Mirage {closed}

The sun wasn't as harsh beneath the tall trees. Ganymede weaved between the undergrowth of the forest, bicolor pelt dappled with white rays of light. He was thankful for the birds and the large ferns that arched over his back. Everytime a spark of anxiety would stab through Gany's demeanor, the tom would remind himself that this part of the forest wasn't that much different than his home. He wasn't lost, and he could always find his way back to his patch of the woods. Usually the younger cat wouldn't dream of going on such a daring excursion. The territory here was much farther from his safe haven than he what he was normally comfortable with, however Greenleaf had forced his paws. The stream that ran from the hole in the Twolegplace had dried up in the hot sun, taking the prey with it. Ganymede was thirsty, he could feel the dryness of his throat and the rasp in his lungs. Moisture in the dense forest wasn't hard to come by, and Gany only had to look a little harder to find a quench for his desire. The problem was that every snap of a twig and flutter of a crow would send his heart racing. It was similar to his home, but very much different. And the change scared him.

A large oak lay across the tom's path, old and ancient, covered in dense moss and foliage. He hesitated for a moment, blue eyes calculating the distance, before leaping on top of the trunk. Ganymede took in the scenery around him, drowning in the lush greenery and smells. There was certainly prey here. If he could be brave, maybe he'd be able to snag a mouse or vole. Claws sunk into the fleshy bark of the tree, still damp from a past rain. Gany grinned to himself and walked the length of the tree with grace, black ears pointed downward until he found a humble puddle. His reflection stared back at him through the water. A round face, stunning blue eyes. Ganymede cast ripples through the illusion as he lapped at the small pool imbedded into the trunk, a sigh of relief passing through him. Soon it would rain again, and he'd be able to go back to his home. Something familiar.

Another snap of a twig had Gany's neck fur rustling. He lifted his head in caution, scanning the surrounding foliage for a predator. His sharp gaze softened when it landed upon a she-cat. She was very beautiful, with ginger pointed marks across her shimmering fur. Ganymede took a leery step backwards, contemplating for a moment if this cat could be a warrior like his father was. Gany decided he best be hospitable and offer what he had, just in case the she-cat had the backing of a large clan behind her. "Hello. Do you... want some water? Greenleaf can get really hot during sunhigh."

Summer drifted, as she always did, but her paws felt a little heavier now than they had when she'd set out in the morning, and it wasn't simply because of the rising heat of day that beat down on her silky ginger-cream pelt. The image of Willowheart, kind soul of ThunderClan, broken on the roadside with grit and blood in her cream pelt flickered into her mind at the flash of every glistening mirage above the surface of the asphalt. She'd found herself edging away from the natural border that was the road, roaring and acrid, towards the tree-line despite knowing that ThunderClan and SkyClan's territories resided there. Some part of her hoped that maybe she would find another kind heart: Mossbloom, the kindly healer who had rescued Summer from the brambles when she'd first taken a trip in ThunderClan's forest. Willowheart was beyond saving - when first she was found and especially now - but something about entrusting the pretty warrior to a healing heart seemed kinder than just leaving her with soft words as the drifter had done.

She hadn't realized how deep she'd wound up drifting into the Clans' territories, but by the time the she-cat's tall ginger ears realized the absence of car noises she became aware of the sprawling trees and dense foliage all around her. It felt more comfortable than being exposed on the roadside. Perhaps that was why Willowheart had never longed to leave, even if she'd expressed curiosity once. Summer blinked her sky blue eyes and collected herself again. She thought, Willowheart would have been a passing companion either way. She loves the forest, and I love the world. She took in a long, slow breath before releasing it. Her friends will mourn her, and I'll celebrate her, or else forget her. Nothing unusual. The world felt clearer and lighter, some of the sadness tucked away. She smiled faintly and became aware of how parched her lips felt, dried in the drifting through the forest. She'd seek something out, and perhaps she'd find the sweet calico she hoped for.

After a while of wandering, Summer crossed the threshold of a clearing to view a large fallen oak with crushed, ancient aged branches. What caught her eye wasn't the tree, of course; instead she saw a handsome, slender-legged tom-cat who had turned to watch at her approach, a wary look on his face. Both of them were taken aback by the other's presence, but the tom's uneasy step backward was telling: he didn't belong here, either. Summer relaxed slightly, raising her chin and pressing out her chest in a faintly regal pose as if merely displaying herself for casual observation. A little submissiveness here, a little domineering there - it was all a careful game to see who to trust and how far, and Summer was often more than willing to give a little extra benefit of the doubt, especially when the tom offered her a drink of the pool he'd found. Summer's face immediately warmed with a smile, her blue eyes softening against his. "Aren't you generous, darling? I'd love a drink if it wouldn't be any trouble."

