Sullivan's heart pounded as he pelted away from the Humans' house. He had been prisoner there for a long time, and he had lost count of the seasons that had past. The Humans had caught him when he was a kit, and they had killed his mother along with his two siblings as the human child carried him away. Sullivan ran faster, scared that the humans were close behind him. He had to hide somewhere, but this open field was sparse of good hiding places. His white flame-point fur stood out against the green summer grass.
He was running out of choices. The sun was setting, and his stomach rumbled with hunger, anxiety, and pure uncanny terror. He didn't know where he was, and was far away from the human house/prison for cats so he couldn't turn back now. But soon as he ran until sundown, he collapsed from exhaustion, his white fur now muddy and brown. His paws were bleeding from sandburs. He let his eyes close, thinking to himself. I got away. At least if I die, I am a free cat.