The black cat with a white right paw, named tiny by his owners, has just run away from home, in fear that he would be thrown into the river. Now as he passes through the hole in the wooden fence that separated his home from the outside world. He had been out once before, out into the forest where he got a taste of being a forest cat. Now on the brink of the border of trees he remembers the way his mother described the woods and the cats inside it's a dark shadowy, dangerous place, and the wild forest cats who live there are quick and ferocious, those savages are a scourge on the mark of all good cats! He looked back towards the two leg nests; there were no other cats to be seen, if he left for the forest now no one could tell his mother where he went. As he started to walk towards the forest he hesitated, would heading into the forest be a good Idea, he knew nothing of hunting fighting, and now that he thought about it he didn't even know how to make a proper den, even though he told his family that he built one I crumbed quickly. If he went to the two leg place, he could at least have some knowledge of what he was doing. He looked to the forest then to the right, and then decided to go to the two leg place, hoping to live a long life.