The decision had been made. All three of us were going. My heroic escape had not only saved me from the plastic prison, it had saved my siblings too. Victory! Or so I thought… until the next challenge revealed itself.
The Cage.
A single, cramped prison where three noble felines were unceremoniously stuffed together like socks in a drawer. My brother flopped down immediately, taking up half the space with his impressive laziness. My sister wriggled and squirmed, demanding elbow room she absolutely did not deserve. And me? I tried to maintain my dignity, curled neatly in the corner like the sophisticated gentleman I am, while silently cursing their lack of manners.
Then the world moved. The cage was lifted, carried outside, and placed inside a roaring beast with four wheels. The door slammed, the air shifted, and the monster growled to life. The ground trembled, the world outside blurred past the window, and my whiskers quivered.
At first, things were bearable. Then the car turned a sharp corner. My brother rolled sideways like a furry boulder, landing squarely on my sister. She squealed, flailed, and retaliated with a swift paw to his face. He grunted, confused, and swiped back. And suddenly the cage was a warzone. Whiskers clashed. Paws flew. Tails whipped like angry serpents. And me? I was dragged into the chaos, batted left and right by stray swipes, an unwilling gladiator in this tiny arena. Dignity is difficult to uphold when your brother’s tail is wrapped around your face.
The noise was deafening. Three kittens shrieking and scrabbling in a cage can make quite the racket. Ben groaned, pulled the beast to the side of the road, and peered in with wide, worried eyes.
“Alright, alright! Calm down!” he pleaded. As if we could hear him over the racket. Honestly. Humans.
After a few minutes of failure, Ben sighed in defeat. With one careful hand, he unlatched the cage door.
Freedom.

In a blur of fur and indignation, we scrambled out. My sister darted across the back seat, immediately claiming the high ground on the headrest like some kind of pirate captain. My brother waddled into the passenger footwell, curling up as though nothing had happened (convenient memory, that one).
And me? I stood tall on the back seat, front paws pressed against the glass, peering out as the world slid past. Trees, houses, and skies all racing by - a moving picture just for me. The roar of the beast was deafening, but I bore it with grace. Someone had to.
The rest of the ride was… surprisingly peaceful. My sister surveyed the passing world from her lofty perch, my brother snored quietly beneath the dashboard, and I watched everything with keen, unblinking eyes. The car hummed along, carrying us to destiny, though in my opinion, a little less rumble and a lot more cushioning wouldn’t have hurt.
At last, the beast slowed. Stopped. The sudden silence felt deafening after the rumble of the ride. A door creaked open, and light poured in like a spotlight. My sister’s ears flattened. My brother tucked his tail. Even I felt my whiskers twitch uneasily. Ben scooped all three of us into his arms in one determined bundle of fur and carried us inside his house. Probably afraid one of us would make a break for freedom. Sensible, I suppose.
The air was different here... warm, faintly scented of wood and something delicious I couldn’t yet identify. A new territory. Ours to conquer.
Ben set us down gently on the floor, and for a long moment none of us moved. My sister’s nose twitched first, her body low as she padded forward. My brother blinked once, then shuffled behind her, tail dragging like he’d just run a marathon. I brought up the rear, the cautious commander of this expedition.
A sofa loomed before us, soft and vast, practically begging to be claimed. My sister leapt first, scrabbling at the fabric until she perched like a queen. My brother sniffed a cushion, declared it suitable, and flopped. I circled, as any good leader would, observing before committing. The sofa was acceptable… though perhaps not as fluffy as one might expect in a proper kingdom.
We ventured onward, sniffing as we walked. And then… a true marvel appeared: stairs. Steps rising to the sky, leading to untold worlds above. My whiskers quivered at the challenge. Surely greatness awaited at the top. My sister pounced first, claws scrabbling, only to slide back down with an indignant squeak. My brother tried next, made it one full step, and then collapsed dramatically as if gravity had betrayed him. I extended my claws, ready to prove myself but alas, my paws betrayed me too. Upward glory would have to wait. For now.
Ben chuckled softly from the doorway, watching our futile attempts, before guiding us into the final room: his office. A strange, glowing screen sat on a desk, humming faintly, papers stacked around it. Humans and their strange shrines. But I hardly noticed. Because there, by the window, was a wide sill bathed in sunlight.
It called to me.
I leapt, claws snagging, paws steady, and landed squarely in the warm glow. The world outside stretched endlessly, full of trees, clouds, and birds that would surely taunt me later. It was perfect. Mine.
Ben seemed to understand. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a soft blanket, folding it neatly on the sill beneath me. I sniffed it once, circled, and flopped down, chin high. My human, my servant, had passed his first test. At least he’d chosen well with the blanket. Though really, the carpet could do with a bit more fluff.
But one question still lingered: when it came time for food, would he serve me wet slop? Crunchy pebbles? Or something worthy of my magnificence? I narrowed my eyes, tail curling around me.
So far, Ben had done well. But dinner would decide everything.