"Great you're here!" cried Fleetpaw, a young fellow with thick black-and-white fur. "We're just about to have a game of Hop-in-the-Air-until the elders arrive, that is."

Thinbone jogged over to join, but Fritti lowered his head politely and moved toward the crowd to look for Hushpad. He could not locate her scent as he slid through the milling group of cats.

A pair of young felas, barely out of kittenhood, wrinkled their noses at him flirtatiously, then ran away, sneezing merriment. Ignoring them, he bowed his head respectfully as he passed Stretchslow. The older male, who lay majestically prone at the base of the Wall, dignified him with a lazy blink of his huge green eyes and a desultory ear-wiggle.

Still no Hushpad, thought Fritti. Where can she be? Nobody missed a Meeting Night if he could help it. Meetings were only on those nights when the Eye was completely open and at its brightest.

Perhaps she will come later, he thought. Or perhaps even now she was walking with Jumptall or Leaf-rustle-extending her tail languidly for them to admire…

The thought made him angry. He turned and cuffed a juvenile torn who had been prancing and capering at his heels. It was young Pouncequick, who gave him such a look of dismay that Fritti immediately felt sorry he had done it-the rambunctious kitten was often a nuisance, but well-meaning.

"I'm sorry, Pouncequick," he said, "I didn't know it was you. I thought it was old Stretchslow, and I was going to teach him a lesson."

"Really?" gasped the young one. "You would have done that to him?" Fritti regretted his joke. Stretchslow would not find it very funny.

"Well, anyway," he said, "it was a mistake, and I apologize."

Pouncequick was charmed at being treated as an adult. "I certainly will accept your apology, Tailchaser." he said gravely. "It was an understandable mistake."