want to return to the barn? The cats might try to steal her squirrel, and she didn’t want to watch the dog eat her snake. She was tired from her playing, and her belly was full of fresh squirrel meat, making her sleepy. If she tried to sleep out in the open, she risked being attacked by other predators.

Licking her hand clean after her meal, she absent-mindedly looked around, trying to find a decent answer to her dilemma. Movement caught her attention, and she watched as a rabbit stuck it’s head out from under a bush, and sniffed the air. It carefully looked around for quite a while, before slowly inching out from cover, and nibbling on a few strands of grass. Maybe she could follow that guy into a hole or hiding place?

Sitting high in the tree, she dozed while she waited for it to finish its meal. She kept glancing around to make sure no big birds were around to attack her, but it was getting harder and harder to keep an eye open. Finally, after what seemed forever, the rabbit moved back towards the bush and disappeared. With a sigh, she spread her wings and jumped out of the mess of a nest she had made.

Gliding down to the ground, she gently landed with hardly any noise, and sniffed at the bush. Just as she had suspected, the entrance to a hole presented itself, just under the low branches of the bush. Holding tight to her squirrel with one hand, she made her way into the burrow, looking forward to a well deserved rest.