Prologue

Prologue

     The cat slowly rolls onto his back, making sure the warmth is divided evenly among his fur.  He purrs, for the fire is growing warmer and has just reached the rug he is resting on (as the housefolk call it).  His black and white fur reflects the fire's golden color, as it does on the light brown cat laying near him.  She is purring as well, for she has been thinking of the past life she had before this luxury only housefolk can provide.  And sharing it all with her friend makes it even better.  The fire crackles again, and sleep enters the tom. 
"Mom!" The she-cat groans.  She had just been dreaming of the forest shortly after the tom had welcomed slumber.
"Mom!" The tom slowly opens his eyes and scowls at nothing in particular.  He had been dreaming of the forest as well before his son's cry had awakened him.
"Mom!" The kit's yowl finally causes the tom to rise to his paws.  Specks of gray line his snout; he has aged since he last visited the forest.
"What is it you want, Junior?" the tom wearily asks the kit.
"Father, I've grown since I was born.  I am much stronger than I was.  I am no longer a kit!" he says.  The tom stares at him blankly.
"Get on with it," the tom says.
"In conclusion, I'd like to go to the Northern Backyard.  It's about time I left this den."  The tom's eyes widen, and he seems to really wake up.
"Why that's a fine idea, dear," the she cat smiles and lifts her head up.  "But you can stop with the huge vocabulary.  We know you're older."
"Are you kidding me?!" The tom raises his voice.  "He's not old enough yet!  He can't go!"  The she-cat and the kit stare at him, shocked.
"Why, I don't see why not, Victor," the she cat says.  "There's no need to be overprotective."
"Yeah!  I can take care of myself!" the kit says as he puffs out his chest.  The tom sighs.
"You're right, Mahrie.  You're right." The tom sighs and sinks back onto his sleeping spot on the rug.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," the she cat says calmly.  "You've been through a lot."  The tom nods slowly, his eyes drooping.
"Go on ahead, Junior.  I'm sorry for being so harsh." The tom sighs and rests his head on his paws.
"Ok!  I'll see you soon!  I'll miss you!" The kit dashes off into the place known as the Northern Backyard.  
"I'm sorry, Victor.  Get back to sleep." The she cat curls up once more, soaking up the warmth of the fire.  Her thoughts are nothing of the forest, not the scents, not the battles, nothing of it.  But the tom, he is thinking none of the fire.  The heat tries to comfort him, swirling around him, bathing him in the warmth of the flames.  But he ignores it.  Instead, he is curled up as well, pretending to sleep, but thinking back to his days in the Northern Backyard, and what wonderful days those were...