Here is a short adventure in honor of live creative day.

Baxie grew up sheltered in a quiet neighborhood. She was adopted at a young age by a nice couple during a time of widespread illness. It had been challenging to connect with potential adoptees because they did not come in often. Some of those with her were shy and didn’t interact much with the people who came. She was one of the lucky ones, to be adopted.

Her new parents introduced her to her favorite person in the whole world when they arrived home. His name was Peter, and they had adopted him so many years before he was practically a grumpy grown-up. Initial attempts to invite Peter to play with her were met with derision and more than a little sniping at her, but she could tell he was lonely and kept poking. Eventually, he pounced back and ran around with her. They would snuggle up together for naps after their races.

People visit the family. While Peter loved meeting and talking to the guests, Baxie remained scared of them. She preferred her quiet family to herself. Those strangers could stay in their own homes as far as she was concerned. However, as she stared out their back window into the vast woodland surrounding their home, she wondered if something in nature might offer her more.

Her parents and Peter roamed around in the back woods. She watched them from the doorway, listening to the tweeting of birds and the chittering of squirrels. Oh! How she wanted to go out and romp with the forest animals. It seemed safe enough for the rest of her family, but every time she started to paw outside quietly, a louder sound reverberated through the trees.

Winter turned to another spring, and the days grew warmer with the sun peeking out between the clouds and the rain. It was her third year with her new family, and Baxie knew she wanted to take a risk. She wanted to – finally – bask in the sun and chase bugs or birds in the fresh air.

Baxie stepped forward onto the back stoop. Her nose twitched at the scents assaulting her senses, and her ears flicked fore and back on alert for the slightest sound of danger. The world was quiet. A gentle burbling of water and a breeze rustling the leaves. She kept moving, slipping between two trees flanking the perimeter of the open area where the family cooked.

The tree smelled good, so Baxie stopped to take a nibble. It tasted different than the food she normally ate, and the branch was still connected, so it whapped her in the nose when she let it go. The feeling of it against her whiskers made her huff a breath before continuing.

Exiting on the other side, she froze in place. Massive trees rose above her. Water rushed to the left, and a small hill trailed to the right. A rush of wings above claimed her attention, and she crouched low as her eyes narrowed on the object of her desires. Her heart rushed, and she felt her jaw move, making a quiet clicking. The bird sang, oblivious.

Baxie crouched. She wiggled her back legs, positioning them perfectly to pounce in an instant. The bird sang, then fluttered its wings before grooming them with its beak.

So close, she thought, I just need a step to get up there.

The thought was no sooner in her head when the bird took off from its perch and flew toward the water. Without hesitation, on instinct, she bolted after it. Their chase lasted mere seconds. It disappeared between the leaves of another tree, so she halted her fast pursuit and took up a stalking position. In the distance, someone called her name, but she ignored whoever it was, intent on her prey.

Step.

Another.

Soft paws. Quiet paws. Slowly.

The bird took off again for another tree, and she threw herself forward after it. Her name was called louder this time, but she again ignored them. Behind the waterfall and across the field, her claws dug into the soil and she bolted forward like a supreme hunter. Excitement flared in her chest as she pulled up beneath the next tree. She stalked at the base, assessing her best path to the top.

“Baxie, you crazy cat,” Mom said as she approached.

No! No! No! You’ll scare it away!

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as she was plucked off the ground and into welcoming arms.

“You can’t chase birds, silly. You’ll run out of the yard and get lost.”

Baxie had no idea what the words meant, but she stared back at the bird as she was carried back inside, her eyes narrowing on her prey. I’ll get you next time, she promised.