The twoleg carried a tom in his hands. Stroking him,he couldn't struggle anymore. Might as well say goodbye to his warrior name. Maybe he could grow used to this life. But,what could take up for being a warrior. It would have to be something special. The twoleg set him down next to another bowl. They must have another cat.(She-cat) The twoleg also brought out another bowl and a thick stick of some sort with a black top(Sharpie) and wrote marks on it. "Spark is your name now little buddy.) He poured some dry kittypet food in the bowl. And with another bowl wrote Spark on it again and filled it with milk. Milk!? I haven't had milk since he was a little kit.
Kits wanted after mate is found.