3.

A gray and orange cat stared out the window as the rain slowed to a trickle. “Oh, look, Boots is watching the rain, Papa!” a little redheaded girl cried.

Asille inwardly flinched. She despised that awful name the humans gave to her. It was because of the way the orange markings around her paws resembled boots. She never answered to it, which annoyed the little girl. “Just wait,” Asille muttered. “You’ll never call this kitty ‘Boots’ again.”

“Oh, Lydia, she probably wants out,” the girl’s father said.

“But it’s wet!” Lydia protested. Asille narrowed her eyes. She hated that stupid girl. The rain stopped, and Asille walked exquisitely toward the back door and gave a small mew.

“What did I tell you? Let Boots outside,” the father told the girl. Lydia scowled and opened the door, watching her precious kitty as she headed for the end of the street.

“Dersoun?” Asille called into the factory. “Dersoun, I’m here!”

A pair of brown eyes glimmered in the low light of the mill. “Good. This is what you must do. Do you remember the tom you discovered the other day?” Dersoun asked.

“Yes.”

“Lure him here. Make him believe he is aiding a, what’s that human phrase again? Oh, yes. Make him believe he is aiding a ‘damsel in distress.’ Do not let on what will happen, and don’t seem anxious to get here.”

“Anything else?”

“Make sure he is alone. Not a single cat must follow you two. It could cause… unpleasant complications. Go now, and return with the tom.”