unforsaken road [solo]

At first, there hadn’t been time to realize much of anything. Every spare moment went toward scavenging or dodging all manner of wheeled things or finding the warmest dumpster to nap in. But a cat her size could carve out a place for herself anywhere. Once she had done so, she began to look ahead. What she saw was a ring of distant mountains jutting into the sky. Her old colony would have called it wishful thinking. She'd never understood their insistence on doubting their own stories. As the days grew longer, she clung to her ever-increasing suspicion that those far-off mountains were the ones she’d heard rumors about, that something brilliant lay beyond the snow and stone—

And now, standing high enough among them to glimpse the sprawling patchwork on the other side, Athena knew she’d been right all along.

Closest sat the scraggly moor and marshland; then came a winding river, carving the land into pieces. Trees loomed much further off, first in scruffy patches, then so thick and foggy she couldn’t discern anything beyond them. After such a long, lonely winter, it looked like paradise. Even if it wasn’t, anything would be better than spending one more second among the Upwalkers. Eating their leftovers got boring fast; so did having to sneak them out from under the noses of creatures tougher than herself. Though her thick ginger coat disguised most of her hunger, it couldn’t fool the cat wearing it.

Granted, if the territories were real, the fearsome wildcats that occupied them in the stories were probably real, too. But if she’d learned anything from her first real winter, it was that even wildcats had to be more reasonable than city strays. And if they weren’t, well… She’d left home, she’d left everything behind for an adventure like this. She would make it work. Whatever it took.

Athena looked over her shoulder. From here, the Upwalker settlement was little more than a grayish-brown blob. The rats and strays couldn’t hear her now, much less reach her. She glanced around and upward. No predators or prey in sight, and a ledge to hide beneath just in case. Perfect. She inhaled until her lungs ached, then let out a holler toward the territories she’d left behind: “And good riddance!” With that, she began to pick her way across the mountainside, her paws lighter than they’d been in a season.