Pouncival had been busy chasing Plato's tail when Munkustrap and the rest of the Jellicle Toms appeared in the Junkyard. A strange, tangy scent hit the young cat's nose. Behind the silver-and-white cat, and flanked by Mr. Mistofelees, was an adolescent Pouncival didn't recognize. "Who is that?" he asked Plato curiously.

Plato's ears twitched as he turned his head. "I'm not sure, Pounci." As soon as the younger cat started to pad towards the group, Plato held him back. "Stay here, listen, and I'm sure Munkustrap will tell the whole Junkyard what's going on."

Someone shuffled behind him. The white tabby kitten turned to find his mother storming forward, her voice as angry as he'd ever heard it.

"Great Heavyside, what is that stench-" her voice broke off as she watched the cats bring Sheni closer to the middle of the Junkyard. Her forest-green eyes narrowed at Munkustrap. "Who's the visitor?"

Munkustrap gave Jenny a curt smile. "He's our prisoner. He's going to be staying with us so we can ensure that he keeps out of trouble."

The older ginger Queen glared at the young, flame-pelted Tom. "Surely he's not who I suspect?"

"His name is Sheni. He's Macavity's son," Mr. Mistofelees explained carefully.

Her pointed gaze returned to Munkustrap, "And how exactly to you expect us to keep the kittens safe with him around, hm?"

"Don't worry, Jenny. He can't hurt us, at least, not while I'm around. He's bound by a little spell of mine. Keeps him from hurting anyone."

"And besides, he's barely an adult himself. Otherwise, I intend to have him well guarded at all times."

Only moments later, cats began to crowd the scene, and little Pouncival could hardly see the strange cat anymore. Regardless, the youngster, like most Jellicles, had acute hearing and could still catch every word.

Demeter skittered past him, mumbling something that Pouncival couldn't understand. He'd always thought she was so weird. Kind, but a little- odd. Then, the prettiest of all the Queens (at least, in Pouncival's eyes) waltzed up to the other cats. The red Queen was fuming from both ears, her brown eyes full of fury. "I respect you, Munk, but I really don't like this. Did you see Demeter's reaction? She won't be able to stay here, not with him here. And Jenny's right...he shouldn't be anywhere near our kittens. He'll find every nook and cranny, know every inch of the Junkyard-"

A chorus of meows and yowls rose from the growing crowd. In front of him, Exotica and Cassandra were whispering in each other's ears, their eyes wide with worry.

The cacophony was interrupted by a pained yowl. Pouncival couldn't see them all all now, so he wasn't quite sure, but was that-

The young kitten crawled up a nearby pile of rubble. He could see them clearer now, despite the darkness that had fallen on the Junkyard. It was as he suspected. The Rum Tum Tugger was badly wounded. Upon reaching this realization, Bomba's eyes widened and she swerved between the other Toms to reach the golden cat. He fell between her and Misto, his chest heaving with deep, labored breaths.

"Misto, you have to help him!" Bomba cried out, her voice thinning. All around them, the other cats looked on as the spotted Queen and the young tuxedo cat practically dragged the Tugger away from the crowd. Pouncival noted the concerned whispers and prayers that were quickly sent up to the Heavyside.

Sheni looked smug, as if he had been the cause of pain, but he said nothing. Soon after, Jennyanydots disappeared to the Nursery to warn Jellylorum of bringing the kittens out to play.

"Alonzo! Coricopat! Plato!"

At the call, Pouncival watched with envy as the Toms sprang into action. Alonzo was handsome. Coricopat served quite the advantage to the Jellicles- he could see mistakes before they were made, and he often helped the other cats in avoiding them. Plato, his older brother, was already highly regarded by the elders as a strong, protective, and yet friendly cat.

Pouncival's paws prickled as he glanced down at his own plain, brown-and-white fur. He might have been considered "cute" by most of the Queens, but he was no Alonzo. The young cat lifted his paws, noting the small pawprints he had left behind in a pile of dirt. He didn't have helpful visions. He puffed up his chest, trying to make himself feel more like the other Toms, but the fluff of his own fur only reminded him how soft and downy he still was.

"Pouncival, you can join the other Toms, but by the Heavyside, don't get into any trouble."

His ears pricked. Was Munkustrap really talking to him?

Plato's brow furrowed with concern. "Pouncival, are you alright?"

He grinned. "I'm fine," He glanced towards Munkustrap. He'd been so caught up in his own self-pity and subsequent excitement that he hadn't heard what job the Second-In-Command gave them. His gaze drifted back to Plato, "what are we doing?"

Plato rolled his eyes. "We're supposed to be keeping watch on Macavity's son."

Pouncival's muddy eyes gleamed with wonder. "Woah..."

Plato's whiskers twitched. "It's a very serious task, Pouncival. That's why I need you to listen well, just like you've done in the past. I don't want you to get into any mischief now, when the lives of our friends could be at stake. Do you understand?"

The older Tom always took his responsibilities so seriously, Pouncival thought to himself. Still, he vowed that he wouldn't get into trouble with such a dangerous, important job. "I promise to listen to you, and not to get into any mischief."

His brother looked relieved. "Alright. You and I have the second watch, after Al and Cori. You think you can handle staying up late tonight?"

"Don't worry about me, big brother. I can handle anything."

Something was poking Pouncival's belly while he slept.

"Pounci. Pounci, wake up."

He blinked blearily. "Hm?"

"It's our turn to watch Sheni."

The adolescent forced himself up, rocking as he did so. His fur stood on end, and his eyes were wide and alert. "I'm ready."

