"Nobody knows where that moving van was going to?!" Mason cried, slamming his paw down with extreme force. The other cats sitting around the table jumped with fright as they noticed cracks forming in the wood where the ginger cat's paw had made contact. Mason, meanwhile, was clearly not happy. His green eyes looked around the room, daring a feline to speak. "No one?" he grumbled, fur bristling.

Just then, everyone gasped as a paw went up in the air. "You in the back, speak up!" Mason called. A small brown and white tabby crept forward, tail in between his legs. Shaking, he gulped as he looked up at Mason, who had one eyebrow raised. Finding his tongue at last, the cat spoke quietly, "I... I managed to attach... a tracker on the van... just before we lost it... sir..." The poor creature continued shaking as he backed away with his head bowed.

A very sinister grin spread across Mason's face as he purred in a silky tone, "Excellent." Eyes glittering like frost, the ginger cat continued, "Boys, grab the guns and fetch the hounds. We're going hunting today..."