Unease pricked at Benedict's fur. No voices were raised, no claws unsheathed, but still he felt anxiety twisting his innards. Rain was falling for the first time in weeks, but instead of coating the ground in a clean scent, it reared the stench of sweat and rancid meat. The tom shifted his paws and returned his gaze to their acknowledged leader, Trey, a slim she-cat with blue eyes and coarse gray fur a husky voice.
"We can't go on like this any longer." She addressed not only Benedict when she said this, but all the cats scattered around the alley. "We lack the strength. Is it your wish to continue living like rats - hiding in the shadows at every noise?" She gave them a sweeping look and they bowed their heads, both out of shame and remembrance of cats who had been taken by two-leg monsters or cat-catchers.
A hefty brown tom spoke in his gruff voice, "Like hell we do. I don't want to watch the clan I helped found shrink any longer. It's time to disband or do something impactful."
Trey resumed as though nothing had been said. "We're no different from strays or loners - unlawful, unprotected. I've been thinking of means to remedy this." She paused, and the brown tom took this as another opportunity to voice his thoughts.
"We could recruit more loners, make them our own." He looked around eagerly, but his suggestion was shirked by Trey as quickly as it he'd offered it up.
"That's one option, but a poor one. Loners are too often unloyal and undecided. They would view us as temporary protection - an illegitimate group - and be quick to desert us." No one objected, and for several moments, there was silence. "Though, in that same vein of thinking," She started, giving Benedict the distinct feeling that she was about to suggest something controversial. "kits are much more compliant."
"You mean we search out orphaned kits?" The brown tom asked, struggling to grasp what she meant. Trey's face remained impassive.
Flint, a strong-willed she-cat spoke up immediately. "You can't be suggesting we steal kits?" Trey didn't reply, but her eyes said the answer. Flint said, "I knew you were rash when I joined you, but surely this should be raising some objections, on moral grounds? To take a kit from its parent - that's lower than killing a clawless cat. We'd make more enemies than we'd gain allies."
Benedict's thoughts flitted to his niece - still a tiny kit. Taking her from her family was unthinkable, but he wasn't going to speak up just yet.
Trey shrugged, "Queens are vulnerable. Kits come in litters." She hopped down from the box she'd been sitting on, flicking water from her ear and passing Benedict with a subtle look of pleading. Benedict knew what she was asking of him. All she needed was one voice of support, and then the cats who were too sheepish to voice their views would step up to agree. She exited the alley.
Benedict hesitated, still in a fit of moral struggle, when Felix stood up, his gray eyes determined. "Trey doesn't want us to fail as a clan. You all see we're straggling. This could be our best option." As Benedict had predicted, other cats stood up to show their agreement. Benedict joined them. Flint and two others were the only ones left sitting, looking unsure and even shocked. Benedict was repulsed, but not surprised at how many cats had disregarded the morally right decision in light of other cats choosing the wrong. He was among them, sure, but it was still an unnerving thing to witness. He had to do it, though. Trey had been his friend since he was a kit; he couldn't abandon her now.