What They Called Cat Language

Now that their itinerary had been settled, the most important thing was to find the nest of this vest-wearing rat.

The black cat turned and looked at the Forest Cat.

Earlier, the fat man had dug out several dittany leaves from his pocket and rubbed them over its wounds. The savage gashes on the Forest Cat's face and body had now completely healed, leaving only a few pink scars. At that moment, the foolish cat was sprawled lazily on the ground, clutching a large piece of chicken breast between its front paws and happily gnawing away with its head tilted to one side.

Noticing the black cat's gaze, the Forest Cat gave a start and abruptly sprang up. It made soft whimpering sounds in its throat and wagged its tail ingratiatingly. This greatly annoyed the black cat—he had always thought tail-wagging was Doggy's habit. Who would have thought that among these cats, more than one had learned a "foreign language," and all of them spoke it quite fluently?

If they ever went out and ran into the academy's packs of dogs, would they have to wag their tails at each other in greeting?

The very thought made him sigh.

The tip of the black cat's tail curled irritably. He raised a little white paw, pointed at the Green Vest rat beside him, then pointed toward the woods behind the Forest Cat, indicating that it should lead them to the rat nest.

The big cat stared blankly at his gestures, looked at the rat, then turned to look at the empty woods behind it. After repeating this several times, it finally turned back, gave two ingratiating howls, and went back to gnawing the chicken by its feet.

"You can't even make me understand those gestures, let alone it!" Dr. Xiao finally