WIDOWED WRITER, TORN APART BY CHAINS OF HELL
Night drifted over the roofs of the twolegplace, bathing the silent landscape in the soft glow of moonlight. His two eyes glowed as well, reflecting the eerie light as he walked. His paws barely made a noise as he cleared the corner, his eyes vigilant, his ears pricked. Even though they had settled in the Linwood Park, he couldn't help feeling restless. Being ousted from their camp.. It made him feel vulnerable. It made him feel weak. He didn't like it. They were predators, they were not the soft-hearted prey. The shadow of another cat made him halt, warily keeping still as he observed the other. Who had be been fated to meet at this hour?