I took part in John Boynes 300 word short story competition
Moonrise by Rachel age 12
Moss padded across the moorland in the direction of the forest. The scent of the prey he had just caught which dangled from his mouth, drifted up his nostrils and flooded his senses. His ears pricked up as he heard Heather, his mate, cry into the night. He clamped his jaws tighter around his hare and pelted across the grassy hillside, his belly fur brushing against the tough, springy grass. Heather had given birth to four healthy pups the day before. They must be in danger, why else would she cry out like that? Moss thought desperately. The vixens cry had sounded urgent. The thought made him push himself faster, his tail streaming out behind him.
As he reached the hollow tree, they had made their den in, a new scent blended with the salty tang of his hare’s blood. He slowed to a trot as he approached the entrance. He dropped the hare into the prey hole and entered the den. He was surprised to find a tiny white bundle of fur squirming for a spot at her mother’s belly beside her red and grey litter-mates. “She came just after I called, I decided to name her Wren” Heather growled softly as she nosed Wren to a free spot beside her litter-mates.
Wren stretched luxuriously and blinked open her eyes as gold dusk light filtered into the den. Her brothers, Boulder, River, Finch and Conker had awoken a few moments after her and had begun clambering out of the den followed by their mother. Memories of her dream flooded into her head. It had been such a vivid dream. She had the same dream for the past few nights. Each time jolting her awake, the gentle light of the moon bathing her soft white pelt. Her destiny was beginning.