~Chapter Two~

A cool, misty night breeze washed gently over Cornwhisker's pelt. The black tom shivered slightly, and curled up tighter in his nest. On all sides of him, cats slept. Their flanks rising and falling in gentle rhythm. He shivered again as a sharp wind plummeted through the roof and onto the black warrior I'll have to get one of the apprentices to fix that hole in the roof. He thought irritably. It's keeping me awake! Cornwhisker shifted his position once again, then hissed under his breath. Since I can't sleep, I might as well get up.

Cornwhisker slowly rose to his paws, careful not to disturb the other warriors who were asleep around him. He wove through the throng of sleeping cats, then leaped lightly over Splashwhisker and Foreststripe, and into the night.

The black tom shook his pelt and glanced around the clearing. He could barely make out the shadowy form of Icewillow sitting night watch at the top of the cliff path. The tabby she-cat's pelt glowed silvery in the light of the quarter moon. Once again, as Cornwhisker stood alone in the moonlit camp, he wondered whether all this was really worth it. It would be so much easier to live as a kittypet. Why are Sagefeather, Flintpool, Owlflight, and Raindapple so against it? I'm going to find out what it's like to live like a kittypet. Cornwhisker thought, determination surging through him.

Cornwhisker turned and trotted silently across camp and slipped through the dirtplace tunnel. He skirted dirtplace and headed toward the towering stone wall at the back of dirtplace. He scanned the stone for any way of climbing, then carefully placed his forepaws on a thin stone ledge. Little by little, Cornwhisker picked his way up the slope, hoping that Icewillow wouldn't see him. For once, Cornwhisker was thankful for his dark pelt that blended in so well with the night shadows. Finally, Cornwhisker leaped out of the pit and his paws pressed down on dew-soaked grass. Cornwhisker charged into the bushes, away from Icewillow and the MoonClan camp.

Peering out of the bushes, Cornwhisker spotted Icewillow still perched rigidly at the other edge of the MoonClan camp. Cornwhisker slunk quietly out of the bushes and slipped through the shadows, slowly making his way to the MoonClan border that bordered Twoleg-place. The black tom paused at the border to glance up at the moon. A thin silver claw hovered directly above him, bathing the earth in a gentle silver glow. Moonhigh already. Cornwhisker thought in frustration. I'll have to hurry.

He launched himself over the border, running swiftly through the tall grass. He winced at the blades that slapped against his face, stinging his nose and his eyes. Cornwhisker slowed as the stench of Twoleg-place grew stronger, choking him as he breathed. Sagefeather is right about the smell. He admitted in disgust. Cornwhisker padded forward, weaving through the thin blades of grass. The grass ended suddenly, and Cornwhisker found himself face-to-face with the towering outer border of Twoleg-place.

Cornwhisker tentatively placed a forepaw on the rough wood-like material. He dug his claws into the wall, and experimentally tested his weight on it. Satisfied, Cornwhisker launched himself at the fence, claws outstretched. He dug his claws deep into the flattened wood, and hauled himself to the top of the fence. Staggering in surprise at the thin width of the fence, Cornwhisker padded forward. The night was mostly silent, except for the distant bark of a dog. Cornwhisker felt himself bristle, but he did not pause as he traveled from fence to fence. How will I ever find Rhoda's den? He wondered nervously, picturing himself lost forever in Twoleg-place.

Cornwhisker forced himself to continue forward. The splintered wood jabbed uncomfortably into his paw pads, but he paid little mind. I must find Rhoda's den. He thought, forcing determination onto himself. The MoonClan warrior paused briefly, glancing warily around before leaping down into a dark alley. He padded silently forward, bristling at ever sound. In the half-light of the alley, Cornwhisker didn't even have the comfort of the moon shining on his pelt. If only I could find someone who would help me find Rhoda's den. But with all these yucky scents I can't even scent my own tail! Cornwhisker hissed in frustration. Finally, he took another tentative step forward. As he did so, something barreled into him.

The black tom yowled angrily as he looked up into the amber eyes of his attacker. The cat hissed, and prepared to rake her claws across Cornwhisker's face. Cornwhisker kicked his hind paws into her stomach to throw her off of him. She landed a mouse-length away, but immediately the she-cat jumped onto her paws. Hissing and spitting, the two cats threw themselves at one another. Cornwhisker clawed her flank, and the she-cat fastened her teeth into his shoulder.

"Stop!" A dark brown tom hurled himself between the fighting cats. He hauled the she-cat off of Cornwhisker, and the three cats stood silently in the alley, glaring at one another.

"Now that you're done attacking me," Cornwhisker growled. And all I was doing was minding my own business. Mostly. "May I ask you a question? I need help getting out of here."

"Why should we help you when you're trespassing in our alley?" The she-cat spat, her tail lashing. "He's one of those wild cats who thinks they own every place they set paw." Hostility flared in her eyes.

"I didn't know this was your alley!" Cornwhisker responded defensively, taking a step back. What is wrong with these cats? Why are they so hostile?

"Calm down, Stripe." The ragged tom meowed, settling onto a cracked crate. Turning to Cornwhisker, he asked, "What is it you were going to ask?"

Cornwhisker glanced up at where the moon should be. "I was wondering if you know where a kittypet named Rhoda lives."

"As a matter of fact, I do." The ragged tom replied. "I'll take you to her den." He turned and bolted down the alley.

Question Of The Day: Who is Poolpaw, Thunderpaw, And Beaverpaw's mother?