That evening, Whiteclaw was beginning to regret taking Redmane's warning so lightly. The lean-to groaned under the weight of the wind, and a light rain was beginning to fall, quickly getting stronger. Already the storm had reached a frightening intensity, almost strong enough to take down their shelter.

But they were safe. Outside, he could hear the anxious shouts of the humans and see torchlights bobbing, briefly lighting up the corners of the enclosure and casting patterned shadows on the ground from the fence. Peering out into the downpour, which was beginning to lash at the tree in their cage with new ferocity, he caught a glimpse of a face looking back at him, the striped face of Treeclimber, the cat next door. He was an unusual cat, a tiger, with orange fur crisscrossed with stripes, so that it was sometimes hard to see him in the shadows of the fence and the undergrowth in his enclosure. His mate, Bluestripe, was also striped. Maybe they'd spent too long in the shadows, because there was so much undergrowth in their cage. That was why they had shadows in their fur.

Treeclimber's face was outlined in a small white mane; nothing compared to a lion's mane, but at least it made him easy to spot. The tiger caught Whiteclaw's gaze and nodded politely at him, but even the enormous striped cat looked unnerved by the ever-increasing gale.

Whiteclaw's ears twitched at the sound of the metal gate creaking open. One of the humans entered, yelling to the others. The shelter on wheels roared, and began to reverse into the gate.

They were going to get put in there! They were going to get taken away!

Whiteclaw spun round, heart leaping in his throat. "Redmane! Look!"

Redmane snarled, narrowing his eyes to peer through the downpour. The red lights at the rear of the moving shelter glowed softly, outlining every raindrop. "Just avoid them. If it comes down to it, we'll have to fight. They're not taking us." His voice was steady, a point of calm in the storm. But his eyes were wide, verging on panic.

Whiteclaw nodded, turned and nudged Sunray to her paws. She groaned, and Whiteclaw felt a stab of fear and guilt. His mate was on the verge of giving birth, and here he was dragging her out into a storm such as this. But, left alone, Sunray was an easy target for the humans.

The human in the cage paused. A flash of fear passed his gaze, before he pushed it aside and began to back up, reaching for the front of the moving shelter.

A glint through the rain. There was a silver sleep-stick in there. Whiteclaw had seen one of them used before, not too long ago, when they had shot Sunray with it and taken her out of the cage. She'd returned later, though, alive and well.

But this was large-scale. All the animals were being taken. Whatever happened tonight, they could not go with the humans.

Whiteclaw sprang forward. He felt sick, begging someone in his head to forgive him. Who he was begging, he didn't know.

The lion's heavy paw struck the human, knocking him away from the roaring shelter. He stood, barring the way, fangs glinting.

There was a yell from another human outside the enclosure. The moving shelter snarled; the red lights bobbed. Then the shelter on wheels moved forward, out of the cage.

Slowly, Whiteclaw stepped back, letting the human pass. They'd given up. With a snarl, he turned and pounded back to the shelter, soaked mane fur clinging to his body.

Redmane nodded gratefully to him, Sunray leaning on his shoulder. "Well done. Now that the humans are gone, we need to leave." He looked towards the gap in the fence.

Whiteclaw looked up. And gasped. His muzzle wrinkled in a sudden snarl of what he hoped was defiance, but sounded of pure terror.

Redmane swung his head round. Behind them, thick clouds rolled down the mountain that supported the sky behind the zoo. And, next to the mountain, the clouds were being dragged, whipped around into a shape that reached up to the sky and ripped grass from the roots, picking up branches and boulders, tossing them aside like prey.

"Outside! Now!" Redmane roared, a voice that gave no option to argue. Certain that Sunray would be safe with Redmane, Whiteclaw bolted for the fence.

Never had he ran so fast. Whiteclaw's paws skimmed the grass, his head low, the rain whipping strands of mane into his face, painful as thorn tendrils. He dived beneath the bush, wriggling, twisting free of the branches. The fence's jagged edges scraped his back, combed through his fur, almost sharp enough to break his skin. But then he was through, bursting into freedom with a roar that was almost drowned out completely by the wind's force, silencing him.

Panting, resisting the urge to flee, he turned. Redmane was haring towards him. Alone.

Fresh panic slammed into Whiteclaw's chest, and he gasped like the breath had been knocked out of him. It felt like being winded. Fears for himself forgotten, he charged towards the fence. "Redmane!" he screamed. The wind caught his voice, twisting it around his head so that the word rang in his ears, taunting him. No one else could hear him. "Redmane! Where's Sunray?"

Redmane pelted through the fence gap, Lostmane catching up and ducking through behind him. But Sunray was not alongside their leader.

Barging roughly past, Whiteclaw leapt for the fence. Taking in what was happening, Redmane spun round on one hind paw, claws desperately snagging Whiteclaw's fur, trying to stop him. He heard a shout of his name, just reaching his ears before the wind snatched it away. But the shout didn't register.

A rumble shook Whiteclaw's heart, louder even than the shelter on wheels, deafening, like a snarl of thunder, but much closer. Glancing up momentarily in his struggle through the bramble bush, Whiteclaw could have sworn the mountain was trembling.

That thought, that moment, froze in his mind. The split second before the mountain gave way.

All of a sudden, the rocks halfway up the mountain seemed to split. The mountainside appeared to explode, rocks suddenly tumbling, churned up by the wind. Like releasing a river, the mountainside began to fall, rocks tumbling towards the animal cages, churning, destroying. The rock fall loomed over the lion's cage, over Sunray. Whiteclaw could see her now, crouched in terror, her jaws open in a wail that was silenced by the wind.

Whiteclaw wriggled free of the last tendrils a moment before the heavy rock struck, slamming into the side of his head, knocking him away from his mate. He heard a cry of horror, a yell from behind him, and then silence.