The morning was beautiful; sun shining, wind crisp and white fluffy clouds peppered a clear blue sky. It was a perfect day for a hunt. He had seen the prey earlier and knew where it liked to hide, knew where its hole was and on that day, yes, that day, would be the day of its demise. Crookshanks' tail flicked with anticipation.

He rounded the front doors and made a lazy leap over the steps to land gracefully on the path. With a curious glance at the humans within the castle, he dismissed them with a sniff and he was off.

Pausing a time or two to sniff the air, he noted the change. There was another hunter on the grounds. Crookshanks tilted his head curiously and his steps quickened. Racing across the walks and gardens his pace didn't slow until he came to the glass buildings with the dangerous plants living within.

The breeze kicked up and he sat, his tail curling around his body. Crookshanks always enjoyed a good caress by the wind, not to mention the wondrous smells it brought along to tantalize or inform him. His prey was near.

So was the other hunter.

Crookshanks' ears dropped back. The rat was his prey. He had been toying with it for weeks. He would not lose this fun to another hunter. He shot off like a bullet towards the moving tree, the favored area of the prey. He stopped as he entered the tall grass and sniffed the air. Ears low to his head, tail down, Crookshanks was alert and ready.

He made his way slowly at first, but Crookshanks stilled when he saw it. Prey tend to be skittish once they realize their role in the game. Staying up wind was crucial. His body was low to the ground, still as a statue, even his breathing was slowed as to not unnecessarily stir the blades of grass around him.

His prey paused in its feast. Its pink whiskered nose twitched once, twice and up came its head with ears perked straining to hear what caused him unease. The rat's ears moved cautiously, straining for a sign. Its whiskers twitched once more before the chase began.

The only signs that his prey gave before flight was the squeak of fear, the stench of its voided bladder and the scrambling sound of clawed paws scratching desperately at the hard ground. Crookshanks leapt through air above the grass.

With sharp eyes, Crookshanks saw the rat veer left and dashed after it. They both knew the rat's hole was to the right but the rat was determined to keep the half-cat, half-kneazle off his game. This was their first meeting, it could be their last.

Crookshanks was a large, fluffy ball of orange, but it was misleading. His body was muscular, strong and lean to allow him great mobility and excellent control over his motions.

The rat veered right. Claws extended quickly as Crookshanks pushed off and changed directions instantly. There was a swipe of a paw, a squeak, a hiss and the chase ended sooner than anticipated.

Staring at the rat, Crookshanks felt a bit disappointed. He had hoped for a bit of fun. The other hunter approached. Crookshanks snatched his prize in jaws and rounded on the stranger.

Crookshanks tilted his head and sat down, tail curling around him with the end flicking showing his curiosity. He was aware of the other hunter and was pleased when there was no interruption until the chase ended. Now that he was done, he had expected the bystander to leave, but, to his surprise, the outsider came closer.

The large black dog didn't growl, didn't bare its teeth, only sat and watched. The huge paws stilled on the hard ground, no claws shown. Curious. Crookshanks stood and approached cautiously. His whole body was tense and ready to fight if necessary.

The dog's ears twitched, Crookshanks stopped warily. The dog lowered its body in a subservient form to show it wasn't a threat. Crookshanks' nose twitched. Such an odd thing to see between a cat and dog. The dog was no threat.

Crookshanks tried to smell the air but it was difficult with the stench of the rat filling his senses. He thought about dropping the rat, but it was what brought the two hunters together.

Against his better judgement, Crookshanks went closer to the dog. The rat still in his jaws, Crookshanks sat again, tail curling automatically with the end twitching and flicking nervously.

Slowly the dog moved. Crookshanks remained still. The dog must have taken this as a good sign for it sat up then and sniffed at the rat. If a cat could laugh, Crookshanks would have. The huff and snort from the dog was quite amusing. The big head of the dog shook as if it could wrench the smell of the rat from its nostrils.

The sight was most amusing to Crookshanks. This was not the prey the dog had hoped it would be? Crookshanks wasn't sure, but it appeared as if the dog lost interest.

Crookshanks dropped the rat, his delicate nose was tired of the stench that threatened to overwhelm him. He let out a tiny sneeze that shook his whiskers, causing stars to form before his eyes. He shook his head once to clear his vision.

That was the opportunity the rat had been waiting for. With a scratching of claws, the prey took its chance and scampered towards its hole.

The dog let out a wuff and hopped to the left. The rat squealed and turned only to be pounced again, but this time by Crookshanks creating a new game for the prey and hunters.

The rat would scamper one direction only to be blocked by the dog or the cat. Crookshanks enjoyed the pouncing game. The dog did as well if the wagging tail was any indication. The rat squeaked in what Crookshanks could only imagine was frustration and fright. He couldn't imagine the rat enjoyed the two toying with its very life.

The dog barked and wuffed because those canines were a noisy lot, so unrefined in comparison to its feline counterparts. It wasn't until the rat dared to swipe at Crookshanks that the half kneazle made a sound.

Fun and games were over now that the rat tried to fight back. An angry Crookshanks is not to be trifled with and he swiped sharp claws at the rat as he hissed angrily at their prey.

Huffing, the dog sat beside Crookshanks, tongue hanging out of its open maw as it breathed heavily with rank breath of its own. Crookshanks' pink nose twitched, relieved to be much shorter than the large black dog. The two stared at the dead rat as blood spilled quickly into the thirsty ground.

Crookshanks' attention was drawn to the skies as a blue bird flew past, gracefully twittering and dancing along, but it made its own mistake. The bird flew too close to the moving tree. The tree had its own prey and flicked a branch with precision. With a sharp tweet and a flurry of blue feathers, the bird dropped dead to the ground.

The pair snorted. It was a good day for hunting.