As she spoke, her tongue tactfully pulled scents from the air. Summer knew this tom wasn't a Clan cat, so she suspected he must be a drifter like her. The cream she-cat dipped her head, glancing down on her ginger-striped cheeks as she began to move peacefully toward him. "My name is Summer; who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" she asked once she'd reached the pool's edge. Closer, she was even more interested in the tom and how he'd come to this area. Surely he scented the other cats, as she had; did he assume they were few and far between, as she'd mistaken at first, or was he a seasoned traverser of Clan boundaries? Perhaps she'd find out.

There was a silent exchange of eyes and body language after the question left Ganymede's mouth. The she-cat before him loosened up and displayed a regal pose, velvet fur glimmering in the sun dapples. There was no denying that she was beautiful, and while her coy mannerisms would be tempting to most toms, Gany just stared blank faced; looking rather awkward up on his perch on the tree trunk. He blinked once, twice, trying to determine whether the cat before him now would wish to tear his hide off in the next few moments. Ganymede had never yet meant a warrior cat, save for his father, and didn't wish to do so on negative terms. The she-cat seemed to be much more experienced at this new silent game they were playing; sizing each other up and the like. Ganymede felt as if his head might explode. The gap between words left too much time for overthinking; a skill he excelled at. However his fears evaporated the minute the cat before him spoke - accepting his offer for a drink.

Her words alone succeeded in laying Ganymede's fur flat. Still, that wary itch was still wedged in the back of his brain. No matter how friendly this cat was, it was important to be careful. If he ever wanted to make it back home; that is. The she-cat strode towards Gany's perch, introducing herself as Summer, and asking for the tom's name as well in one swift movement. Ganymede had never seen a cat so well-versed with conversation. Summer spoke like sweet honey. The tom stiffened a smile at the thought. She was very interesting, as was her name. "Summer..." Ganymede echoed, taking a few courteous steps backward to allow the she-cat space to join him on the trunk and access his puddle. "I know that word." The young tom took a careful seat on the large bark log, tail flicking in deep thought. "My mother told me it's a Twolegplace saying, that it means 'Greenleaf.'" Ganymede flicked an ear and narrowed his brow, his moon-like face staring at Summer's. "It also means you're not a clan cat are you? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. I've never really seen a clan cat, I wouldn't know how to interact with one if they were standing right in front of me!" There was a moment of silence as Ganymede exhaled a grin. His quickly beating heart began to slow, and he focused once more on the birds chirping and the leaves rustling. These were sounds he knew. These sounds made him feel safe.

An agitated crow fluttering away to a nearby branch sent his thoughts back to reality. Ganymede blinked and found Summer's face once more, realizing he had left her question unanswered. Would it be safe to tell this loner his name? Yes, she was calming and quite friendly, but still... Ganymede shook his head subtlety and decided it would be rude of him to refuse. "Ganymede." He spoke, a cheeky, awkward smile spreading across his round face. Gany nodded to the puddle in front of his paws, imbedded into a deep gap in the oak's bark. The loner's mind began to drift as he wondered where Summer was from. Had the hot Greenleaf sun caused her to leave in search of water too? Or maybe she was just a forest cat that didn't enjoy the loud sounds of the Twolegplace. Ganymede stifled a chuckle at the thought. Even though he was quite young, he could certainly relate to that sentiment. A curiosity for the cat before him began to grow, as it usually did when Gany would meet a new traveler. He only wished he could learn about those around him from the safety of his own hovel.

The tom remained a little wary despite the introduction, but Summer made no indication that she was put off or even aware of his uneasy retreat while she approached. After all, names and first impressions only meant so much; she and the other drifter had survived as long as they had through due caution, and Summer had no intention of judging how others chose to preserve themselves. The tom murmured her name as she crouched gracefully beside the water, lowering her head to lap at the pool's surface. Her pale blue eyes flickered up to watch him as he remarked on the meaning of her name, and she smiled with the radiant warmth of her namesake to hear him compare it to one of the native terms for the dry season - "greenleaf". After a few steady laps Summer raised her head again, swiping her tongue around her muzzle and looking to the tom as he asked to confirm she wasn't a Clan cat. She smirked faintly and shook her head, gazing intently into his round, pale eyes.

He explained he was relieved she wasn't a Clan cat, and Summer let out a melodious mrrow of laughter. "I've found it's best to interact with them like regular cats, darling," Summer informed him with an amused purr. The bicolored tom before her was smiling now, more apparently at ease; Summer met his gaze for a moment, wondering if he intended to keep his name to himself. It wouldn't be the first time someone had brushed off a request for introduction! He blinked, and she lowered her head back to the dip in the trunk, drinking a little more while he gathered his thoughts. "Ganymede" he introduce himself after a moment, grinning as he said it. Summer sat up once more, regarding him with an admiring look. "I wish I could make such a clever introduction as you; Ganymede certainly isn't a season, or an upwalker word that I've heard before. Twoleg, I suppose, hm, darling?" She chuckled a little, then dipped her head, "How about you - do you know if it means anything? After all, some names are just names, and not things at all, like... hm... Mareen."

