Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or Warriors or any of their characters. But I own the idea for this story.

"What are we going to do?" Mr. Nervous cried, startling everyone closest to him. His outburst made even more cats start to freak out again.

Mr. Small flicked his tail uneasily. This was harder than he thought it would be. "Please listen to us," the small cat begged. He looked up at the sky; the sun was climbing higher above the trees. "We've wasted enough time already. As of right now, there is no way back home–" He was interrupted by several gasps and growls. Mr. Small pressed on. "So for now we must survive here and to do that we must live as warriors!"

"Live as warriors?" someone called out. "What does that mean?"

"We must unite as a Clan," Mr. Small declared. "We have to live like they do here which means hunting and patrolling and defending our territory."

"Hunting?"

"Patrolling?"

"Defending our territory?"

"We aren't cats!" Mr. Grumpy growled. "Not really! We don't know how to live like warriors!"

"We can learn as we go." Mr. Small was starting to get excited. Now he could explain what Clan cats did and how noble and awesome they are. He opened his mouth to begin, but he felt Mr. Nosy beside him and he turned to see his friend shaking his head, a frown on his face.

"I agree we must make a life here until we can return home," the black cat said. "But that doesn't mean we have to patrol and defend our territory like warriors. We aren't warriors. But for now we are cats, and every single wild cat hunts for his or her food."

"We don't know how to hunt!" Mr. Bump called out.

"We know the details of how to hunt from reading the books," Mr. Nosy announced. He braced himself and jumped to the ground. "You get low like this," he said as he crouched. "But don't let your belly or tail touch the ground. That'll alert your prey."

"Prey?" a ginger she-cat with darker ginger spots gasped. "We have to hunt prey?"

Mr. Nosy nodded as he sat up. "Prey like mice, voles, and squirrels."

"Squirrels?" a white she-cat with brown paws, Little Miss Chatterbox, exclaimed, her eyes wide. "We hunt squirrels? But I'm friendly with squirrels! I used to talk to the ones in my yard all the time. They never really talked back, but I would enjoy our conversations. I can't hunt and definitely can't eat squirrels or any small creature! What else can we eat?"

Mr. Small saw that several others were murmuring in agreement to what Little Miss Chatterbox was saying. Quite a few had disgusted looks on their faces, including a black tom with a neat pelt with white fur above his lip and white fur around his dark green eyes. He sighed and started to climb off the boulder.

He landed on the ground and padded over to his best friend. "I'm sorry, Miss. Chatterbox. But the good news is we're cats now, so we're built to hunt and eat woodland animals. They won't hurt us."

Mr. Nosy glanced at him. "I don't think that's what they are worried about. We weren't born as cats. We don't have the hunting instincts of a wild born cat." He paused and looked around the cats. "But I don't see what else we can do. Miss. Magic doesn't have her magic anymore so until we find another way back, we must do what we can to survive. I know it's going to be hard and unlike anything we've done before," he went on when several others shot glares at him. "Together, we can do anything, as long as everyone pitches in. It'll be just like in Dillydale but just different. It could even be fun!"

His words were met with silence. For a long time everyone just stared at the black tom. Finally, one by one, the cats started nodding or murmuring agreement. Mr. Small sighed with relief, glad that their friends were starting to realize that for now they had to live as cats. He sat up straight and addressed all the cats.

"Let's start by organizing a hunting patrol," the small cat called out. "Who wants to be among the first to feed their friends?"

The cats exchanged glances with their neighbors, several looking worried or upset. After what felt like a long time, a dark brown she-cat stood up. "I'm curious to try hunting," she announced.

Mr. Small heard Mr. Nosy purr. "Thank you, Miss. Curious. Anyone else?"

A silver she-cat with wild yellow eyes lifted her paw. "I want to come," she said.

"Thank you, Miss. Daredevil," said Mr. Small. "Who else?"

For a moment or two nobody else ventured. Then Mr. Bounce stood up. "I'll go."

Mr. Small nodded. "Okay, that should be plenty. Mr. Nosy and I will make up the rest of the patrol." He heard growls when he said "patrol" but he ignored them as he turned and headed toward what he thought would lead them into the forest. He stopped with a paw in the air when a smokey-gray tom with orange eyes called out," What are the rest of us supposed to do?"

