Banyan | F | 4 | M: Everyone in passing, esp. Riley, Corvus, Remi
It was almost comical, in hindsight, the order of which Banyan was aware of herself. Her first thought that night was that she was unsure why exactly she was awake. It seemed to her, in fact, that she had only just fallen asleep. Her second thought was that it was quite warm, but certainly it couldn't be midday? Riley would never have let her sleep so long; as new as she was to leadership, she still felt that the older tom might be testing her. Mornings of rest were a thing of the past, these days.
All at once, she was aware that the warmth had quickly morphed into pain, and if she had yet to fully rouse herself, she was awake now. Her green eyes snapped open and she looked wildly around.
Oh.
It seemed that their home was on fire.
She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. Banyan had been born here, had buried her mother and father in the grove to the west. She trained to hunt here, and when the previous second leader had died, she had taken up the mantle. It seemed impossible that it should be destroyed by anything at all, and yet... She could hear the crackling. She could smell the heady stench of flame. Pressingly, she could see her own pelt catching aflime, the skin charring. Wildly, she rolled across the floor, smothering the flames to the best of her ability, though the movement made the injured parts of her rump and tail absolutely howl in pain. She barely felt it; now that she was not imminently dying, her concern was only with her kin.
The entrance to her self-dug burrow was all but caved in, smouldering but not really alight. She shoved through it, ignoring the heat and the accompanying pain, but the view on the other side all but stopped her in her tracks. There would be no salvaging this, and it seemed she must be the latest to the party, because the stench of burnt flesh and death permiated everything. For a single, heart-rending moment, Banyan was certain everyone must be dead, because other than the crackle of wood and the sound of falling trees hitting the ground, there was no sound. She was overwhelmed by the sorrow of it, her stance wavering for a moment, and she thought indeed she might just lie down and let the fire take her. Better to be reunited with her clowder in death than live without them, she'd say.
But then there was a change in the wind. With it came more ash, drenching her lovely tan pelt to something more gray, stinging her eyes and lungs. But it also brought the scent of a cat; a living one. Weary, and with the pain of her injuries catching up to her, she staggered towards the scent, though in her delirium she didn't recognize it. They were quite a distance away, beyond the reaches of the fire. It was a smart choice, but Banyan thought sardonically that if the billowing ash kept up the way it was, she might not make it all the way there.
She approached, dodging flaming logs and grass, though her steps were sluggish and her paws were beginning to burn. Her head, peculiarly, felt as if it were underwater. Perhaps she was in shock. That happened sometimes, after tragedy. Regardless, she trudged on, and now she could identify that scent. Rather, a number of them. Particularly heady, there was Riley, and even at a distance she could smell something like concern. It was reassuring to know he, at least, was safe, that even if she hadn't begun to make her way towards him, that what was left of the clowder had a leader, and a damn fine one at that.
It felt like ages before they came into view, as battered and weary as she felt. The group was dishearteningly small, but alive, and her heart soared, Despite herself, she grinned, letting out a mew that would have been embarrasing had she not been so relieved. The first she set her sights on were Corvus, whom she had known to some extent, back when she had been a hunter instead of a leader, and Remi, the de-facto daughter of Riley. Good, she thought, very good that they've survived. She staggered towards them.
"Apologies for my tardiness," she said dryly, hoping against odds she was not interrupting a conversation. "I'm quite certain there's nobody left, though." This was said with a note of saddness, though she kept it off her face rather well. "And on that note, where exactly might Riley be? I do believe I might be facing my own death." It was a casual statement, said offhandedly, though she punctated it by slowly sliding to the ground, laying in a most uncomfortable position. Even then, her eyes were alert as they could be, intense green taking quick inventory of the cats who had made it out.
Spring Month: 3 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
