ShaH-li Felenzo Orbonzen threw open the double doors to the saloon impressively. Each door swung wildly out from the entrance, turning upon their hinges and smashing into their respective walls. The doors quickly rebounded, removing the unwelcome source of light by once more blocking the doorway, but by that time ShaH-li was already inside and surveying her surroundings.
The room, with the doors closed, was very dark; lit only by sputtering candles placed randomly on this or that table, and a hole in the ceiling which, around noon, served as a spotlight for the stage beneath. The stage was currently empty - its daily employees either resting, fired or dead - lending no musical backdrop to the animal mutterings escaping from dim conversation between the remaining patrons. A mouse skittered past, and ShaH-li this time resisted the ancient instinct to pounce upon it, rending the fragile creature from limb to limb and proudly carrying its bloody remains back to... where?
ShaH-li had no home to bring dead mice back to. Her earliest memory was of being found in the back alleys behind a sushi restaurant by a gang of armadillos, none of which saw anything better to do with their time than beat up a poor defenseless little kitty. ShaH-li had cowered at their dark, imposing faces, scuttling backwards down the alley until she crashed into a trash can and knew she was trapped. The eyes of the armadillos burned wickedly as their leader bent down to grab her by the neck.
Something awoke in ShaH-li just then - a long forgotten feeling, previously dwarfed by generations of civilization and evolution, but now brought back to the top by the sheer urgency of the situation. Snarling, ShaH-li lashed out with one paw, her un-kept claws leaving deep gashes in the armadillo's arm. It jumped backwards in pain, cursing, colliding with two others of its gang as it did so.
"You shouldn't have done that, kitty-kitty," said one of the armadillos, hefting a crowbar and bouncing it carelessly in one of his hands. "We don't take kindly to resistance, you see."
ShaH-li saw, but ShaH-li didn't care. When the gang began approaching, previously concealed weapons on display, ShaH-li exploded into a flying ball of tooth, fur, and claw, lashing at their legs, jumping onto their shoulders, viciously biting their hands, causing them to drop their weapons in agony. The slow, lumbering creatures had no idea what to do against an animal that fought back, and as such posed little threat to the hissing, spitting flying projectile of war which kept them on their toes and covered in bleeding gashes. When at last ShaH-li leaped backwards onto the trash can which had previously seemed to trap her, tail bristling, all four paws holding confidently onto its metal sides, the armadillos were all either unconscious or fled, caring little for their fallen comrades when compared to the value of their own pathetic lives.
Purring, ShaH-li began to lick herself, smoothing down her rigid fur and bristling tail, slowly returning to rational thought as she did so. The Kittie-Katts had been civilized for decades before ShaH-li had even been born, and here she was, in the aftermath of a purely primal display of ancient emotions and battle tactics. A name flicked through her mind at that moment - Anzlay - but ShaH-li had no idea of who it was or what it might have meant.
It was in this contented, blood spattered state that the police found her, investigating the screams they had heard a moment earlier. ShaH-li wanted to protest, but the battle fires had died down within her, and she was forced to sit there as they snapped handcuffs on her and led her to the station.
The chief there did not know what to do with her, that much was plain. They had been looking, apparently, for that gang of armadillos for months, but there was no room in the already dangerous city for a feline vigilante, especially one who could not keep her own wits about her in a battle. At the same time, the armadillos were all wanted criminals, and ShaH-li had not actually broken any law. (Besides, the Kittie-Katt's sensitive nose detected fear in the body of the police chief, as if thinking she would not take kindly to being put in jail.)
To make matters worse, ShaH-li had no memories of friends or family, so she could not simply be sent back to those who already knew her. The resident psychoanalyst had been unable to find anything in the mind of the Kittie-Katt, and had been forced to give her back to the police chief without any results at all.
Eventually, they decided that if they could not handle the problem, they would just let someone else handle it. ShaH-li was placed on the first flight to Oakloma, Carrotus, where her situation would not exactly be improved, but at least the police would not have to deal with her anymore.

ShaH-li's first thought in Oakloma was to bring this primal talent to use and get a job as a fighter. Unfortunately, Oakloma was more civilized than the city she had come from, and offered no such employment besides boxers and wrestlers, neither of which were expected to launch at their opponent, latch onto an arm or leg, and cut the offending body part into pieces. She had no other special skills, so mid-afternoon found her sitting dejectedly on the sidewalk, with a small cardboard box before her that she had found in a trash can.
"Fresh Fish", read the letters on the box, mocking her. She could turn it around to face the other way, so she would not have to see the scathing advertisement, but what good would that do? Passersby would not have fresh fish randomly flopping around in their pockets to give to her, and even if they did, fresh fish would hardly get her a warm place to stay for the night. The box remained as it was.
ShaH-li had sat there for an hour, staring mournfully at the animals who walked or flew past, ignoring her completely, before one of them stopped and greeted her with a slightly urgent sounding "Hey".