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Description
CHAPTER THREE
  Milkspot watched as Quickpaw carried Goosepaw away, squeaking. No, don’t leave me behind! His thought came out in a curdled meow. The twoleg who was carrying him paused for a heartbeat and smiled at Milkspot, cooing some more. The other twolegs followed behind him. Their distorted voices made them sound like they were angry, stamping the ground as they walked. While he certainly did not enjoy being carried by the twoleg, he did enjoy being partly shielded by cold leaf-fall winds. He felt warm in the large creature’s paws. Milkspot relaxed a little and waved his tail in the air.
  Upon reaching a large twoleg den, he was set down on a soft boulder. Carefully, Milkspot jumped from the weird object and onto the floor. It smelled like pine trees, and it was slippery. He held him head back, retracting his tongue back into his mouth. What kind of stone is this? Milkspot prodded the floor with his paws, not noticing a fat kittypet stroll into the room. “Aye, what are you doing?” the kittypet snarled and Milkspot jumped, bouncing on his heels a bit. “The floor ain’t gonna bite ye!” The tom was dark gray-blue, his fur was rough and curly and his eyes looked like an owl’s. The snaggletooth on the right side of his mouth was large and poked out as if it was being held up by an ant. It was obvious that this cat was old, he walked with a limp in his gait and his muzzle was gray with age.
  “W-well, it just...” Milkspot’s shy and timid voice shook; his bushy tail quivered between his legs. The confusion in the housecat’s voice made him wonder whether this large feline was nice or hostile.
  “Well what? Didja think somethin’ was gonna pop out and get ye?” the tom strolled over and put his paw on Milkspot’s shoulder, smiling. “The name’s Colby, welcome to me den.” He’s not gonna hurt me? Colby strode away, still talking. “Me name wasn’t always Colby though. It’s a bit fuzzy to me, but once I remember it I can tell ye all about it.” I wonder what his name used to be... Milkspot remembered a long time ago there was a kittypet named Cookie. He thought twolegs were odd, naming kittypets after things that didn’t exist. What was a Colby? The small tom went to ask, but by then Colby has already shambled into another part of the huge den. Milkspot put his nose to the odd-smelling floor again. Pine needles.
  A cough interrupted his thoughts about the weird stone. The blue and white warrior lifted his head. Colby was staring at him from a hole in the den, his wide, yellow, owl eyes staring out. “Ain’t ye hungry? We got food in here.” To be honest Milkspot wasn’t all that hungry, but his stomach still growled in protest. Milkspot padded by Colby into the other part of the den. The tom took a deep breath in through his mouth and took in the sharp smell of meat. “The food’s over here, champ.” Colby pointed at a small silver object on the ground filled with wet bits of meat. “I ain’t hungry, so if ye want it all ye can have it.” Milkspot nodded and took a small bite of the liquid-like food. It tasted like birds, but it was tangy and sour.
  “Hey, champ. Y’know I never got to know yer name.” Colby, once again, interrupted his thoughts.
  “Milkspot.” The blue warrior swallowed and replied, licking meat from his maw. “My name is Milkspot.”
  “Hmm, reminds me of one of me sons. I don’t know what became of him; most of what I remember has been of this nofur den. Maybe me mate and him were taken, most nofurs take the she-cats and kittens away as soon as the kittens are weaned. Hm... Hey, Milkspot, have the nofurs given you a housecat name yet?” Colby started washing his paws. It was almost as if you could hear audible cracking noises as the old tom stretched his legs. A twoleg name...? but I like my name the way it is! Before he could reply, a twoleg wearing a fluffy pelt strode into the room and attached a purple vine around his neck with a bright piece dangling on the bottom. “Well, no ye do... uh...” he squinted, batting at the shiny thing. “Cricket!” Cricket? Sounds like a rogue name! He crossed his eyes and huffed, but he knew this was the fate of a cat captured by twolegs.
  Milkspot got to his paws and staggered back into the main nest area. Suddenly he didn’t feel so hungry. “I’m sorry, Colby.” he turned back to Colby, his voice quivering. “I just need to lie down for a while. Where are the nests?”
  “Nests? Champ; there ain’t no nests in here. I can show ye where the beds are, though.” The old cat stretched once again and padded through a series of holes in the den walls. In a corner there was a large, soft boulder. “There ye are. Sorry for the holes, it’s a bit old.” Smiling, Colby padded back to the food bowls. Milkspot nodded and padded over to the soft boulder, curling up. It was gonna be a long day.

