Zig-zag laughed maniacally, his legs a blur beneath him and a large chunk of meat clamped in his jaws. He had stolen from the local mart again today, and the manager was chasing him again. It had become a daily event, Zig-zag stealing a large portion of meat, and the clerk on duty chasing him with whatever was handy. The manager had probably been waiting for him, (that accounted for the chainsaw), and it occurred to Zig-zag that it would have been smarter to not do the same thing every day at the same time. Oh well, he thought, shrugging mentally. The past is in the past, right? Or however that saying goes . . .

"Hi Mouse!" He shouted at an orange tabby as he raced by at top speed (Or as fast as he could go while carrying a hunk of meat half as big as himself).

"Hey Zig-zag. The clerk after you again?" Mouse asked him in a deep monotone voice as Zig-zag passed, looking like a brown-striped blur.

"Nope, the manager this time! With a chainsaw!" Zig-zag shouted. "I'm moving up in the world . . ." his voice got softer as he got lost in the crowd of people, and Mouse laughed softly. That Zig-zag . . .

Zig-zag darted down an alleyway, still carrying the meat (though it was starting to drag on the ground now). "Gotta hide, gotta hide . . ." he mumbled, looking around for somewhere to hide. He tried to hide in a different hiding place every day to wait till the clerk left, just to mix things up a bit. He didn't want his days to become monotonous . . .

Says the cat that steals from the same store at the same time everyday . . . he thought sarcastically. He spotted a large trashcan and quickly dragged the meat behind the bin, hiding in the shadows. He heard the unmistakable roar of a chainsaw fade into the distance, and sagged in relief. Laying down and putting his head on his paws, he allowed his senses a rest as he closed his eyes. Suddenly he heard the sound of footsteps on wet pavement, and he sprung to his feet, adrenalin rushing through his veins again. Before him stood the Manager.

He was portly and round, with bushy brown hair sticking up at all angles all over his head and a bright, my-eyes-are-burning-out-of-my-skull, neon yellow hawaiian-looking shirt with a small nametag that read Hi, My Name is: Mr. Canter! And Welcome To L-Mart!

"Hello Mr. Canter!" Zig-zag shouted up at the panting man, even though he knew the man couldn't understand him. "Now, I'll just be leaving . . ." he dashed between his legs, the meat clamped firmly between his jaws, but the manager bent down and scooped him up roughly (faster than Zig-zag would have thought possible, considering the man's size).

"Hey!" Zig-zag protested. "You have an unfair height advantage!"

"Now, give me that meat!" Mr. Canter said, grabbing the meat with his fat fingers and tugging. But Zig-zag wasn't friends with a wolf and a fox for nothing. Over the past year, he had come to acquire some of the same savage possessive instinct that all wild animals had over their food. He made a throaty growl deep in his throat, and a wild untamed look came into his eyes as the man tugged harder.

"Let. Go. Of. My. Meat!" Zig-zag growled, sounding very much like a wolf with rabies and punctuating each word with a heavy tug. The man was so startled; he dropped both the meat and the cat on the wet cement, giving Zig-zag time to grab the meat and dash off. He had already turned the block and disappeared before the manager even realized he was gone.

"Hey, Gracie, you home? Moonlock? Chubacca?" Zig-zag called out. He had dragged the meat down towards a large wooded area, which was where Zig-zag and his friends had made a new den. Moonlock, a large gray she-wolf with silky fur and yellow feral eyes, had insisted on calling it a 'den', instead of a 'house' like Gracie had wanted, or a 'cave' like Chubacca had wanted. Zig-zag didn't really care what it was called, as long as it was livable.

Chubacca had been raised in the wild, but shot with a gun as a young fox and brought to the local zoo. Because of lack of space, they had put him in with an injured she-wolf, (that was Moony) and then they had been released together. Zig-zag had met Moony and Chubacca while traveling through a thick wooded area many miles from here, and at first they had tried to kill each other. But, when faced with a common enemy, (a very large grizzly bear, it was actually a very funny story), they had united and defeated their foe and had been traveling together ever since.

Moonlock, (her real name was Moon Hemlock, but Zig-zag liked to call her Moonlock, much to her annoyance) had been born and raised in the Hemlock tribe in northern Alaska. She had been caught in a bear trap and shipped down to Washington where they had a better hospital. There she had met Chubacca, and they had been released together and had started traveling south, south-east. A couple miles into it, they had met Gracie, a boxer stray that had been left behind when her owners had to move. A month or two later, Zigzag had come into the picture. He was an alley cat looking for adventure, so they (after saving his life) had let him come along. Usually they would stay in a town for a couple weeks, then move on.

"Hey, Moonlock, I think it's time to move on." Zigzag called.

"What did you do this time?" Moonlock asked, poking her head out from around the corner. "And don't call me Moonlock!"

"What? You really think I did something? How could you? I thought you were my friend!" Zigzag cried in mock shock. " Fine, I did do something. The manager was chasing me with a chainsaw."

"A chainsaw?! Are you hurt?" Moonlock asked worriedly, her slight accent creeping into her voice.

"No, I died." Zigzag said flatly. "Of course I'm okay! If I wasn't I wouldn't be walking around."

"Okay,okay, don't freak out." Moonlock sighed and turned the corner again. She came back a moment later with a fairly large rabbit. "I caught this a few minutes before you arrived."

Suddenly Chubacca arrived, his long rough red fur glinting in the sunlight.

"Anything?" Zigzag asked hopefully.

Chubacca shook his head. "Nothing."

Zigzag sighed and suddenly everyone could see how painfully thin he was. They were all painfully thin, but Zigzag especially. He always gave up his own share of the meat, with the excuse, "I'll catch a mouse later. You guys are used to eating stag and deer, you need more meat than I do."

No-one knew why he hadn't been eating, but Moonlock had a sneaking suspicion. Wolves, dogs, foxes, they were all part of the Canidae family, but Zigzag was part of a completely different group, the Felidae, or cat family. Felidae were much more picky about what they ate, usually only eating small rodents. Zigzag had been so busy stealing meat from L-Mart and making sure everybody else was well-fed, he hadn't been able to make sure he was well fed. In the end, though, he always found something to eat.

They would all have to move soon, or Zigzag would get fatally ill. While the other's ate, Moonlock contemplated Zigzag. He was small and thin, with his brown striped fur clinging tight to his rubs. Moonlock knew of a pack of cats that lived near here, she had smelled their borders while hunting rabbits. Maybe, if she took him there, they would be able to heal him, and he would be able to socialize with other cats. Moonlock knew he had made a few friends in town, but he had been with Moony, Chubacca, and Gracie almost since kittenhood and had been starting to act, well, doggish. Growling instead of hissing, tugging and pulling instead of giving short sharp bites, like a real cat should. He even kept his claws out most of the time.

Whatever Moonlock decided to do, she had better do it quick, before it was too late.