Quiet and observant lurked the bright green eyes of the cat. He was curled under a fallen tree, tight in a ball, a breathing shadow. His heart pounded rhytmically in his chest, and he took deep breaths to quiet it. The heavey booted trod he had learned to fear clomping ever closer, crushing the underbrush mercilously. He could not get caught, not again. He would not survive another beating from the slavers.