ADVENTURE'S PRELUDE | trash bags

[ZORRO]

Zorro was sure that clans spun tales about the life of a loner, how the very nature of its name doomed one to a life of solitude, and how being a part of a group was 'so much better'. He'd wondered since his first encounter with a clan cat, how that latter argument could be the case when justice seemed to be forsaken for politics and your life was forever in the paws of someone with more power than you. It seemed like a smothering life, and with enough strangers crossing the bobtail's path at any given moment, he figured he had everything he needed. His figure had thinned somewhat from the encroaching leaf-bare, the twolegs somewhat reluctant to feed him owing to the red ribbon of ownership donning his neck, all the same, he'd survived without the need to rip his treasure to shreds. A short ways away from the city, Zorro's nose had drawn him to a hulking black mass pulled taut by whatever contents lurked within. Sprightly legs carried him closer to the bag, having spent enough time lurking in the streets to know what these things promised. He was also very aware of what they attracted.

Out in the wilderness, it wouldn't take long for a fox or even larger animal to draw nearer due to the aroma of slightly expired food, if they weren't already watching from the shadows with hungry eyes. Zorro could predict a flood of interest the moment he opened the garbage bag, with a sense of urgency, he prepared his breathing and cast his attention to the half-dead foliage. Someone was there... but he had to chance it. He pressed a paw to the bag and with a horrible rrrrrrrriip, the contents spilled out to the grassy floor. Wrappers of long-consumed fast food caused his dark nose to scrunch up and with an ebony paw, the tom began to paw at banana skins and apple cores in search of a prize far more fitting for a cat. White-striped ears flicked at the rustle behind him and he looked over his shoulder. Blue-grey eyes locked to where he'd last heard the watcher, his ears angled backward slightly in anticipation of a negative encounter. He could admire the lengths others would go to to get what they wanted, but sometimes, it wasn't worth it. "I won't fight for it if you won't, friend. How about we share what we find?"


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[Anastasia]

She did not normally stray so far from the city. While others might think of the concrete walls as suffocating, to her they were a home she knew well. However, food was not always plentiful there and she knew that on the outskirts, twolegs often left their trash out. Once in a bag, they might find a goodie, but in general she had learned it was slim pickings unless a cat found a taste for cardboard and styrofoam.

She did not anticipate another rogue to beat her to it.

Ears flattened and wary, the ginger molly revealed herself at Zorro's words. She could tell from his similar ear position that he was feeling just as uncertain. She was quiet for a few moments, debating if she should flee or keep pressing. Finally she licked her lips and ever so slightly lowered her head as a sign of reluctant trust. "Didn't smell promising enough to risk a fight." She rasped, still standing still as she waited for a next move.

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[ZORRO]

It may not have been a fox that approached the former kittypet, but to someone with poorer sight, the red-hued tabby could easily be mistaken for one. He smiled politely toward her, the expression strained by a myriad of questions he had about the other's intent. Anastasia seemed frozen with indecision for a while, instinctually, he shifted his weight to his hind legs to better jump into the fray should things go wrong. It was no small relief when the tabby decided to take him at his word, though he was certain the pair would still bolt at any sudden moves, Zorro at least felt comfort in knowing that another loner was willing to talk to him. Her words caused his head to tilt upwards. "Yet still promising enough to approach me." He observed, his bunny-like tail wagging with suspicion. "I mean no offense, truly. Word is that funny cats with funny ideas are showing up here more than usual, I take it you're not one of them?" The ribbon around his neck seemed inconsequential to her and she hadn't barked to him yet about the importance of stars, to him, that was enough to suspect that she was a fellow loner.

The ebony fur upon his neck ruffled like a lion's mane, Zorro reluctantly turned around to rummage through the trash, his paws prodding and recoiling from various apparitions that scarcely seemed edible. His teeth latched onto something squishy all of a sudden and he pulled back, revealing a half-eaten breaded cod that stung his nose with an acidic stench. The meat itself did not seem terribly dated, but what the hell had twolegs put on that thing to make it smell so... strong? Eyeing Anastasia, he placed the mangled fish on the ground, his pupils narrowed in warning - he didn't doubt he could catch up if she took his kindness for granted. From his efforts tugging the piscine, other potentially edible contents had been pushed to the forefront of the bag, even a tossed tin of cat food seemed to be present. "I stand corrected, perhaps you were right to stick around. My nose is clearly sharper than yours. He teased with a vexing little smirk, nudging the fish forwards. Darkness still lingered in his eyes, an unspoken command lingering in each sharp gesture and even sharper look. Share. He leaned over one end of the cod and tentatively began to nibble.

Upon swallowing his first bite, the sour flavour miraculously abating after a chew or two, the loner mewed, "My name is Zorro. Can I ask you for your name?"

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[Irispath]

See, Yewberry wasn't good at approaching others. He watched the two from afar, trying to summon the courage to approach. He couldn't be like this. This was how he would starve. He needed to CHANGE. He needed to kickstart the process somehow. He thought all he had been through would be enough..... He was beginning to wonder if he was doomed to be an anxious wreck forever.

But his stomach didn't care about his internal crisis. It wanted FOOD. And so.... He padded over to the two cats before him with a nervous smile.

What if they ate him instead. No, surely they wouldn't. He was just nervous.

But what if THEY DID.

"H-hi.... Room for one more?" He piped up.

He sure hoped they were nice. If they weren't, he would have to wait until they left, and who knows when that would be!
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[Anastasia]

One could never be too certain about the other shady characters around here. Anastasia had learned to be wary even of kitty pets. Her hackles lowered, but her guard did not. She took a step closer on bunched and tightened muscles, keeping her eyes on Zorro but ears angled to the side to catch the approach of any other.

"I'd rather die." She scoffed at such an insinuation. The image of a broken and bloody Coalfoot and Coldsnap recreated itself in her mind. She shook it away with a toss of her head. "Are you?"

The ginger she-cat stepped to the side to watch Zorro slice open the bag and rummage through it. He could get first pick. Trash could either be a hit or miss. Some did not have food in it at all.

Anastasia's pupils widened at the sight of the cod Zorro brought out. Now that the garbage was out in the open air, she could smell the hints of other goodies inside. Still giving her unlikely companion the side-eye, Anastasia pushed forward and grabbed the cat food tin can. The Clans could squabble forever about kibble, but this wet stuff was to die for. She had to save it for the others in Vermillion's group.

Approaching the other end of the cod, Anastasia lowered herself and sank her teeth into it.

"Only since you're so polite and resourceful." Anastasia purred, raising her eyes to meet the other stray. "Anastasia."

Her attention was diverted by the approach of a second cat, and her head whipped around to stare at Yewberry, ears folded behind her head. "His catch." She grumbled, looking back at Zorro. "Not mine." If it were up to her, she might not have shared.

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