A/N: Major human elements. Actually, they're basically human all the way in this.

It was very dark and cloudy. I shouldn't have been walking that late at night. Especially not alone, especially not in that end of town. But something compelled me to. I just need to get away sometimes, you know? To think.

Being psychic,I know when something bad is about to happen. So it came as no surprise to me when, out of seemingly nowhere, a group of three large cats surrounded me. They were all wearing very dirty clothes, which looked like they hadn't been washed since who knows when. All of them were wearing red.

Once hey had me surrounded, the largest, who was unusually fat for a street cat, started the questioning. "Wha'ssa pretty lil' gal like yerself doin' out this late?"

"Well, I was just, ah, walking. I needed to think."

"Don'cha know these're bad parts ta be thinkin' all by yerself?" he said it like a question, but something about the way he said it told me that he didn't mean for me to answer. He had my back against a wall, and was close enough that I could smell his breath. It smelled like garbage. "And yer wearin' enemy colours too. You can get pretty badly hurt wearin' those colours round 'ere. Maybe you oughtta, you know, take that shirt off." the other two snickered, and one of them reached into his pocket.

Suddenly, right as I thought I was done for, a shot rang out, and I heard a familiar voice shout "Oi! Wot tha fock d'you rats thenk yer doin'?" It was Mungojerrie, with a pistol drawn.

"What the fuck's it to ya, Mungo?" said one of the skinnier cats. "We's jes' tryn'a get a piece o' tail!"

"That's me fockin' gullfrend, you piece of shit!"

At this, they stepped back. "Whoah, sorry bro, we din't mean nothin' by it, I swear!" said the larger cat.

"Yeh, loike bloody fockin'ell ya din't. Get tha fuck outta my soight, before I fuckin' paint the walls wit'cha!"

They must've believed him, because they scattered like rats.

I started cowering, but as he approached me, his tone softened. "I'ssokay, I won't hurt you." he sat down next to me, and pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket. He lit it, then pulled another out.

"Smoke?"

"No, thank you, I don't."

"Suit yerself." he said, putting it back, then lighting his own. "You arroight?"

"Yes, thank you, that was very...brave of you."

"Meh, oi was jes' doin' the roight thing."

"Is there any way I could thank you? I mean, other than..."

He chuckled a bit, then said "Naw, oi wouldn't ask ye t'do that. Oi moight be a bit rough, but oi know how to treat a lady. Not loike them scumbags." As he was speaking, raindrops started to fall on us. He looked up, and then back down at his cigarette, which was slowly dying of the rain.

"Well that seems like a bit of a waste." I said, trying to lighten things up.

"Well, as long as you're with me, oi'll be roight's rain." he said, chuckling at his own pun. "Hey, d'you need somebody ta walk yez back t'the yard?"

"Sure." I said, as he helped me up. Somehow, I felt like everything would be alright.

A/N: This is a scene from one of my upcoming stories, told from an alternate perspective. hope you enjoyed it.