A kit fell down the hill next to her. The soft dark brown fur was still fluffy and light with white kit fluff still all over him, meaning he was less than a half moon old. He hadn't even opened his eyes get, mewing pitifully. A few seconds later a patrol of Klineleaf Cats Came out of the brush, and started poking and batting at the kit, sneering at it and making fun of it. He wailed and pawed blindly at the air, but the cats just spat and hissed with laughter and malicious intent. He squeaked loudly as a paw hit him with clas sheathed and he was flung into his back, his belly exposed. He flailed trying to right himself, still mewling and meowing in distress.