Hello there! This is actually Version 3 of this chapter. I keep going back and editing it when I look it over and realize that it's not as good as I'd once thought. So, I've changed some things- Hershey is now called Hattie, after the actual cat that Rusty's family adopted. This makes her canon. Also, Rusty was Miranda's high school graduation present instead of birthday present now. This way, we finally know how old she is! About time, right? Made some other small changes. Hope you enjoy it!

-Love, Aquabreeze/Rosepelt, 7/21/11

The Twoleg of Thunderclan

By Zoe McDermott-Adler

Chapter 1:

Lost and Found

Miranda Peck sat leaning against the forest-green decorative pillow in the painted white window seat of her room. Her room was comforting and neat- a sanctuary from her life. The walls were white beadboard, with pictures of sailboats and landscapes hung neatly in modern black frames. The floor, made of smooth, beautiful oak, was bare except for a circle-shaped area rug in the center of it, depicting a scene of pure white seagulls over blue-gray ocean waves, bordered in a circle of ivory. In the corner of the room, near the door, was a tall birch bookshelf, filled with books, and next to it, a plain white table that served as a desk, with a flat-monitor dell computer sitting squarely in the center. A black swivel chair with no cushions stood pushed in, waiting for someone to sit in it. Past the desk, the wall made a sharp 90 degree turn, and a tiny walk-in closet with white slide-away doors stood facing the window. It was filled with Miranda's clothes, mostly jeans and t-shirts. On the other side of the room was her bed, a mattress on a cart covered with forest-green sheets. It was covered in a rainbow of different-colored and different-sized blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. It was a small room, but cozy. The window seat was trapezoid-shaped to fit the windows, which were made up of two vertically-pointing glass rectangles, diagonally turned toward a bigger, more square-shaped window out a few feet. It looked over a small garden with tread-on dusty grass, with the exception of a wooden deck with patio equipment adjacent to the house and a small vegetable garden in the far corner. The view went past a low white picket fence to the untamed woods beyond.

It was those woods that Miranda stared at now, twirling her long black hair, her bright blue eyes filled with tranquil contemplation. She wore a lavender t-shirt, a small silver cross necklace, and jeans. Her bare feet lay stretched out on the other side of the window. She was deep in thought.

It was nine months to the date since her high school graduation present, an adorable orange tabby kitten named Rusty, had disappeared into those woods and never returned. Within two weeks, Miranda's parents, John and Cassandra, decided he was dead. "After all," her father had pointed out, "we can't really expect such a young and helpless cat to survive!"

Miranda clenched her teeth. They hadn't seen how fiercely Rusty had attacked and killed a stray wasp that somehow had made its way into her room, without getting stung even once. They hadn't seen the look in his eyes when he was playfighting with Smudge, the neighbor's black-and-white kitten. They hadn't seen his strength, his speed, the way he'd look out at the woods- that little something in Rusty that made him almost wild.

A slender brown tabby slipped in through the door, announcing her arrival into the room with a loud meow. It was Hattie. The Peck family adopted her after Rusty went missing. She padded across the floor and jumped into Miranda's lap, purring loudly.

Miranda smiled, and began to stroke Hattie's arched back. Hattie was different than Rusty; she was more affectionate, more accepting of house cat life. But Miranda loved her just the same.

As she sat there, she wondered about what had happened to Rusty. Where did he go? And why? Was he dead, like her parents thought? She sighed. There was only one way to find out. Look for him. Again.

Miranda sat up, startling Hattie. Hattie jumped off Miranda's lap with a protest-twinged meow. Miranda walked past Hattie without a look, and walked down the carpeted stairs into the small galley kitchen. She tore a sticky note off a stack on the counter, and a black sharpie from the cup near the sink.

Gone 2 look 4 Rusty. Yes, again. Back b4 dinner.

-M :)

P.S. Happy First Day of Spring!

She stuck the sticky note on the refrigerator, and slipped into a pair of old, worn pink flip-flops. She walked through the living room and was about to leave when-

"Good luck, Miranda."

Miranda jumped, and twirled around. No one was around except for Hattie, who sat regally at the bottom of the stairs, tail twitching, amber eyes fixated on her.

Miranda blinked in surprise. "Did… did you just say something?"

Hattie meowed, as if saying no.

Miranda smirked, shook her head, and walked out the back door, into the cloudy late afternoon. She hopped the picket fence with an energetic bound, and took off into the woods.

Over the next few hours, Miranda wandered the forest aimlessly, calling for Rusty until she was hoarse. But as usual, Rusty was nowhere to be found. As the clouds cleared, and the sky lit up with the sunset, Miranda collapsed in front of a large Sycamore at the edge of a clearing, sobbing.

I failed. Again.

She thought to herself. She was about to pick herself up and head home, when a cat-shaped white blur darted past her. Miranda took off after the fast-moving cat. It stopped, looked at her with wide eyes, dropped something brown and furry from its teeth, and ran off again, faster than before. Miranda was quick to follow.

She didn't lose sight of the cat as the forest whipped by them. She tripped on a pile of bramble, and nearly fell into a small clearing. She watched the cat's bushy white tail disappear into a hole. But then, she looked around.

Miranda was surrounded by cats! They all stared at her with the same eyes as the cat she had chased there. Then, all at once, they began to run around, like a panicked mob. The cats divided up. Plump cats nudged kittens into one hole, scrawny, older-looking cats ran as fast as their old, tired feet could carry them into another, kittens about the age Rusty had been when he had left made their way into another hole, and all the others into a large hole, with one exception. Two cats, one dark gray, and a light brown tabby kitten with white paws, went into a hole stuffed with herbs and grasses.

Miranda could make out an orange tabby trying to slip beneath a rock. There was something awfully familiar about this cat… Miranda gasped. She knew this cat. She called out pleadingly, her eyes brimming with tears of relief and joy-

"Rusty!"