Post by Frost on Dec 11, 2010 18:47:00 GMT -5
Claw, with a quick slash of his forepaws, ripped a cut along side the poor she-cat. Angry, he turned to the crowd again. "This time, I want answers. And I want them of those puny clans. Understood?" The crowd bobbed their heads. "Next time, you will be dead." He said to the she-cat, who was cowering. Then, with his tail up, he stalked into the large cardboard box that was his den. Inside was a pile of thread-bare Twoleg clothing, which was his nest. Then there was a box, which was propped open, and that was filled daily with dead rats for a snack. The dead rat, today, was covered in Twoleg lettuce. Annoyed, he sweeped them aside and curled up on the clothing, thinking.