
Tired and scared, too, but no feeling dominated Wren's mind and body, all-consuming, as hunger did. Her tiny body had somehow become a vast cavern, each pang of hunger a bouncing echo, persistent in their reverberations.
Wren had long lost count of how many days had passed since her journey began. Too many, in the young molly's opinion. Her heart ached for everything that grew further with each step she took. Why did her mom send her away? Knowing how great the distance between her and her mother spanned was more painful than malnourishment- insurmountable, for all that Wren had been the one to create it. But Wren promised to listen to her mother's instructions, simple and firm directions to march away from their home and never to look back.
Unfailing compliance had brought Wren to her current location, plodding slowly past tall, snow-covered oaks. A ways back, she had crossed a pungent scent line that unsubtly screamed "Cats live here! A whole lotta them! And we're bigger than you! Hesitancy gripped the kitten only momentarily. For all such markings were a threat, a warning to any who dared to trample past, it was a promise, too. Other cats meant food, Wren had learned early on. You just had to be sneaky and fast enough to steal it- the Outside was not much different than the mill, in that regard. For all kittenhood gave her clumsy limbs and loud missteps, she'd still managed to steal enough to fuel her travels, even if the victims of her food theft had managed to get a few swats in revenge.
Consumed by memories of her past successes, the kitten was unaware of how each step she took crunched, snow compacting to form a condemning trail of tiny paw prints of a tiny thief. All of her previous scores had been from others like her- older, but cats surviving on their own, with meager meals to show for it. This forest seemed to boast of a much larger population, and surely, to Wren's young mind, that meant a significant food supply was ripe for the picking.