The Junkyard at night wasn't the safest place to prowl alone, especially when you are not quite yet of-age and kinda short.
Alecto sighed, then shivered; nights alone were cold. 'alone' being the operative word. she thought, No mate, no sweethearts, no anything. Alecto snorted bitterly, as she thought of Munkustrap and all the other toms. She didn't value her chances with any of them.
Macavity stood, fur rippled oddly be the snowy breeze. Not long. Only a matter of weeks, provided his target made their moves. That depended on their courage... but he was sure that they had plenty to spare for a small mating-dance.
Alecto frowned. It wasn't exactly prudent to request a mating-dance off an already mated , and as far as I see, happy, tom. Which one, she wasn't sure, but she had an odd foreboding about one of them, and that was the one she felt most attracted to. Damn.
Munkustrap was watching his mate, Demeter, sleeping, with an odd feeling in his stomach. It wasn't love, hate or too much eight day-old fish. he had tested these emotions with, eyeing up other Queens (no change, but slight guilt), staying with Demeter all day (no change, but the need to pull his head-fur out), and eating less old fish. No change. What's wrong with me?
Alecto paused and glanced around, sensing the presence of another.
Macavity paused and glanced around, sensing the presence of another.
Munkustrap paused and glanced around, sensing the presence of another.
They all moved at once in a grim unison, pelting off in three directions, same speed, same foot, same reason. They had sensed each other.
Munkustrap pounded for the centre of the junkyard, smelling Macavity's lingering odour of darkness. "ALONZO!!!" he yelled, panicked, "QUAXO!!!" he had also caught a faint trace of roses. Alecto.
"Bloody hell." Alecto was running full pelt toward the centre of the junkyard, smelling faintly rubber. that's his fault for sleeping in a tyre! She thought, as she halted rapidly at the unmistakeable stench of singed material, fire. Macavity.
Macavity grinded his teeth angrily. He was running swiftly away from the centre of the junkyard, noticing the sweet aroma of summer flowers. Alecto. And the definite tang of his dirtied brother. Munkustrap.