Description
CHAPTER THREE
  Milkspot watched as Quickpaw carried Goosepaw away, squeaking. No, don’t leave me behind! His thought came out in a curdled meow. The twoleg who was carrying him paused for a heartbeat and smiled at Milkspot, cooing some more. The other twolegs followed behind him. Their distorted voices made them sound like they were angry, stamping the ground as they walked. While he certainly did not enjoy being carried by the twoleg, he did enjoy being partly shielded by cold leaf-fall winds. He felt warm in the large creature’s paws. Milkspot relaxed a little and waved his tail in the air.
  Upon reaching a large twoleg den, he was set down on a soft boulder. Carefully, Milkspot jumped from the weird object and onto the floor. It smelled like pine trees, and it was slippery. He held him head back, retracting his tongue back into his mouth. What kind of stone is this? Milkspot prodded the floor with his paws, not noticing a fat kittypet stroll into the room. “Aye, what are you doing?” the kittypet snarled and Milkspot jumped, bouncing on his heels a bit. “The floor ain’t gonna bite ye!” The tom was dark gray-blue, his fur was rough and curly and his eyes looked like an owl’s. The snaggletooth on the right side of his mouth was large and poked out as if it was being held up by an ant. It was obvious that this cat was old, he walked with a limp in his gait and his muzzle was gray with age.
  “W-well, it just...” Milkspot’s shy and timid voice shook; his bushy tail quivered between his legs. The confusion in the housecat’s voice made him wonder whether this large feline was nice or hostile.
  “Well what? Didja think somethin’ was gonna pop out and get ye?” the tom strolled over and put his paw on Milkspot’s shoulder, smiling. “The name’s Colby, welcome to me den.” He’s not gonna hurt me? Colby strode away, still talking. “Me name wasn’t always Colby though. It’s a bit fuzzy to me, but once I remember it I can tell ye all about it.” I wonder what his name used to be... Milkspot remembered a long time ago there was a kittypet named Cookie. He thought twolegs were odd, naming kittypets after things that didn’t exist. What was a Colby? The small tom went to ask, but by then Colby has already shambled into another part of the huge den. Milkspot put his nose to the odd-smelling floor again. Pine needles.
  A cough interrupted his thoughts about the weird stone. The blue and white warrior lifted his head. Colby was staring at him from a hole in the den, his wide, yellow, owl eyes staring out. “Ain’t ye hungry? We got food in here.” To be honest Milkspot wasn’t all that hungry, but his stomach still growled in protest. Milkspot padded by Colby into the other part of the den. The tom took a deep breath in through his mouth and took in the sharp smell of meat. “The food’s over here, champ.” Colby pointed at a small silver object on the ground filled with wet bits of meat. “I ain’t hungry, so if ye want it all ye can have it.” Milkspot nodded and took a small bite of the liquid-like food. It tasted like birds, but it was tangy and sour.
  “Hey, champ. Y’know I never got to know yer name.” Colby, once again, interrupted his thoughts.
  “Milkspot.” The blue warrior swallowed and replied, licking meat from his maw. “My name is Milkspot.”
  “Hmm, reminds me of one of me sons. I don’t know what became of him; most of what I remember has been of this nofur den. Maybe me mate and him were taken, most nofurs take the she-cats and kittens away as soon as the kittens are weaned. Hm... Hey, Milkspot, have the nofurs given you a housecat name yet?” Colby started washing his paws. It was almost as if you could hear audible cracking noises as the old tom stretched his legs. A twoleg name...? but I like my name the way it is! Before he could reply, a twoleg wearing a fluffy pelt strode into the room and attached a purple vine around his neck with a bright piece dangling on the bottom. “Well, no ye do... uh...” he squinted, batting at the shiny thing. “Cricket!” Cricket? Sounds like a rogue name! He crossed his eyes and huffed, but he knew this was the fate of a cat captured by twolegs.
  Milkspot got to his paws and staggered back into the main nest area. Suddenly he didn’t feel so hungry. “I’m sorry, Colby.” he turned back to Colby, his voice quivering. “I just need to lie down for a while. Where are the nests?”
  “Nests? Champ; there ain’t no nests in here. I can show ye where the beds are, though.” The old cat stretched once again and padded through a series of holes in the den walls. In a corner there was a large, soft boulder. “There ye are. Sorry for the holes, it’s a bit old.” Smiling, Colby padded back to the food bowls. Milkspot nodded and padded over to the soft boulder, curling up. It was gonna be a long day.