Willow West froze for just a moment, then hurried toward the base of the tree.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?"
Willow West made her voice as gentle as possible, afraid a sudden sound would startle the little boy in the tree.
The little boy heard her voice and looked down to see the pretty lady below.
He sheepishly pulled back his hand, a bit flustered and scared.
"Miss, someone hung the kitty in the tree! The poor thing!"
The little boy wore a hat, his frail body covered by a hospital gown.
He was wearing a hospital gown, and his face was pale. One of his little arms was so thin it was just skin and bones, and an IV catheter was still taped to the back of his hand.
The filthy little cat was tangled in ribbons that were cinched uncomfortably tight around its body. It had been hung from a branch, likely by some cruel prankster.
The little cat cried out in pain, its MEWS incredibly weak.
