The old man trembled, clutching a tattered bag. "Please... it's just medicine."
They called him "Panther." It wasn't because of his size—he was barely twelve pounds of muscle and fur—but because of his silence. ts panter cat
Panther dropped the pouch. He nudged it toward them with his nose. The kittens squeaked, sniffing the air, then dove into the pouch. The old man trembled, clutching a tattered bag
His claws raked the fabric. A heavy pouch fell out, splashing into the mud. The catnip. But there was something else inside the pocket—a hard drive, glowing with a faint blue light. Panther dropped the pouch
He landed in the adjacent alley, the pouch of synthetic catnip in his mouth, the rain washing the blood from his claws. Behind him, he heard the sirens of the city police drones finally responding to the disturbance.