The Tale of Timothy Catchpole Part 3

In a clearing, in the deep, dark wood, there appeared a pile of rocks. Atop of which, eyeing this motley crew, sat none other than Mr Fox. "What have we here?" He said with a sneer, "A Crow playing friends with a Stoat?" "Not only that," he said, eyeing the Cat, "but a Cat with a Mouse in a coat!" "I'm either dreaming, or else I'm mad!" The Fox exclaimed with a sneer. And, licking his lips said, "Now, where do I start?" Mr Stoat! Just step over here." The Cat gave a hiss and arched his back, to make himself as big as could be. "You know me, Mr Fox, we've met before." He hissed quite menacingly. The Fox pawed a scratch just under his eye, and winced as he eyed the Cat. "I've no quarrel with you," he said, backing away, "but why defend these? Tell me that!" The Cat explained and the Fox, though pained, was smart enough to see sense. "There'll be more strength in numbers," said the Fox and led them through a hole in the fence. After a while they arrived at a style by an oak, with a branch both gnarly and stout. "I'll see if Owl's in." Said the Crow with a grin, and flew up and gave him a shout. In a cloud of feathers and too-wit-too-wooing, Owl burst forth from his lair. "What's going on? Why are you here?" And fixed them all with a stare. When he heard their story, he paced up and down, totally calm and unhurried. "For sworn enemies like you to come together, you must all be very worried." "And rightly so, for as you know our survival could be under threat. But I have a plan to scupper their scheme, they haven't seen the last of us yet."