Ganymede blinked in genuine surprise as Summer remarked on clan cats. The way she spoke let on that she'd meant a few before, maybe even lots. The bicolored tom tilted his head to one side at the thought, watching as the she-cat before him took a couple of laps from the pool in the tree's bark. Ganymede listened to the leaves rustle against one another, and thought to ask if Summer had ever meant his father before. Willowflight left before Ganymede was born, not knowing that he had sired a child with Gany's mother. From was his mum said, Willowflight was a great warrior, a gray tabby with bright blue eyes like his own. The tom had always wondered what his dad had gotten up to, and whether he was still with the clans. Gany's own limited knowledge on warriors was somewhat frustrating, it was difficult to contemplate on his father when he didn't even know what kind of life he led. The loner decided the question would be fruitless; even if Summer had meant his father, Gany didn't even know if he wanted to interact with him, much less any other clan cats.

His thoughts continued until Ganymede spoke his name, a word that earned a look of admiration from Summer that caused Gany's brow to furrow. She remarked on his name, noting that it wasn't a season or even a common word at that. And then Summer used a strange word; Upwalker. Her tone was quite clever, and the way she spoke relayed that this strange word was another saying for Twoleg. Ganymede smiled at her intelligence and sly charisma, ears perking up at her laugh. Summer asked if he knew the meaning of his name, to which the answer was no. Ganymede, much like his mother's name Callirrhoe, was just a word. It was a special word of course, one he'd been called all his life, however he had not the slightest idea of what it could mean. The tom figured it had just as much importance as any other name, as it was a part of his past, something familiar that kept Gany grounded. It reminded him of his late mother, however it was still just a name. Summer seemed to relate to this sentiment, commenting that some names are just names, a statement that Ganymede nodded to, blue eyes sparkling.

"Mareen?" Ganymede asked, tail flicking lazily. The tom was comfortable in Summer's presence, a rare feat to accomplish, but one he wasn't opposed to. His curiosity got the better of him as Gany asked about the name Summer mentioned. Perhaps Mareen happened to be a mother as well. The bicolor tom smiled at the thought of having something in common with the pretty drifter. It was nice to be understood, and far nicer to root his past in something other than himself.

The tom made no interjections as to whether or not his name had a meaning as far as he was aware, and so Summer assumed that she was correct and his name was merely a name. Ganymede was curious about the name which Summer had offered as an example, echoing it gently as his tail flicked. She looked back to his face which was bright and interested, not quite so uncertain as it had been upon her arrival. Yes, he was clearly much more at ease in Summer's presence now, and she suspected that the discovery that she wasn't a Clan cat had strongly contributed to that. Summer's whiskers twitched as she smiled and replied, "Mhmm. 'Mareen'. She was a companion of mine for a few moons, her and her sister Bailey and their litters of kits they raised together. Truthfully, darling, I'm not sure that 'Bailey' is anything more than a name either. One of the treasures of drifting is hearing names and words and eventually learning they're one and the same."

Summer chuckled gently and with vibrant warmth, letting her ginger plume of a tail slide delicately and purposefully off the trunk to hang suspended, gently flowing, in the air. She shifted, her fur shining in the daylight. "Clan cats have got interesting names - words and names, names of words. So you've heard of the Clans whether or not you've seen them, hm, darling? I suppose word travels far. Have you heard any of their names?" she questioned nonchalantly. She offered, "They've a whole system for naming. I can at least appreciate the distinctiveness of their tradition." She chuckled slightly, remarking to herself how she still didn't entirely understand it - she'd only finally begun to take to heart that they began as 'kits and became 'paws while they trained before their names changed again.

The tom listened intently as Summer explained who Mareen was. He nodded his head with a slight lop-sided smile as the she-cat went on to speak of the meaning behind their names - or lack there of. The way she spoke didn't take any value away from the concept, however. Summer still held names to a high regard, and explained them with a honeyed tongue. Ganymede didn't know he'd be educated on such an unusual concept today, but he liked it. It wasn't too much of a great change from his usual day to day activities, it was just a small thing, meeting a loner on the far side of the forest, talking about little whispers and the cats they've meant. It caused a smile to slide across the drifter's face as he meant Summer's gaze. "I agree." He purred, claws pricking the surface of the oak they now sat on.

Summer's tail slid off the oak in a graceful manner as she went on to inquire of any clan names Gany had heard. The tom's brow furrowed as he thought back on all the stories his mother had told him of the clans. Willowflight had left before Ganymede was born, but he'd passed his knowledge along to Callirrhoe, and Callirrhoe to Ganymede. Their busy lives seemed quite strange to the tom, as did most things that were different than his usual routine. The bicolored cat blinked a few times in deep thought before lifting his gaze to Summer's. Somehow the she-cat had managed to coax his history out of him. "My... my dad. He's a clan cat. Willowflight, I think." Ganymede took a deep, steadying breath, digging his claws farther into the oak. "I've never meant him, but I've heard stories of course." Ganymede didn't elaborate on how he often pondered what it would be like to join his father in the clans, or how he ever became separated from him in the first place. He'd much rather listen to Summer's ramblings than to tell his own.