The evening was silent, only the pitter patter of rain and crickets chirping was to be heard. In the distance, you could faintly make out two pairs of paws trudging through a thin layer of snow. And amidst the pink glow of the setting sun, a lonely female lynx stood, staring in despair at the two retreating shapes.
Once they were out of view, she slumped down. Her belly was swollen and large, carrying a single kitten. A second lynx - significantly smaller than the first - jumped down from a nearby tree, sending a shower of snow onto the first lynx. But she didn't even flinch. Just crouched there, her head bowed. The second lynx, her daughter, sat down heavily next to her, dipping her head. She seemed confused, but didn't question it as she sat and mourned with her mother.
The rain got heavier, creating small puddles of mud amongst the snow, but the two shapes still sat there, hunched.