It was raining. Not just any rain, it was a flurry, a storm of relentless downpour that caked and soaked the ground. The cries of birds, of animals and dwellers on the mountain, ominous path shushed at the sound of the howling winds and rain.
Jengo sought shelter within the emptiness of a small cave. As he stepped foot into the sanctuary that begged to remind him of the home he had come from, the smell of moss littered his nose. The grainy feeling of wet rock and stench of decay told him this cave harbored not alone himself but another. Still, the absence of another animal’s scent foretold this creature who lived in the dwelling had all but moved along. Normally he would not stay to seek comfort in knowing some monster of a beast still took hold of the shelter, and would leave and find another place to relax.
But today was different. Today he felt tired. Today, he had no need to do anything.
Curling into a ball, he was nestled purposely near the front of the cavern in case of the cave owner returning and finding his intrusion.
His ears flicked, a rain drop having touched them, causing the cheetah to curl in tighter of a circle shaped lump.
Gods, he was cold.
It reminded him deeply of the mountain of snow, the place where he had not only managed to lose himself to insanity but also befriended a beast unlike himself. That idiot of a hyena who he had manipulated to return, or rather, discover for the first of many times the pleasant area of grassland forest.
Most days sun would dance here. Sun, not clouds that brought forth a warning of snow. It was warm, hot even, unlike the bristle toes of his that would freeze from ice sheets blanketing him. He had a desire to sleep from the warmth, only no fear accompanied this for he knew the heat would cease to kill him unlike the cold he knew.
Jengo loved the jungle. He loved the forest. He loved the sidthe, which whom he had come to call his home.
Yet, as he slept his memories drifted back to a time unlike the now. Not so far as to say he was a cub, but a younger youth. For as it stood currently, age was beginning to ware on the baige cheetah.
Memories of his voyage from home to begin with.
It had begun on a morning unlike this. A morning where the sun was dim, like it was under a typical morning sky and the breeze was light and airy. It held with it the long faded scent of fire, of burning trees and burning grass and ash as it swept what was left.
Another fire had started.
This one was much more intended however, as Jengo had carefully planned for this fire. It was isolated, and was created only for the sake of burning away what grass still could burn. He had noticed weeks earlier but the grass seemed to carry a plague. It was dying quickly, quicker than it could grow and if he didn’t intervene now the entire landscape would be void of life.
He was doing this to please his family. No other reason stuck him as good enough.
They had all moved on long ago. His parents, his sister, all of them had gone. To where was not a concern of his, nor did Jengo particular relish in knowing. He had no need, he was not overly attached to his siblings or parents, and so when they had told him they were going he had nodded as if he understood.
When they stocked up on food, preparing for the long journey awaiting them, Jengo had also pitched in to help.
When they smiled and spoke sweetly of times long gone, of the cave and the mountain when it had flowers blooming and no wretched cold air grasping through it. When they remembered on those memories Jengo did not share he would smile back and respond with an “I know.” Coming from his maw.
Finally, when the day arrived that they saw to go through with the plan, to indeed leave and not looking back at the place no longer able to be called home. That was the morning that Jengo stayed behind. He felt no connection, no need, no desire to follow his family.
He knew they would believe it was because he had the desire to remain. He wasn’t ready to leave the memories of cubhood and in turn the one stable home he had. Well, he thought as he watched the fire grow, ‘who’s lonely now?’
Grinning, he turned away from the burning landscape and marched onwards to the higher cliffs of the mountains. Those cliffs, if he remembered correctly lead to tunnels. The Tunnels would lead to both a valley and an even higher mountain. His aim, of course, was the valley. Who wanted to venture to a more snowy area after all?
Jengo felt like someone was breathing on him and at that moment he realized it was in his best interest to wake up. Flittering his one eye open he turned ever-so-slightly to look upwards and see that no one was standing above him. It was just his imagination at play again.
With a stretch Jengo yawned and felt relief in his muscles as they savored no longer being sore. The rain still heaved at the rain with a quick rate, but much to Jengo’s pleasure it was less like rockets and more like normal raindrops at this point.
He heard voices in the distance and for a moment he swore it was Yukiko at him again. When instead it was a couple sidthes walking through the brush Jengo felt air escape his lungs.
He couldn’t deal with any more memories for today. Not ones of his own history, not ones of obsessive hyenas either. Today, he decided as he begun to walk, no more memories were to bother him.
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