Chapter 3

"Well, rat-brain, you just gonna stand there all day or what?" a gruff voice from behind the white tom-cat purred cheerily. Fluffy spun around, fur bristling, and the source of the voice, a stocky gray tom-cat, laughed. "You must be new here. I'm Jag, by the way. A Diamond, born and raised."

Fluffy's eyes narrowed, his tail-tip twitching irritably. "Listen here, city rat," he hissed, "I'd love to sit here and chat, but I haven't eaten for days, and I'd like to go do so."

Jag laughed again. "Look at you!" he purred, undeterred by the fluffier tom-cat's harsh words. "You couldn't kill a fly, let alone a meal. From the look of your short little nose, you're a little pet anyways; you don't even know how to hunt."

Fluffy growled, the thinly veiled insult about his face stinging more than a bee sting. "I am not a pet! I am a wild-cat! Besides, I prefer human food. It's..." He wanted to say 'not dead,' but clearly that wouldn't be acceptable with this poor excuse for a cat. "Tastier," he finished, lifting his chin arrogantly.

Jag just grinned, the setting sun coloring his fangs a golden yellow. "Whatever you say, little-kitty-soft-paws. Come with me; I'll get you a warmer nest and a meal. This city is frigid at night."

Food!? Maybe this cat isn't so bad after all, Fluffy thought with a smile, Jag's second insult going right over his head. The white tom-cat happily limped after his new gray friend as he turned to head deeper into the darkening city.

Jag noticed the small blood spots Fluffy's paws were leaving as they walked, making an interested sound in the back of his throat. Fluffy glanced up, head tilted.

"What's up?" he asked, pausing under the dim, yellow light of a city light.

"How far did you come to get here?" Jag responded, and his ragged companion looked amused.

"What?" he mocked. "Am I not just a 'little kitty soft paws' like you thought? Could a pet walk three days with no food? Maybe you shouldn't make assumptions," he added, a slight edge sharpening his words.

"Shut up," Jag growled. "You can find out what it's like here yourself. Just a small word of advice: don't stick your ugly nose in places it doesn't belong."

Fluffy opened his mouth for an angry retort, but the gray tom-cat cut him off, spinning on his paws and standing in his path, lip curled and fur bristling, his yellow eyes livid.

"Listen up, pet," he snarled, shoving his nose closer to his white guest's. "I am not a bad cat. I am not mean-spirited, and I care about my fellow band members. But you, you fluffy, short-nosed freak, are wasting my time and hospitality. I could leave you to rot here, and you couldn't do anything about it. You're already on shaky ground, being a little soft-paw runaway. You need me to stay alive your first couple of days with the Diamonds. I suggest respecting some other cats for once."

As much as he hated to admit it, Jag's words stung like gravel in Fluffy's aching paws. Swallowing his pride–for once, it seemed–he asked the question that'd been on his mind the entire time. "What are the Diamonds?" he inquired, weaving around the still bristling silhouette of Jag.

That seemed to calm the gray tom-cat, and he too continued padding along. "The Diamonds are a band of street-cats here in the city. I'm told the name came from the shape of our camp. It's a big square, you see, but 'the Squares' sounds pretty boring, doesn't it?" he responded, his tail waving in a happy looking way. "Anyway," he added, "we're nearly there. They don't take kindly to pets, and with your face, it's easy to see. So just act casual, and you can eat something. Okay?"

Fluffy nodded, and they continued the rest of the journey in silence, cold darkness seeping into their pelts. Am I really that disrespectful? he wondered almost anxiously. I mean, I have my pride. Every cat does. Right?

The city was still bustling around them, even so late into the day. The sky-touchers looked more ominous than before, silhouetted black and jagged against the midnight-blue sky. Lights lit up their sides in random, sporadic patterns, adding an element of natural chaos and organic life that didn't exist when the sun was out. Round-paws still rolled about, lurching to a stop every so often to let other round-paws pass. For a moment, Fluffy wondered how the street-cats could live alongside the humans and their round-paws that lived in the star-forsaken city, neither above nor below them. But maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe their world was just as dangerous as it looked.