Storm was the runt of her litter. Not that she’d know that. She never knew her parents. She doesn’t know what they sound like, what they look like, or where they came from. The only parental figure she’s ever known was Thorn. Thorn who came across her as a weak, mewling kitten in the back alleys. Thorn who reluctantly took her under her wing until it was unimaginable to separate.

Together, they navigated the brutal world of the city. Around every corner there seemed to be a new cat wanting to pick a fight over food or places to sleep. Thorn was tough, but she wasn’t invincible. There were many days where they starved or slept out in the cold. Friends weren't easy to come by, either. Nobody wanted to open their territory to more mouths to feed. Not when things were tough as is.

But that only inspired her to get stronger. Thorn protected her, so it was only right that she protected her mother in return. She learned from watching her mother fight. She observed each swipe and hit, begging to be taught. Soon, they were hunting alley mice together. Soon, she was joining the fights. Soon, they were winning more and more of them. But that wasn't a life. It was survival, but it wasn't living. Storm dreamed higher than fighting for a place to sleep each night, always tussling around the politics of alley life. She dreamed of a place where she was in charge. Where she would welcome others in the way they never were.

They didn’t know where to start. According to Thorn, there wasn’t a place in the city that wasn’t contested territory. Everyone was always fighting over what scraps they could get. But what else is there, Storm had thought. What was the world outside the alleys like? It started as a passing quandary, but it grew and grew. For as well-treaded of an adventurer as she was, Thorn had never gone beyond the city boundaries. There was never any need to. This was their lot in life. But Storm wanted bigger.

She urged Thorn out with her, to see what really laid beyond the concrete. And it was massive. It was endless. The horizon went on for as far as the eye could see. They’d spent all that time at each other’s throats for damp, musty alleys when the world was at their paws. From the moment she saw the horizon, there was no going back. She rallied. She told them all of what she saw, and she told them what was left to be seen. Day in and day out, it was the same. Join her. She was going beyond the walls. She was going to brave the world beyond, and anyone who was tired of fighting for scraps could join her.

Few cats even spared her a passing glance. She was young. That is to say, stupid in their eyes. Too naive to be taken seriously. A few humored her, but they didn’t believe. They were content to live their lives as always. It sickened her. It infuriated her how they couldn’t want more. But it didn’t dissuade her. She’d leave, even if it meant only Thorn joined her. She’d create something glorious for the both of them.

So, they left. Only the two of them, as it had always been. They crossed into where stone turned to grass, and they didn’t look back. Not when the sun began to drop, and not when the night-birds started to howl. They slept under a tree, and for the first time in weeks, they didn’t have to fight to do it. There was no keeping watch or sleeping light, just in case. Only peace. The morning was the same. No cats to fight over the rat caught in the brush. No cats at all. Only enough mice to sustain themselves forever if they needed to.

But as they kept journeying towards the large mounds on the horizon, they stopped being alone. There were cats, but not the half-starved ones they’d always know. On the way to the mountains were two-leg buildings with fat, happy cats. Ones who were pampered and lazy thanks to their two-leg families. She’d heard of such a thing, but had never seen it. They spoke to them, and invited them as they journeyed. Few held any interest in the concept. But in many moons to come, they’d be the first ones to carry along the word. To tell of the great coalition built on the horizon, the one which any cat could journey to.

Only one cat of those many would join them: Marlow. Their first member. A friendly cat who’s elder two-leg never came home one day. They welcomed her as family. And, more than ever, the vision of her coalition was upon Storm. A place where the lost and forgotten would rally together, no longer content with the scraps life gave them. They trudged on at record pace. As they moved, more and more heard of their ideal. A pipe dream, most called it. But not all. For every hundred who dismissed them, one cat saw potential. Or, one cat had nothing left to lose. So, they welcomed those cats. They invited them into their blossoming new order, and a new way of living began to be invented in front of their eyes.