Bandit

Bandit hadn't gotten his name by chance. He'd always lived a bit on the edge, swiping bits and bobs from other strays in the city, and occasionally from Twolegs. It was how he'd gotten by at first, as a motherless little kit in an unforgiving city. But eventually it had just become a hobby - he was skilled at it, and it paid him well in various little knickknacks, so he hadn't found much reason to stop.

But stealing all the food and herbs a whole group of cats was living off of had kind of broken him out of his guiltless thieving, and when he'd confessed to it he'd been offered a place to stay among them. Why he'd agreed, he still wasn't sure - but it wasn't something he regretted. They were friendly enough, and he'd even started a little family of his own. It wasn't something he'd ever imagined for himself, but he loved them dearly - and it gave him a chance to make up for what his mother did to him in his own sweet little kits.