My life seemed to turn into a series of phone calls ...
"I just got a call from Edwin; his team came across the fresh scent of a stray in the pub in town. They found a car he's used in the pub car park and are trying to track him down right now. They think they've come across him before but haven't caught him to give him a warning." I turn at the sound my father's voice. Wade Williamson is the Alpha of our clan, the undisputed leader of our family and its loyal allies.
Let me introduce myself before I go any further. My name is Micah Williamson and I am an Australian Werecat. I am a member of the Williamson Clan, the third son in a family of six sons and one daughter. I am also the undisputed leader of the clan's group of warriors – tomcats who police the clan and protect it from strays and outlaw werecats. Our clan lands are in the states of New South Wales and Queensland; our home is near the Border Ranges with the rugged unsettled land our backyard.
Here Wade owns huge amounts of land where he grows exotic hardwood trees and pine trees to be cut for the timber industry as well as leases some of the best farming land in the area to local farmers for grazing beef cattle. Some of the land we use to grow lucerne hay to sell for winter-feed to farmers and in winter we grow oats to cut and sell as silage for feeding to cattle.
One adventurous farmer tried raising deer to sell to local butchers and supermarkets as venison but he found the wild dingoes in the area quickly developed a taste for freshly killed venison. Now the remnants of the herd run feral breeding in the rough bushland where no one on two legs ventures.
Funny thing about those dingoes in the area is they never venture onto Williamson land. And some crazy old bushy who lives in the adjacent Mount Lindsay National Park swears there are black panthers roaming the park having been bred down from two panthers left behind by the American soldiers that had trained in and around the rugged National Park during the second world war.
"In town you say?" I ask worriedly. Town is under an hour's drive from home - the stray is too close to my young vulnerable sister for comfort.
"I want everyone on this, I want that stray caught." Wade tells me tightly.
"We'll be right onto it!" I growl, the sound starting deep in my chest. The natural instinct of a clan werecat tom is to protect any and all Queens and she-kitts. Since Jazzy is my sister this instinct is doubly strong because it is also linked with our being siblings - her existence ensures that my family's genealogy will be passed on.
"Catch him and bring him back here. We'll talk to him, find out why he's in the area and set him straight on a few things if necessary. If he's nosing around and looking to settle in the clan lands without permission then I'll see he gets a lesson he never forgets," Wade orders.
"Sam! Get your team together! Steven! I want to talk to you!" I yell as I head towards the Warrior Quarters or as we tended to call them the quarters. I can't help thinking of my young sister Jasmine, or Jazzy. She has been sickly most of her life and many had doubted she would make it to ten years old. When she had turned ten many had doubted she would become a teenager. Now Jazzy is no longer a child and fast becoming a grown woman she is finally starting to out grow her childhood illness and thrive. The urge to protect her from any and all threats is very strong; Jazzy is the future of our pride – she will marry and provide the next generation of werecats in our family.
Now there is a new potential threat to her safety, a stray so close to home. Strays are different to us clan cats - they tend to be nomads wondering and unable to settle down in one place comfortable with who and what they have become. We are born to werecat parents while they are the product of a werecat crossbreeding with a human or the descendant of one of these offspring with the werecat genealogy. They are born as humans and some event or illness 'turns' them into were cats. Many don't survive their first shape-shift, don't manage to revert to human form and starve through lack of hunting skills or go crazy shortly after returning to human form.
"Something wrong?" Sam, my second in command asks as I enter the large lounge room of the quarters.
Sam MacIntosh is almost an adopted brother to me, having been raised by my parents when the clan he was born into disintegrated. His mother had disappeared and his father as an Alpha had known that with no Queen or she-kitt his own life and that of his two young sons would be in danger when some ambitious Alpha decided he needed more land to add to his wife's clan lands. So the two young toms had been left with our clan to be raised as members of the clan while their father submerged himself into the human world earning money as an antiques dealer to support his two sons. Sam is one hell of a good warrior and he has proven his worth to the clan time after time. I would rather have him with me than against me. He will be a loss hard to replace when he marries Lotty Inness, a she-kitt from a neighbouring clan. But that is in the future and I don't have to worry about it at this minute.
"Edwin and the others have come across the fresh scent of a stray in town. Wade wants it caught and brought out here for questioning and possible warnings and/or discipline," I say tightly, my anger strong within me.
As the second most dominant tom in the clan I take the intrusion of this stray personally. The urge to catch the intruder and make sure he knows not to trespass on clan territory uninvited drives me as I go to my room and hurriedly change into tough hiking gear. I try to calm down, I know my fear for my sister often comes across as anger or aggression.
"You wanted to speak to me?" Steven asks as he walks into the bedroom we share, makes his way to his side of the room and quickly puts on his army surplus boots.
"I plan on giving this stray a personal memento of why not to come onto Williamson clan lands if he's looking for trouble," I tell him tightly.
"You plan to kick some butt?" Steven grins.
Let me tell you about this tom. We've been best friends since meeting at a werecat engagement party when we were both still too young for school. He's my best mate, my partner when we go off on clan business to deal with strays and outlaws. I know he will have my back no matter how dangerous the situation or whether or not he agrees with what I am doing at the time - we support each other regardlessly.
"If he's some stray looking to check out our Queen and she-kitt then when I am finished with this bastard he won't be coming around anymore. He'll be lucky if he can walk properly!" I snarl.
It's not uncommon for strays that have adjusted to werecat life to become interested in clan females. Most of the time it is harmless but some of the toms are driven by the strong urge to breed and are after a female for only one thing.
"We can't be letting any strays get this close to Jazzy," Mitchell, Sam's younger brother, says from the doorway. I glance at the younger warrior. I'm well aware he is sweet on my little sister and that she returns the feelings.
"You telling me my job?" I ask tightly as I turn to face him. Both he and his brother are exceptional members of the warrior force. Mitchell's only faults are his youth and too compassionate nature.
"No, I'm saying I know my job," Mitchell says.
