* * *
From the back steps of the house in Shoomba Territory, Terrible Bill the tom had watched his food-bringer creep away into the night. It meant nothing to him. He yawned and stretched, sat, lifted a back leg and licked his testicles. The air of the cold front swirled around the dampened organs in a way that made him feel just a little frisky. He looked to the sky where his great eyes showed him the shadows of bats, both large and small. They reminded him of birds whose twitterings he’d occasionally had the pleasure of putting an end to. In the trees over there; that’s where they liked to roost. He remembered, with a shiver of pleasure, their startled squawks when they woke and found him perched beside them, teeth aflame. He started down the stairs.