"Come on."

Pouncival led him to a large tunnel that was surrounded so high with junk that there would be no easy escape, save for the path they had taken. He understood that this must've been to keep Sheni in, as well as to keep the other cats out.

Pouncival's chest fur fluffed. He licked it proudly. Now, he was going to get the chance to show the Tribe that he could help out, even if he was still a kitten.

They arrived quickly, finding Mr. Mistofelees standing in front of the tunnel's entrance. "Greetings, Misto," Plato nodded respectfully.

Pouncival noticed that Mistofelees appeared suddenly uncomfortable by his brother's presence, but Plato didn't seem to sense it. The patched kitten wondered on this for a moment before pushing it to the back of his mind. It didn't really matter, did it? He followed the tip of his brother's taupe tail to the other end of the tunnel. His head swiveled behind him, giving him an owlish expression as he watched the prisoner closely.

He looked very much like Macavity, but smaller. His ears were tiny, his whiskers ragged, and his fiery tabby fur was clinging to skin and bones. Pouncival thought he'd be able to count all his ribs, if he could count that high. The awkward Macavity clone was curled into a ball, snoring as he slept.

Pouncival wished he could sleep, but then, he had an important job to do. He stood calmly at the tunnel's end, his ears alert to every whisper of the night. Paper fluttered in the breeze across from him, and he watched it, fighting the urge to give chase.

His head felt heavy.

Though he was listening to the wind and watching junk blow by, eventually his head started to droop and his eyelids closed. He gave way to the warmth of darkness, tucking his paws beneath him as he prepared for a long night.

A paw prodded him awake. At first he thought it was Plato, and he startled awake, dread creeping under his skin. He had failed at his mission, he wasn't supposed to fall asleep! He jerked away, his expression apologetic. Except, it wasn't his brother at all.

Plato was still beside him, but he too had fallen into a slumber. It wasn't Mistofelees, either. Instead, it was probably the cat Pouncival least expected...Jemima.

Her angelic voice was low and calming. "I didn't mean to wake you, Pouncival, I just-" she glanced over at Sheni, realizing with dismay that he was alsleep. "I- uh..."

Pouncival growled. "What are you doing here, Jemima? Don't you pay attention to Munkustrap's rules? He said, "NO KITTENS ALLOWED...except for Pouncival."

The tortie kitten sniffled. "I'm here because- well...if I tell you, do you promise to keep it a secret, even from Plato?"

"We don't keep secrets from each other, you know that. Plato is my best friend, my brother...I couldn't keep anything from him."

"Please, Pounci, you have to promise me. You know I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important."

Pouncival was torn. Jemima was his friend. She had always been nice to him, and she'd never given him any reason not to trust her. Besides, she was a Jellicle- it would be wrong of him not to at least listen to a cat from his own Tribe.

"Okay. I won't tell."

Jemima's gaze drifted to her own paws. "Thank you, Pouncival," she replied bashfully. "I won't forget this." She met his eyes again. "I'm here to talk to Sheni about something very important, but I can't tell the grownups. I might get in trouble, because they think he wants to hurt me."

Pouncival's hackles raised. "Why would he want to hurt you?" he asked. Jemima had always been a sweet cat, and only wicked-hearted cats could harm a kitten.

"It's- a long story. I'll explain it later, but I really need to speak to Sheni before sunrise."

Pouncival moved out of the way of the tunnel. "Go ahead."

Now, Pouncival considered himself to be an honorable cat, and honorable cats didn't spy or eavesdrop on others. But in this instance, not only did Pouncival want to stay safe, but he was intensely curious as to Jemima's reasoning for speaking with the prisoner.

"Mph. What do you want?"

"I wanted to speak to you about Macavity."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"I can't be seen with you in the sunlight. They wouldn't let me speak to you again."

"Fine. What's so important about Macavity that you needed to wake me up before noon?"

There was a pause. Pouncival glanced over at his brother nervously. What if he woke now, and found out that he'd let Jemima in?

"Is Macavity really as bad as they all say? And what has he done that's so awful?"

Pouncival nearly jumped out of his skin at Sheni's snort. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over."

"Please, you're my only chance at understanding why he catnapped me."

The young Tom didn't have to see Sheni to imagine his solemn expression.

"Macavity has- an obsession- with your kind. More specifically, with your so-called "magic." It doesn't make much sense in your case...as far as I can tell, you're as magicless as myself. I think he really wants the one you call Mistofelees, but his ideas- they don't make much sense to me. Look, kid, he doesn't exactly tell me all his plans. That's all I know."

"Wait, don't go back to sleep yet, I still don't understand..."

Sheni grunted. "Some things are not meant for us to understand. The quicker you learn that, the easier life will be for you. Now go on, before I do something I may highly regret."

The heat radiating from Jemima's pelt alerted Pouncival to her frustrations. He moved out of her way again, feeling pity for her. He didn't know why she wanted to know so much about Macavity, but he had to admit to himself that he had always been curious of the Napolean of Crime. Every kitten was. It was something that was bred into each and every Jellicle. The rumors were endless. At one time, some cat had spread rumors of Pouncival and Plato's possible relation to the Hidden Paw, but these had been quickly bashed by his parents. The two had no relation to Macavity, so why would their kits? It made not a bit of sense, his mother had insisted.

"Goodnight, Pouncival," she bumped noses with him, and he felt as though his body was electrified.

He gave Jemima an encouraging smile, his cheeks turning red. "Goodnight, Jemi."

She shuffled away, leaving the young cat alone with his thoughts.