It was raining that night, animals were hiding in order to keep their pelt dry. All but one white cat. His name was Charles, and he was a curious cat.
He had ignored Queenie's protests about heading into the forest, cats never returned. Like Prince. But Charles wanted to see this forest, and figure out why cats never returned. His perfectly groomed pelt was beginning to dampen, the rain was heavy and it was hard to see. The kittypet was well aware there was no going back. The woods was too dense to find his way back, and he would lose his sense scent because of the heavy rainfall.
Once his paws began to throb he started searching for a dry place. There was no area in sight that could shelter him, maybe a mouse or a shrew but not a cat. Tree after tree, Charles wanted to fall over and sleep in the mud. But he couldn't. What if he never returned like Prince? He wanted to return. Or at least, live in this strange forest.
After maybe hours or searching, the tired tom soon found it. A tree with roots exposed, revealing a small hole. Charles with the rest of his strength rushed over, his pelt getting stuck on some of the roots. He grunted, and pushed himself in. The hole, to his surprise was quite large. The white cat could finally hear, smell and see properly again - speaking of all of that. He heard pawsteps, and shivered. A fox? Prince had spoken of foxes before he left. They sounded terrifying.
Although these pawsteps were light, and quick. Charles soon found himself surrounded by large, and scary cats.
"Who are you?!" Hissed the black she-cat, showing off her sharp fangs.
"I-I'm Charles." He responded, refusing to look away.
The three other cats laughed at his name, all but a gray she-cat who stared at him curiously. He shook his head and stared back at the black cat. Her white paw the only thing different from her pelt. "What do you want?!" She snarled, her fur ruffling.
"I only seek shelter," Charles meowed, flattening his ears in submission. "I've been traveling for days." He lied, carrying on with his story. "I've heard of this place... and wanted to see." In all honesty, Charles just wanted a place to rest. And if these cats kicked him out, he'd be sleeping in the dreaded rain tonight.
With a flick of her tail, the four cats relaxed and gave uneasy glances to the black cat. "Barking Wolf, fetch Leaping Frog." She spoke sternly, glancing at the cat with a missing ear. A most likely wound from battle, Charles glanced away uneasily at such a mark. Would that be him if he spent too long out here?
"Alright, Rushing Stream."
What were these strange names? They were long, and he was scared that this was some cult... would he be forced to join them? Well, as long as the food was alright.
"Charles." Suddenly a large tom appeared, with Barking Wolf. He dipped his head, they all did as his presence. "It's very rare for house cats to run into these woods..." He trailed off, the others still holding their submissive gaze. "Many don't live."
"But I have." He protested, puffing his sodden chest out. "So it seems," Leaping Frog mused and made his way past the crowd to stare down Charles, studying his pelt and eyes. "You're a promising cat, Charles." He came to a conclusion, turning around. "You may join us," Leaping Frog meowed before he left. Charles stared dumbfounded as the cats began to head deeper into the tunnels, all but the gray she-cat.
"Hello, I'm Blue Jay."