About the book: year / A snow-white, lean cat rushed across the blooming heather heath, overtaking the wind and barely touching the ground with its paws. The elastic grass crushed under his steps and soon straightened up, and the only thing that could give away the fugitive was the smell, but this was also hidden by the heather. The cat, tired of the long journey, felt his strength leaving him. This path was usually walked with a vigorous jog and with the help of special herbs, but not running and with the heart jumping out of the chest, not seeing anything in front of them with rage…