Tiny had never felt so small in his whole life.

He felt like his pelt, which stung due to the wounds his attacker had inflicted on him, had grown too big for him, making him feel even more off-balanced as he stumbled deeper into the Housefolk place. He had no plans or ideas of where to go, he just wanted away from that awful forest and those even worse cats.

Time passed weirdly; it had seemed like morning not so long ago, and yet, when he glanced up at the sky, he sees that the very first of the stars are starting to make their way into existence. Night was coming.

It was only then that he realised the state he was in; injured, without shelter as the sky began to darken, and no idea where he was or who to go to.

He spun around, back the way he had came from, but he couldn't remember the path he had taken in his rush to get as far away from his attackers as possible. He was lost.

Letting out a mewl of alarm, he scrambled up a fence, craning his neck to try and see where he had come from. The forest was but a blur in the distance but he could probably reach it if he walked through the night, then he could work out where Mama lived from there.

Of course, to do that he would actually need to step into the forest . . .

Well, who said he needed to go home? It's not like his mama would miss him, either. She was probably grateful when he vanished, thankful to no longer have to put up with him. If she wanted any of her kits to stay with her, then it would be Socks and Ruby.

Socks and Ruby! He could find them, right? It couldn't be too hard, and they were kin, they had to help him!

He imagined appearing in his one of his sibling's new home, pawing the window, whichever sibling lived there's shocked exclamation, fretting over him. . . .

The fantasy was quickly soured, however, when he imagined their reactions to his wounds and the story behind them. He pictured them rolling their eyes "Tiny is such a liar" he could hear them saying. Or, worse, they would believe him. "Running away into the forest, little brother? Not even they wanted you."

Their laughs, their jeers-

No. Tiny would not go to his siblings for help.

But if he wasn't going to his mama, and he wasn't going to his siblings, what was he going to do?

He paused at the thought, claws digging into the wood as a particularly harsh gust of wind threatened to send him careening off the fence. But that wind brought something else, a particularly delicious smell. Chicken! He turned to regard the house the fence surrounded, where an open window revealed the food.

Tiny's stomach growled, reminding him of the last time he ate. It had been so long since he had chicken, his mama had let her three kits have some, and he had loved the little scraps he had gotten, the pieces that Ruby and Socks hadn't wanted as they snatched up most of it. Shaking himself out of the memories, he craned his neck, trying to see in through the window. It didn't look like there were any Housefolk there.

It . . it wasn't so bad, was it? He needed to eat, and he knew from experience that Housefolk had lots of foot, storing them like squirrels. It was nescessary, it was survival.

Still, he made sure to give the air a quick sniff before leaping down. The wind was howling now, making any scents indistinguishable from the usual smells of a house. He bolts across the grass towards the windowsill, feeling nerves start to settle in his stomach, almost managing to feed his hunger. Almost.

It takes him two tries to reach the windowsill; he has never been able to jump very high, his small stature working against him in that regard. When he finally does, it's less of a graceful jump and more of an awkward flop, but it's all worth it for his prize; the chicken.

It tasted just as good as it did the last time he ate it, better even, now that he needs it that badly. He squirms with delight at the taste of it, carefully working around the bone. It is the best meal he has ever had.

The low, dangerous growl snaps Tiny back to reality, crouching over a plate, in a home that was not his. Turning around to peer back outside, he was met with sharp, pearly white fangs being bared as the biggest dog he had ever seen snarled at him.

Tiny's heartbeat shook his entire body as he stared, wide eyed at the dog. How did I miss him? He wondered desperately, risking a glance at the fence, only to see how the dog would be hidden by a bush. Because of course he would.

The dog let out a volley of barks, and Tiny flinched back, making the plate make a screeching noise that hurt his ears and just seemed to set the dog off. It lunged at him, only to fall back with a yelp.

What? Puzzled, Tiny rose up on his hind legs, to see the rope connecting the dogs collar to the dirt. He can't move. The rope made a creaking sound that put his fur on edge. Yet. The dog can't move yet. Urgently, he spun back around and started eating as much of the chicken as he could. He knew how much danger he was in but he was just so hungry. The dog's barking became much more frantic and his ears flattened against the sound of it, trying to eat his fill so he could leave .

Snap.

No!

Tiny lunged out the window just as the dog came barrelling up. Paws slipping on the slick, wet grass, he bolted back towards the fence, hearing the dog clumsily turn around to give chase. Adrenaline was a powerful thing, his paws moving faster than they ever had as he jumped as high as he could.

He slammed into the fence, not on the top but close to it. Letting out a hiss of alarm, he sunk his claws into the soft wood and began to climb, feeling the dog's hot breath just underneath him. Come on, come on, come on he chanted, pulling himself up.

The sudden absence of the dog's breath made him nervous, but he didn't look down, instead when he got to the top, he leapt down immediately, the breath knocked out of him from the landing. He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself, then frowned. The dogs scent, shouldn't it be farther away now? Why was it so close?

The sound of digging alerted him to what was really going on, and Tiny yelped when he spotted a head start to wriggle it's way out from under the fence, wood splintering in it's wake. It's escaping! Tiny turned tail and ran, hearing a crack behind him as the dog broke through.

When he had been stumbling down these streets earlier, it had been dazed and confused, and he hadn't really been focusing as he trotted along as a slow pace. Not this time, though. He practically flew down the paths, leaping over fences, and backtracking through gardens. Nothing worked, however, as the dog seemed determined to chase him down, and seemed to be tracking him through everything.

