Smudge's Perspective:

I'd known Rusty – sorry, I guess he's called Firestar now, but I'm gonna call him Rusty – since we was just kittens in the nest. Well, practically. I know my mother was Rusty's mother's friend, and I lived just two nests down from Rusty when we was taken from our mothers to live with Twolegs. And then he went to the forest and I ain't never seen him since, except once.

I remember when he first went outside the fence, got a taste of the forest, pretty clear. We was living two nests apart – sorry, I said that already. Anyway. I remember I was going out to make dirt, 'cause I hate them litterboxes, and I heard his bell. Real distinctive, different from other cats' bells. I hopped up on my fence and I saw Rusty down there, outside the fence. Ain't nobody ever does that! We all know it ain't safe. Rusty either knew and was being stupid, or he didn't know, but I think he knew; Rusty always was a bright one.

Anyway, there he was outside the fence, and I called out to him, a bit nervously, 'cause the forest outside the fence was kinda scary. "Where are you off to, Rusty?"

And he turned and looked at me. I remember his piercing green eyes, and his orange fur that was bright even in the shadow. He looked up at me from the ground and just said, "Hello, Smudge." I mean, what kinda answer is that?

He was obviously going into the woods, but I still asked, "You're not going to go into the woods, are you?"

"Just for a look," Rusty said. I got a little scared as reality set in. Rusty was gonna get killed in there, but I knew there ain't no stopping him. At our age, young toms is just about the stubbornest things ever.

"You wouldn't get me in there," I exclaimed. "It's dangerous!" I thought about the housecat who lived several Thunderpaths away, called Henry. Henry was an old tabby cat, with a thousand million stories to tell, and I liked to go there in the good old days to hear his tales. Rusty would come too, sometimes, and Henry would regale us with loads of adventure and mystery. Henry claimed that he'd been in the forest before, and I was pretty sure that he wasn't lying, but Rusty always was skeptical.

And apparently, he still was.

"Henry said he went into the woods once," I said. I knew that he had heard that story before. We was both there when Henry told that one. I lifted my head to look across rows of gardens and fences in the direction of Henry's nest.

Rusty rolled his eyes. "That fat old tabby never went into the woods. He's hardly been beyond his own garden since his trip to the vet. All he wants to do is eat and sleep!" I flinched at Rusty's harsh words. I liked Henry! He didn't have to be that mean. Henry was pretty lazy back then, though. I stood up for him anyway.

"No, really. He caught a robin there," I claimed. It was true. I saw him coming back over the fence from the woods and he had a bird in his mouth, that robin. He told me he caught it there, in the forest. Of course I believed him; why else would he be on the other side of the fence? Also, I'll admit I was a little bit in awe of Henry at the time. He was kinda my idol. Rusty weren't so sure about him, but we was both going to his nest to hear a tale now and again.

Rusty continued. "Well, if he did, then it was before the vet." True. "Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing." Also true, but Henry used to be as fun and energetic as Rusty was. But recently, Rusty had been obsessed with the forest, staring somewhat longingly into its dark depths. I ain't never understood what he saw in it.

"Well, anyway, Henry told me there are all sorts of dangerous animals out there. Huge wildcats who eat live rabbits for breakfast and sharpen their claws on old bones!" That was exaggerating a little bit. Well, really, a lot a bit. Henry told me that there are cats living in the woods, hunting mice for food, but then he got quiet and kind of sad and said no more about it. Rusty wasn't there for that story.

I'm gonna go ahead and say sorry for talking so much about Henry. Henry said this, Henry said that – I know, I know. But it's true, he did say all this stuff!

Rusty looked uncomfortable, but then he ruffled his fur and scoffed. "I'm only going for a look around. I won't stay long." Rusty looked exasperated at my worrying. I'll admit, I had been a bit of a worrywart in my younger days. I knew that Rusty could take care of himself, though, so I let it go.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you!" I purred. Rusty was a good friend, but always curious about something. Oh well. Toms will be toms.

I jumped down off the fence and hurried through my garden to my nest. The little swinging flap smacked my tail as I jumped right through, darn thing! Hated that bird-brained flap. I crouched by my food bowl full of pellets and closed my eyes. I ain't the fittest cat ever, mind you, and lots of movement tuckered me out, so I stumbled over to my bed and took a long nap.

Don't remember much after that. I woke up and it was getting dark, and I ain't one who likes to go out after night falls, so I ate a snack and went back to sleep.

