[nocturnal]

// open!

The ragged grey tom slouched past the ruins, his nose twitching at the scent of stale fish. Bleh—not at all his favorite prey, but he'd still eat it. They were no different than slimy rats, really, mixed with the scales of dead snake.

He paid little attention to the discarded rubble lying around, brushing his tail against the trash when possible in hopes of warding off potential rivals. Granite rarely strayed far from the twolegplace; he hadn't been since that little molly gave him an unjust wake-up call. Fool—what had he seen in her, anyway? Nothing at all. Hoped she liked those cursed kits.

With a low growl, the older tomcat kicked at some strange clanging object [some sort of tin/metal can], sending it bouncing noisily into the distance. The place was beginning to crowd up. He didn't like that.