Day 1: The Death

                                                                                              Snugglings mother, Foxkit meowed out in his tiny voice. "Mother?" He pawed at her pelt trying to get her to move but no response came out of her. Tears had already made a trail down his muzzle. "Mother!" His meow was desperate this time afraid of what was going to happen if she did not wake. Though he knew by the blood on her pelt and his siblings forms that they were gone. He let out a high pitch meow into the setting sun. All alone that kit snuggling up to his mother assorbing her last bit of warmth in the cold morning. 

Day 2: The Awakening

Foxkit was left in darkness of the eerie, windless camp, left in a world so cold, his mother, siblings and clan mates laid dead right in front of him. He drifted asleep as he cried tears matter his pelt, a pelt full of scarlet. The last thing he remembered his mothers bloodsoaked pelt in front of him, as he sunk his nose into it. 

After that he remembered being carried as he regained and lost consciousness from hunger. The shivering cold piercing his pelt then the warmth of another body and the smell of milk that made him regain consciousness again.