The Birds. They hold my body in their talons as I slowly watch others appear - it's one of the other Clans, and whatever they have left. My blood soaks my back as my body lays under their claws, their knives. Each one stabs me like a gunshot. Why do I know these words? Rogues, loners, anyone outside of the Clan. They know these words and they know what they feel like. They've seen other animals been killed from these words, these bullets- I should stop. I know much more about rogues and loners than most cats, and some of that information is dangerous. "Maybe they'll tell us about it." "Me neither."