((Nice profile, btw. It would be nice to hear a dog speaking in a British Accent. x3 I'll post for Risto. Also, what does the alley have in it? You mentioned a table...))
Voices.
Soft murmurs echoed through Risto's head, their voices coaxing him to fall asleep again. Pawsteps thudded on the ground, making his body shake. Reluctantly, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking sleep away. Darkness crowded his vision as he blinked a few more times, trying to get used to the dark.
Painfully lifting his head, Risto found himself sprawled on the alley floor, his fur now mattered with dirt and smeared mud once again. Sighing, he pulled his muscles together and straightened up. Flexing his claws, he stilled his whiskers as he listened to his surroundings.
There were voices in the alley. Definitely not humans or one of his own, but a strong one. He bristled as he tasted the air, realizing that the scent was an old enemy of his.
"Fish dung," he muttered softly. "Dogs. Two of them." He stiffened.
The pawsteps were coming closer now, and there was no time to hide.
Straightening out his fur with his licks, he murmured to himself, "I shouldn't let these old dogs think cats aren't properly trained. Besides, dogs themselves don't know how to clean themselves." He let out a soft chuckle. How could he be thinking about making himself look formal, when he was facing a serious enemy right now?
Rising to his paws, he turned to face the darkness. Unsheathing his claws, he flattened his ears and let out a yowl. "Come and face me, you beasts!" he challenged, crouching low into a defense position.