Stars poured out onto the blank dark canves. The ferns blew silently. Cold breezes ruffled the cats fur as he padded towards the smell of blood.

A cat in pain sounded from afar. The cat padded out of the ferns and saw a overhang thickly covered with brambles. If the cat didn't smell blood or hear the screeches, the stranger would never have noticed the overhang was a den.

The cat paused and licked his moltted paw. A peice of moss clung in his claws. He fought it of and padded over to the overhang. A hole at the top made the inside clear as glass. The cat poked his eyes silently into the hole and watched.

Cats crowded around one she-cat. She was beautiful. A cat in the distant was nursing three small kits. The ten toms around the she-cat was torturing, killing her soul.

With a surprising descovery, the moltted cat recognized the toms.

The gingers were Fire, Scatter, Bloodfang and Scar.

The two black toms were Darkness and Breezepelt. Breezepelt was the oldest cat there, gray furs pounded his pelt.

The gray cat was Fallowtail. The white was Fangs. The Terrortime was a big silver tom with brown patches.

The molted tom watched the bunch. The beautiful she-cat was the main meal. She was being tortured and she was producing the screeching.

The strange cat had had enough. He leapt down the hole just as Scar left the she-cat.

The cats jumped in surprise. The stranger sat on his hunches and licked his paw. He drew it over his right ear, his brown eyes closed. When he opened them, all cats teeth were bared.

"Rusted!" The cats he knew by name hissed.

Rusted nodded,"You look- well sons." He pointed to Scatter, Scar, Fangs, Fire and Darkness. They hissed in return.

The black she-cat nursing the kits growled at Rusted.

"Hello Midnight." Rusted nodded to Darknesses mate. She huddled the kits closer to her.

Rusted stared at his sons. They looked guilty.

"Well?"