Tiny stumbled when the ground began to shake beneath him, the mistake costing him some precious seconds as he righted himself. But the shaking, a mixture of the dogs howls and pawsteps, his heartbeat and breath and . . . something else, continued, growing more and more powerful the further he went. He turned a particularly sharp corner, and immediately found out what that something else was. Large creatures, like the one he had seen outside back at hom- Mama's home. Except that one had clearly been asleep, and these ones were wide awake, roaring past him with deafening noise as he stared, stunned.

So stunned he forgot about the dog until it was almost on top of him. Yelping, he was knocked flat and he had to twist around to see the dog's teeth, dripping saliva, inches away from his throat. He wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a way to squeeze out of there, but at the sound of the dog's growl, low and rumbling, perfectly at home with the sound of those other creatures roaring past them, he stayed still, ears pinned flat.

If he didn't know any better, he would say that it looked almost smug.

Tiny's breathing shortened, panicked and laboured after the chase, struggling to suck in air as the world grew fuzzy at the edges. Even though there was only a paw on his chest, it felt like the dog's entire weight was on him. I'm going to die, he thought, for the second time that day.

It let out a short bark of what may have been satisfaction- which was then followed up by a yelp of surprise. Tiny wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining it or not, but the dog suddenly vanished from where it had been standing over him, and in its place was another cat.

The cat- a tom- peered curiously down at him for a second, green eyes wide and concerned. He tried to say something, but even though Tiny saw his muzzle move, no words reached his ringing ears. His breathing was still heavy, uneven and he had yet to find a way to actually move his body.

Thankfully, the flame coloured tom seemed to realise he couldn't hear him. Instead he leaned down and carefully picked Tiny up off the ground, before turning and striding away.

Tiny had enough clarity of mind of glance behind him- the dog was lying on the path, one of those creatures paused in front of him, with a Housefolk crouched beside him.

The tom couldn't speak when he was carrying Tiny, but, thankfully, he lived nearby. His home had a flap in the door which allowed him to come and go and bring along little kits who were nearly mauled to death by dogs.

Tiny was set, gently, down in a bed, which was good because he did not feel like standing, while the tom sat across from him, his head on his paws as he regarded the much younger cat. "My name is Jake" he said at last "what's your name?" He opened his mouth to answer, and then shut it again

The question, simple as it was, shouldn't have shocked Tiny as much as it did. He had been named Tiny because he was the smallest, weakest of his litter. He hated that name; he didn't want that name. And here was a chance to change it. But he couldn't think of a better one. Instead, he just kept quiet.

"Nameless, huh? Well, why was that dog chasing you?"

Tiny tucked his paws underneath him. "I wandered into his garden" he answered, careful not to mention him stealing food, especially as this stranger had just let him into his house.

Jake nodded, somehow still looking cheerful as he said "that same dog attacked me once. Luckily, I also had help." Then he looked more serious, inching closer to Tiny so that he could sniff him "how badly did he injure you?"

"Uh . ." Tiny wasn't sure what he was talking about, until he glanced down at the shallow cuts on his body "oh, no, the dog didn't do this, a cat did."

At this, Jake's ears flattened, fur spiking upward. "A-a cat? Did this?" He stared down at the tiny kit, obviously bewildered "who would do such a thing?" He demanded.

Tiny leaped at the chance to explain what happened, literally jumping to his paws in his haste "it was one of those" he had to stop and think of his Mama's words "savage clan cats!"

"What."

He ended up telling Jake the whole story; sneaking out, being attacked, running away and getting lost and his encounter with the dog. He even ended up admitting to stealing the chicken, but Jake didn't seem to react to it. In fact, Jake didn't seem to react to anything. He was completely still, staring at Tiny without really seeing him, and the more it went on, the more nervous Tiny became.

Eventually Tiny was through with his tale, and sat waiting for Jake's judgement. He was nervous Jake would laugh, or proclaim him a liar, or just kick him out, but, right now, with Jake just staring without saying anything, he honestly thought he would have preferred it. After a heartbeat too long, he decided to try and help the Tom, asking "Jake?" Which, thankfully, seemed to snap him out of whatever was going on.

Jake shook himself briskly "right, yes, sorry. We should probably get you home to your mother's then, shouldn't we?"

Tiny folded in on himself, crouching down as his tail wrapped around his paws "but I don't want to be drowned!" He wailed, scared.

"Your sister was just trying to scare you" Jake reassured him "Housefolk don't really do that."

He peered up at the ginger cat suspiciously. On one paw, it did sound like something Ruby would do to him, but on the other, how did he know how to trust him?

Sensing his distrust, Jake suggested "why don't we find your mother and ask her? She'll know for sure" he glanced outside his window, showing the moon in the sky "we can go in the morning; my owners are never really around anyways. What's your mother's name?"

What's the harm? "Quince" he said, too busy eyeing the soft material under his paws to notice Jake's sudden stiff posture. "I don't know where she lives though. Somewhere near the" he shuddered "-forest."

Jake stared at him, something resembling awe in his gaze. It made Tiny uncomfortable, made him shift awkwardly from paw to paw. "Yeah, you're definitely staying the night" Jake decided, decisive as he stepped onto the bed beside Tiny, curling up so that he had lots of space if he wanted it.

"Thank you" Tiny muttered, only then remembering his manners. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't stepped in" he let out a sigh, resting his head on his paws "just wish you were there when those clan cat savages attacked me."

"You know" Jake said abruptly "not all clan cats are like that. Some are actually very nice."

"How would you know?"

Jake's tail swished, bringing Tiny closer to him even as his eyes closed. "It was a while ago, but I'll never forget it. I, like you, had been attacked by a dog, and was so sure I was going to die . . . ."