we didn't start the [FIRE IN ABAVEN]

*Cannival* · (This post was last modified: 06-05-2019, 07:51 PM by Cannival.)

Cannival

Cannival had spent the morning napping peacefully in the depths of the Thicket where she was to stay out her probationary period. When Motif wasn't around the territory was rather boring, so the cat would often find herself sleeping the day away as the best felines did. The foreboding darkness of the sky had gone unnoticed to her, and the bushes that bordered her make-shift nest did wonders to block all but the hardest gusts of winds from penetration. Deep within sleep, the lioness stirred. Something was happening and somehow, instinctively, her body had sensed the change in the air.

A loud crack boomed overhead and the winds began to rage harder then. Cannival was awoken so abruptly that the female's head bashed into the brushes overhang, catching her ear and face painfully. She tore away from it and with a surging of adrenaline the lioness shot from the bush as fast as her legs could carry her. On the wind she could hear a chorus of panicked howls and it hit Cannival hard that she was likely not the only one in danger. Her pelt puffed up in panic, and head swiveled intently to find the largest tree she could. The fire was looming now, and even though her breath was coming quicker she felt she could hardly breathe. Finding a suitable tree not too far, the lioness launched herself to scramble to the highest point she could, teetering carefully upon one thick branch to survey the area.

Her eyes were beginning to burn now, and she was almost ready to turn tail and run when just before her and towards the flames she noticed the rustling of tall grass. It moved against the wind, and whatever it was that ran through the blades was doing so in a wide circle and was most certainty panicked. It was impossible to hear with the proximity of the blaze, but as she narrowed her eyes and prepared to step off the branch, she saw a small blue snout pop up into view.

Motif! Cannival was shaking now, and she threw herself from the tree haphazardly, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her paw up along to her shoulder as she did so. She couldn't afford to dwell on it long, though, and she continued in a dead-sprint towards the rustling grass. It was pure luck that the lioness didn't trample young Motif in her urgency, and as the pup came into view she slowed just enough to ensure that her first grab wouldn't miss.

Large jaws parted wide, and she enveloped the youngling's back with them and tore her from the ground. Cannival couldn't take care to be gentle, now; the fire surged before them with growing intensity. She continued forward for a very brief moment before slamming her front paws into the ground to force a sharp turn away from the enveloping heat. The pup's paws swung helplessly below her maw as they weaved, and she wished she could say something to comfort her. The lioness thought hard back to when Motif was explaining the layout of the Thicket. She'd not been toured around the other territories of Abaven, and she had no idea how large the blaze might truly be. Water was what they'd needed. Salamanders! With a re-ignited urgency, Cannival took off towards the east.

"Speech"

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