Padding silently amongst the foliage, Fallen Leaves kept his ears pricked. He was supposed to be doing his sharpclaw assessment. Eventually, he found himself in a moorland, causing his whiskers to twitch curiously.

’The tunnels should be around here somewhere,’ he thought to himself, opening his jaws to scent the air. The faint smell of upturned dirt hit him and he quickly followed it. Spotting the tunnel entrance, he trotted towards it. He blinked as he suddenly came face to face with a stranger.

The cat in front of him was unlike those he lived with. They were obviously well fed and were lean with muscle. He took a step back in surprise, eyes widening slightly.

“Wh-Wha-?” His Tribe never mentioned a cat living in the tunnels. So who was this? And why did they just come out of the tunnels with dirt clinging to their fur in clumps?

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there,” they meowed.

He blinked again. “Um, it’s okay? Sorry, but who are you?”

They let out a soft laugh. “My name is of no concern. May I ask what you were planning on doing? It is soon to rain. The tunnels flood during rainstorms.”

Fallen Leaves stared. The tunnels flooded during storms? That was news to him. He tilted his head slightly. “How do you-?”

“I live nearby. I often use the tunnels for training. They always flood during heavy rains.”

“I-I see.” That wouldn’t stop him, though. He had to prove himself to his Tribe. He had to prove that he was strong enough to become a sharpclaw. He shifted slightly on his paws before glancing at the sky. The usual clear blue was blanketed by dark gray, and thunder rumbled nearby. He winced. Perhaps he would listen to this strange cat.

“Come. I can provide shelter until the storm eases up. Then, I will allow you to do whatever it is you must do down there.”

“I can’t. I have to prove myself,” he blurted only to pin his ears in embarrassment.