Eyeing Mr. Tickle, Mr. Small thought hard about that. "You can… um…" He looked around the clearing. Then an idea came to him. "You see the bushes edging the camp?" he asked, flicking his tail toward a cluster of bushes. "You all can find your own sleeping area. You can sleep by yourself or with a friend. It doesn't matter, but we all need nests."

"Nests?" Mr. Bump gasped. "You mean, we have to sleep outside?"

"Of course." Mr. Small blinked, surprised the mottle gray tom never considered that as they talked about living in the wild.

Mr. Nervous crouched down, staring up at the treetops as a gentle breeze below the highest branches. "W-What if the trees fall on us?" he stammered.

"They won't," Mr. Small assured him.

"And aren't there wild creatures in the woods, such as foxes and badgers?" a brown tabby tom with a messy pelt pointed out.

"That sounds scary!" a ginger she-cat, Little Miss Scary, declared, eyes shining as if she looked forward to meeting the predators, and Mr. Small reminded himself that she loved scary things.

Meanwhile, Mr. Nervous was trembling even harder.

Mr. Small sighed and turned to his best friend, hoping for some support. But even Mr. Nosy was looking worried. Mr. Small exhaled again. "Look, I promise nothing bad will happen, as long as we pull together and help one another. But," he added when he saw the uncertainty in some of the cats' eyes," I can stay here and help with the dens while Mr. Nosy takes Miss. Daredevil, Miss. Curious, and Mr. Bounce hunting." He turned to Mr. Nosy. "Will you be alright without me?"

The black tom stared at him, eyes huge. Then he looked over at the three cats gathering near the entrance. He inhaled and then exhaled. "Yes, I'll be fine." He stood up, flicking his tail. "Wish us good hunting."

"Good luck!" Mr. Small called after the retreating cats. He stared after them, even after they had disappeared through the barrier, and the leaves settled once more. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to the group of cats.

Let's hope I'll be okay without Mr. Nosy, the small cat thought. Taking a breath, he got up and walked to the center of the clearing. Every cat turned to him."Let's start by picking out the bush you want to sleep under, and then we'll find moss and bracken."

Some of them grumbled, but one by one they began to walk away. Mr. Small looked around, wondering where to begin when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see the black tom with a neat pelt arguing with the messy-looking brown tom. He sighed and walked over there, stepping in between them.

"Mr. Fussy, Mr. Messy, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Mr. Messy wants to make his nest close to mine!" Mr. Fussy explained. "I told him I didn't want to."

"But we live next door in Dillydale!" Mr. Messy objected. "It's bad enough that we're cats now; I don't want everything to change!"

Mr. Fussy shifted his paws and didn't reply.

Mr. Small looked at one cat before turning to the other. "I see. I get what Mr. Messy is saying, but Mr. Messy you can't force someone to live beside you." Mr. Messy looked disappointed as Mr. Small turned to Mr. Fussy. "Mr. Fussy, why don't you want to live beside him? You didn't seem to care in Dillydale. If you did, you could have moved, but you didn't."

"I don't want his messiness to get to my side of the den, like it did when we lived next to each other in Dillydale," Mr. Fussy confessed. "I want a nice, clean nest, but I can't have that with him close by. Somehow, it'll get over to my side!"

Mr. Messy frowned, and Mr. Small laid his tail on his shoulder. "How about I help you choose another den?" he offered. When Mr. Messy didn't reply, Mr. Small added," You'll still see each other and be friends, but you won't be living right next to him."

For several moments, Mr. Messy didn't reply. Then he sighed and turned, walking away with his tail dragging the ground. Mr. Small took a step to follow his messy friend, but arguing made him stop and turn to see Mr. Grumpy and Mr. Rude yelling at each other. He sighed. Part of him was feeling envious of his best friend. While Mr. Nosy was out there, hunting and seeing the forest, he was here, breaking up fights between his friends. He felt his shoulders slouch as he walked over to the arguing toms, hoping everything settled down soon so he could go exploring himself.

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