L
Lambpaw
Guest
"I Wanna Live With You Even When We're Ghosts"
The city seemed to come to life as the sun began to rise, casting a warm glow across the pavement and allowing for some semblence of hope to blossom. While the sky started to change in shades of blues and purples to that of warm ambers or yellows, birds chirped nearby that had seemingly survivied the snowstorm. Ones that never seemed to leave even when the worst of the winter took hold of the world. It was rather warm for such a barren season and it suggested that spring might come early, or well that was the hope. The cement below was wet and covered in brow or black sludge from humans and cars thundering past. The world seemed more alive today than it had been the last week and it was hopefully meaning there would be more food to search for.
A sopping box sat in an alleyway about a few tail lengths from the street shifted slightly as a body moved within it. Rustling the trash cans nearby and causing enough noise to scare or attract attention, but the figure seemed unbothered about this notion. They pushed aside the flap of the cardboard and onto the tar-covered ground of the alleyway. A rather short cat had emerged from the box and regarded the world with blurry, sleep-filled eyes and then shook out their coat to dust off the leftovers of sleep. The sun drifted above the edges of the buildings and clouds drifted lazily through the sky. Thank Goddness! They were worried there that they would run out of food in that storm.
With a few laps at white chest fur, a cinnamon cat moved around the trash cans and deeper into the alleyway. The streets were never the safest place to be during the day, and plus the better garbage was further down outside some sort of human food place. Whatever it was it was good and always had some sort of chicken or shrimp in it. Sure it'd probably be wet and slushy, but food was food! White paws trotted along the brown goo of snow and ice in a chipper manner as a little hum sprung to their throat. This cat was always rather- happy. It was like nothing in this world was terrible and everything was as it needed to be. Everything happened for a reason and what not.
Nose to the air they scrambled up onto a bin with a lid on it and then ontop of the dumpster next to it. There wasn't much to pick out, it seemed like many cats had already been here, and they gave a disappointed sigh. Suppose they could beg a couple of humans or something but that would have to wait till later. Right now there wasn't many people to choose from. With a shrug, they jumped down from the dumpster onto the ground and headed off for the junk yard.
It was the only place that connected one side of the city to the other and normally wasn't travsered by cats outsie of the dog pack that lived in the yard. Though if early enough, one could sneak through without being noticed and that is what they planned on doing. Just a quick slip through the path that connected one side to the other and then later in the day they would just take the long way back. A short, cinnamon tail was up in the air as they trotted along and they held their head high quite happily. Today was going to be a good day, then they could return to their box for the next wonderful day!
The young cinnamon pelted cat though seemed to slow in their bouncey stride as the junkyard came closer. It towered menacingly across four blocks of the city, and made itself out of human objects like cars, couches, husks of what was one something cherished, and of course; garbage. Though everything felt so empty here. So dark and tattered, like the world had given up here and left it a ghost town. Though that wasn't the truth; a dog pack ruled these lands. Every creature knew to never cross the junkyard or face that of dogs, espeically this pack. They were known for eating other dogs, other creatures as well as trash and scarps. They were cold blooded killers that never seemed to care about anything unless it benefited them. Even their own young from rumors that fluttered about.
Maybe they should take the long way around.
speech
A sopping box sat in an alleyway about a few tail lengths from the street shifted slightly as a body moved within it. Rustling the trash cans nearby and causing enough noise to scare or attract attention, but the figure seemed unbothered about this notion. They pushed aside the flap of the cardboard and onto the tar-covered ground of the alleyway. A rather short cat had emerged from the box and regarded the world with blurry, sleep-filled eyes and then shook out their coat to dust off the leftovers of sleep. The sun drifted above the edges of the buildings and clouds drifted lazily through the sky. Thank Goddness! They were worried there that they would run out of food in that storm.
With a few laps at white chest fur, a cinnamon cat moved around the trash cans and deeper into the alleyway. The streets were never the safest place to be during the day, and plus the better garbage was further down outside some sort of human food place. Whatever it was it was good and always had some sort of chicken or shrimp in it. Sure it'd probably be wet and slushy, but food was food! White paws trotted along the brown goo of snow and ice in a chipper manner as a little hum sprung to their throat. This cat was always rather- happy. It was like nothing in this world was terrible and everything was as it needed to be. Everything happened for a reason and what not.
Nose to the air they scrambled up onto a bin with a lid on it and then ontop of the dumpster next to it. There wasn't much to pick out, it seemed like many cats had already been here, and they gave a disappointed sigh. Suppose they could beg a couple of humans or something but that would have to wait till later. Right now there wasn't many people to choose from. With a shrug, they jumped down from the dumpster onto the ground and headed off for the junk yard.
It was the only place that connected one side of the city to the other and normally wasn't travsered by cats outsie of the dog pack that lived in the yard. Though if early enough, one could sneak through without being noticed and that is what they planned on doing. Just a quick slip through the path that connected one side to the other and then later in the day they would just take the long way back. A short, cinnamon tail was up in the air as they trotted along and they held their head high quite happily. Today was going to be a good day, then they could return to their box for the next wonderful day!
The young cinnamon pelted cat though seemed to slow in their bouncey stride as the junkyard came closer. It towered menacingly across four blocks of the city, and made itself out of human objects like cars, couches, husks of what was one something cherished, and of course; garbage. Though everything felt so empty here. So dark and tattered, like the world had given up here and left it a ghost town. Though that wasn't the truth; a dog pack ruled these lands. Every creature knew to never cross the junkyard or face that of dogs, espeically this pack. They were known for eating other dogs, other creatures as well as trash and scarps. They were cold blooded killers that never seemed to care about anything unless it benefited them. Even their own young from rumors that fluttered about.
Maybe they should take the long way around.
speech
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