The Great Famine

The Great Famine
Soulstone looked around, his whiskers twitching. “Hey Lightwing!” He exclaimed to a white and golden Shecat. “Hi,” she said. “How’s Feathermist?” “Good.” “I’m going hunting, bye!” Soulstone walked over to Feathermist. Her wounds were bleeding again. Prey was getting scarce. Everyone was growing weak.