Who Is Out There? [Open]

Jester’s paws traveled quietly through the streets he had been forced to reluctantly call home since he could remember.

He sighed as he looked around, calm in appearance but alert in secret. He knew better than to drop his guard in these dangerous lawless territories, lessons taught through tooth and claw that had been engraved into his mind, and he only felt grateful he didn’t have to say that also on his body unlike many others.

He looked at his own body with narrowed eyes. Most of the wounds he had suffered from his little venture into the wild territories were not almost completely healed and he doubted they would leave any scar behind, but they still gave him several things to think about. He had found more about the wild cats, their groups that they insisted on calling clans and some of their strange traditions in those couple days than through the rumors that were so common around the Twolegplace during all these moons.

After a quick couple licks on the, gratefully, no longer aching wounds, he turned his attention to the world around him again. His ears twitched as he silently slunk into the shadows, the fur on the back of his neck ruffled.

He could just feel when anyone, be cat or not, had managed to spot him and had their eyes on him. That was rarely good news at all around these places, and he wasn’t about to risk it. If he wasn’t attacked that would be a plus, but….you never could be too safe.

Allister padded around an alleyway, looking at the oh-so-appetizing crowfood selection scattered among the strange containers twolegs would dump stuff in. He sighed as he thought of the lively prey back in the forest. Some mice, toads, birds, rabbits, maybe fish, anything in there sounded much better than the strange foods the twolegs left behind. He couldn't complain. Maybe, in a perfect world, him and the groups of cats in that forest would share all that prey peacefully. But, those groups don't want everyone to have a peaceful and perfect life. Only they deserve perfect, the rest can suffer.

His ears perked as he saw someone walk down the streets. A black tabby, it looked like. Allister slowlu approached the cat, keeping his distance. Hopefully, this cat wasn't the typical dust-headed brute he'd find in this twolegplace.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he spoke calmly, "I'm Allister. What do they call you?"