[ChameweonRainbow]

Needle padded through the cold woods. The frigid earth hard beneath his well-traveled paws.This cold wandering reminded him of his life before coming here. He had lived (if you could call his daily struggle to just exist a life) on the cold craggy hills that were as barren and dead as his heart and mind. He had wandered aimlessly across the dry grasses and sharp rocks day after day; hunting, sleeping, then wandering again. His life had served no purpose, but instinct kept him struggling to continue on living again and again. It had been an endless barren cycle until he came across a gigantic twoleg territory. The cold rock towers and thunder-paths that reeked of monsters and crow-food had been a stark change to his seemingly eternal solitude. There were twolegs everywhere so he kept to the dark, empty alleys as he furthered his pointless journey to nowhere. But one day he had come across another cat. One that smelled of two-leg crow-food and the acrid stench of the monsters. This spindly gruff cat had told him of clans of cats that were powerful and had a purpose, one of which interested him very much. "The Dusk Syndicate they calls it." the old cat had said. "These cats live to serve thems commander and that's their purpose.And in turn, theys treated withs respect and given food and shelter. A great life I'd say." The gruff tom rasped. Needle had listened intently to the tales of these rogue cats. It was then that Needle had decided where he would travel. He would go to these cats and serve them. For it would give at least one purpose to his aforementioned empty life.
Needle was brought out of his remembering by the sounds and smells of other cats. Here he had a home, here he had a purpose. This group of seemingly vicious cats had given him the most loving opportunity of all. A chance to live.