Felidae was shortlisted for the 2018 Fair Australia Prize, and the 2018 Newcastle Short Story Award. It was first published in the Newcastle Short Story Award anthology by Hunter Writers Centre.
He is the only one of the litter who lives. I wrap the tiny stillborn bodies in the bloody cloth she birthed them on and carry them out. She rolls away from the muck and pain of it, and I take up the last one in my paws, his skin slick with her insides, so little the curve of his back cups in the fold of my palm. I blow gently on his nostrils, clearing the blood away for the air. I see how much of my Aidan is in him already: the slanty face, the tawny eyes. I put my tongue against the strip of fur growing down his back and drag it along the length of his body, tasting her blood. She turns to watch me, pushing herself up in the damp sheets, her body trembling. I hold the cub out to her, his tiny paws with the half-human fingers curled.
‘You had better give him a feeding. Don’t want no mewling from the little thing.’
He wiggles in my hands, the blood drying sticky on his pinky skin. She takes him and holds him against her chest, his teeth needle at her nipples, sharp and fierce. She looks afraid, like all new ness do, and I put my paw against her face, wiping away the sweat and tears, kissing her tangled hair.
‘You should call him Leo, like the big lion in the stars.’