I got up nice and early the next morning and stretched out in my bed, before heading to my refilled food dish. I was kinda reluctant to get up, but I wanted to check on them sparrows in my garden. There was little baby ones, just hatched a few days ago! Sorry. I miss them sparrows. I don't live in my old nest with my old housefolk anymore.

Anyway. I trotted out through that infernal swinging flap and out into my garden. The dew-coated grass was cool on my paws and I sat down under some sweet-smelling flowers to give my black and white fur a good grooming. The sparrows weren't out yet; I'd have some time to spend waiting.

I must have dozed off, because when I woke up them sparrows was hopping around. I spotted a little baby one that had strayed off from its mother, and thought better of getting closer. Cats and birds, well, they ain't a good mix unless you're hungry. And I had a sizable breakfast, so I didn't want no bird. I didn't like the icky taste of the meat. I still don't today.

My ears pricked up when I heard that jingling collar bell of Rusty's. At last! I hopped up onto the fence and padded along it to his garden. "Hello, Rusty!" I called as I perched ungracefully on the narrow fence. I ain't the smallest cat in the world, mind you. Anyway.

I continued. "You should have been awake an hour ago. The baby sparrows were out stretching their wings." Even though I wasn't up that early, Rusty was an early riser, and I was pretty surprised that he weren't up before me.

Rusty looked up at me. "Did you catch any?" he asked, his tail twitching. I yawned in reply. Just getting up on the fence this morning was exhausting. I probably wouldn't take the trek to Henry's nest today.

"Couldn't be bothered," I mumbled sleepily. "I'd already eaten enough at home. Anyway, why weren't you out earlier? Yesterday you were complaining about Henry sleeping his time away, and today you're not much better yourself."

Rusty sat down to get more comfortable. "I was in the woods last night."

Oh! That sure explained a lot. I forgot about that; no wonder he was so tired. "Oh, yes, I forgot! How was it? Did you catch anything? Or did anything catch you?" Surely nothing of importance had happened. Rusty ain't too much of threat to any cat, aside from his energetic craziness that disturbed certain cats from their naps. But Rusty shifted in his spot.

"I met some wild cats."

"What?" I gaped at him. I mean, what were the odds? I thought them wild cats were way out in the forest. That's what Henry said! Did they hurt him? "Did you get into a fight?"

"Sort of." Sort of? What kinda answer was that?

"Were you hurt? What happened?" I was eager to know what went down. I ain't one to not be curious. Gotta be in the know, right?

"There were three of them. Bigger and stronger than any of us!" he exclaimed, now excited.

Three? Wow! Rusty must have fought them off to get away! "And you fought all three of them!" I was just as excited as Rusty now. But he shook his head hastily.

"No! Just the youngest one. The other two came later." I'll admit, I was plenty disappointed. But he had still fought a wild cat and won!

"How come they didn't shred you to pieces?"

"They just warned me to leave their territory. But then . . ." I was so excited! This was like one of Henry's tall tales, but real! I ain't gonna pass this chance up to hear about Rusty's adventure!

"What!" I demanded. "What!?"

"They asked me to join their Clan." Unreal. I stared at him. "They did!" he insisted.

That was the beginning. The beginning of the end. Rusty sure did what he said he might do; he left and he didn't never come back from the forest. But that wasn't the very end. I saw Rusty a few more times over the months; in the forest, once, and when I got some weird dreams a bit later on I saw him again. But then he up and left with that Clan of his, and I never saw him no more. I heard from Princess that that he had left to find a new home or something. I ain't gonna dwell on that, because I miss Rusty. I don't know where he is, or what's happened to him, but I miss him. I'm an older cat know, wiser than I used to be. My memory ain't too good nowadays, mind you. But I'll always remember Rusty.

I prefer telling tales in the sunshine to catching mice, because I ain't getting around much anymore. I still wonder how Rusty's doing, though. Princess and Henry are long gone, and even Hattie is too, that nice little tabby who moved into Rusty's old nest. But I'm here. Not in the same nest, not even in the same Twolegplace, but here. In this Twolegplace close to the sea, I'm happy. I wonder if Rusty is happy, wherever he is. He left his home for what would make him feel complete, going to them woods, so I hope it did.

I miss that wild cat. I really do.

. . . . .

Sorry about the long chapter! Any ideas for other Tales?