Smallcats ◭ Living Myth ◭ Book 1

Chapter Eight. "What Are You Doing Out Here So Late?"

 Stonerye glanced up at the full moon, flicking his tail absently. It was near midnight now, and he suspected that it was eleven at night at the moment. He could still recall his fight with Mistea, and for a brief moment, his heart cracked. No. I won't think of that liar, he thought fiercely to himself. He wouldn't let his feelings for Mistea ruin his pride. That was never going to happen. Ever.

He felt his eyes drooping, and he reluctantly let his head rest onto the floor, his box den suddenly feeling darker. Stonerye perked his ears and widened his eyes, peering outside of his box den. Nothing seemed to be off at the moment. The patio table closest to the Pathway was occupied by Dew, who had organized the Supply Storage, as Stonerye recalled. Guess he has to make up for his lost work, he thought, pushing down the flash of sympathy.

Ducking his head back into the safety of his box den he curled up again. The raggy old towel that covered half of the entrance to his box den moved softly to the wind. A soft chime whistle reached Stonerye's ears, and a chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong, and he knew it. "Racer. COULD YOU QUIET DOWN WITH THAT CHIME?" a voice hissed.

Another retorted in a loud whisper, "Geez. Look at yourself, Mango."

"I CAN'T, you fool."

"YOU'RE A FOOL!"

"Shut your mouth, would you?"

Then the loud whispering stopped, and even the chime that had been ringing softly in the background had quieted. Stonerye narrowed his eyes and padded quietly out of his box den, glancing around. Dew was still there, sitting in the shadows silently. It was strange, seeing the other tom sit there as still as stone. Shaking his head, Stonerye figured that maybe this time it was his time to shine. He had already eavesdropped on the meeting a few nights ago, and also the one that afternoon.

It wasn't really fair, knowing that Dew had the be the star in this story. Why can't I be important? Ugh. That stupid know-it-all. I figure he's going to steal everything I could have, or I do have. I bet when all this is over father's going to die and he's going to take over. Taking a deep breath, Stonerye calmed himself, knowing that dwelling on things wouldn't help him at the moment. He continued to pad around the base, hearing soft snores of the sleeping Soarians as he walked. "Okay, Mango. Because you didn't finish her, you're finishing her tonight. I'm going to find the heir."

Stonerye abruptly stopped his tail tip flicking. Whoever was talking was close, and he could hear their voices near the Prey Pile. He crept forward cautiously, all the while thinking racing thoughts. Heir? Only the Scavens have one. Why would they be here? Obviously, they don't seem stupid enough. And does the "her" mean--? He felt as if his heart had caught in his throat, and suddenly he felt as cold as stone. Oh, no.

Stonerye hurried his pace, his ears flattened against his head. He had to hurry before this so-called 'Mango' killed Mistea. No, no, no! He quickly scrambled to the door, leaping up in a hurry to open the door. His paw pushed on the doorknob slightly, opening a crack into the shed near the prey pile. When he darted inside, a yowl cracked his ears. His eyes widened in fear as he noticed Furius slumped on the ground, dead. No.

"Oh, yes," a cat meowed from the shadows. For a moment, Stonerye thought that the strange feline had read his mind before the cat said something. "Now Racer will be impressed. Ooh! Maybe even Sea Blue!" Stonerye froze, hoping that his black pelt would help him camouflage into the dark night. The moon was full tonight, which was unfortunate. He knew that sooner or later that the strange murderer would spot the reflection of moonlight on his fur.

He watched warily as the cat padded into the moonlight. If he was correct, this one was called Mango, who was a she-cat. The feline was a pale orange with brown specks and lime-green eyes. She had a scar on her throat, and another on the bridge of her nose. Suddenly, he felt the cold fury envelope his body and thoughts. It was the same feeling he had whenever Dew was around, and other times when he was hostile.