Lion's Hunger {closed}

A thick, black cloud had arrived in the air not long after Ganymede left Tanglerose's side. It was strange, but the rough-and-tumble warrior had given Gany a feeling of safety. Standing next to her stocky frame seemed to quash all of the loner's fears into something more manageable. Nothing could possibly surprise Tanglerose - or so he assumed - and by association, it meant nothing could surprise Ganymede either. However he was a drifter, and if he was to find water and food, he'd have to keep moving. Tanglerose had made it clear that there was little to be found across the Thunderpath, and so the young loner stayed to one side, never crossing, delving deeper and deeper into the forest.

The air had grown stuffy and carried the crackling scent of what could only be fire. Ganymede had never seen such a thing, but his mother had. She'd described it as a hungry lion, eating everything in its path, blazing like the sun. It sent a shiver down the loner's spine as he walked, not wanting to imagine what this meant for his home - which resided near the spot of the smoke. Ganymede felt great nostalgia towards that little spot in the glen. He'd grown up in the small forest near the Twolegplace, learning to climb trees to peer over the wooden walls. He'd made friends with the drifters, and memorized the birdsong. Ganymede wouldn't have ever left if it wasn't for his small little stream drying up. Perhaps his journey for water had saved him from the wildfire. But it also may have doomed any chance Gany had to return home.

The Thunderpath stretched on, cutting through the thick canopy of trees and brambles. Ganymede began to cry as he walked near its trail, feeling ever so lonely and fearful - wondering if he'd ever be able to return to the glade by the Twolegplace. His body shook as the loner tried to keep himself grounded, white paws shivering over the nettles. It was only after glancing up to see a young she-cat that Ganymede realized his sorry state. "Oh... hello." He mewed, wiping his eyes. His usual fear of being spotted by a warrior had been alleviated by the pleasant encounter with Tanglerose, and worry for his home. "Sorry... I don't mean to be a downer."

Stormpaw-- no, she was Storm now, she reminded herself, had finally moved on from Fourtrees. At first, while she wished to stay near ThunderClan, she realized she could not thrive near the home of a murderer. Rainstrike was still there. It had been a moon or two, and she was quite surprised that Oakstar hadn't scented her lingering scent around Fourtrees. Was he really that blind that he couldn't smell? Stormpaw hadn't met very many loners, and her brief encounter with Summer left a good impression on her. That flame pointed she-cat had the heart of Dacedream, compassionate to a complete stranger.

She'd had her guard up for a while now, and even when meeting other cats she was prickly, but she didn't have to try so hard to fit in. She was.. free. She could be whoever she wanted. She could say her name was Rainbow and they'd believe her! She could.. Be whoever she wanted to be. Perhaps that freedom is what lured her away from ThunderClan, she needed to be free, and that meant leaving what little she had left. She could be like a bird, she could travel anywhere she wanted. Was that why loners stayed loners? Freedom felt wonderful. The air held a smoky flavor, and, curious to a fault, Stormpaw had followed it.

That's when she was it. Fire. It was blazing, burning, rising from the ground, heat crashing down onto the forest. Great, sturdy trees fell to the crackles, ashes and soot left in its wake. Immediately, she changed course from Twolegplace, which is where she'd intended to go, but she couldn't risk any cat noticing her. So now, here she was, licking her jaw as she stared down at a thrush she'd just killed, standing a fox-length away from the Thunderpath.

The gray tabby she-cat had made a temporary den under a holly bush, still debating on where to go. at the moment, she considered the moor. The only problem was WindClan now stood in her way. Too distracted in her thoughts, Stormpaw didn't hear Ganymede approach. She whirled around, fur on edge, barring her teeth, in the case it was a Clan cat. But this cat didn't look or smell like any Clan cat she knew. "Who are you?" She demanded, refusing to take a chance, lest she have to find a new refuge.

Ganymede blinked at the young she-cat's question, taking a step back, almost scaring the tears from his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, I'm Ganymede. Sorry." The cat was crouched under a holly bush, fur bristling and ears flat. Did she want to hurt him? The tom bit his lip and sat down in the nettles, shaking but determined to ground himself. "I really don't want any trouble... I was just... the fire... and... sorry. Sorry!"

He was hopeless.