By Gigglepaw
A large, cold surface sat in the dirt, a large box, somewhat like a computer with a chair attached. On the end was a clock and a sled, which was pulled by the machine.
A young she-cat walked toward it, then gasped in horror as the machine puffed out a cloud of glitter. Then it was gone.
“No!" she yowled,running towards it. “Some cat! Help! My den...my kits were in there....help!" she yelled as she chased the cloud. But the machine was gone. Shaking glitter off her fur, she let out a wail of pure agony.
Her den had been unusual, yes, but it was warm and cozy and she had only left her kits for a moment.
Now they were gone.
She had no idea where the kits had gone, or if they were coming back. Would they? COULD they?
A tom walked up behind her. “We'll find them," he whispered. She turned on them, fury in her gaze.
“YOU'RE the one who made that thing work! You KNEW they would push the button! This is all your fault!"
Storming off, she left him there, nodding in agreement. She was far away now, too far to hear him, but he murmured it anyway.
“It's all my fault."
The last traces of glitter were gone now, except for one little bit that had landed on a leaf. Taking it, he walked off with the last thing that he had of his kits.