Twoleg territory; early morning.
Watching the Sun appear over the odd twoleg nests; doing little to warm Cloudpaw even with his thick pelt. Cold kissed his pink nose and raked his back and shoulders.
Dense clouds moved into position; jostling to block out the blue sky.
Leaves blew past his paws. They caught the wind and reached for the sky, only to fall into piles on the ground. Along with them was twoleg rubbish; shreds of paper that came from huge blue boxes placed on the edge of the thunderpath.
Had Cloudpaw been any younger, he would have batted at them. Had he been a kittypet, he wouldn't have given them a second glance.
He was neither of those. He was a Clan cat. And yet... watching the twoleg litter brought on odd feelings.
Cloudpaw was drawn to twoleg place for numerous reasons; reasons he preferred not to think about. But how to ignore the twoleg rubbish?
It belonged with the twolegs, as did Cloudpaw. It mingled with the wind; free, like Cloudpaw. Like shredded paper, Cloudpaw was torn.
But the rubbish never strayed outside the wind's currents. It had a course; it had a route. Cloudpaw was caught in the middle; not a Clan cat, not a kittypet.
He envied the paper scraps. They fell like paper dreams.