Lone Star Mountain combustion

Lemongrass was busy gnawing on the head of a rabbit. Her fur glistened in the snow, a light yellow that would look like a sunbeam from far away. She had left a trail of blood from where she'd killed the rabbit to the deep snow pit she'd chosen to eat it in. Her golden eyes were dull with sleepiness, and she planned to nap after this meal. She thought about the white snow, how it matched the white of the room she'd spent most of her life in before here. She didn't like it, the sterile cleanliness of it, the way it made her feel crazy with loneliness and sad beyond imagination. She got up and chased her tail a little, growling playfully to herself. Then, she sniffed around, imagining that there was someone around who could spend time with her, talk to her. She looked into the distance, imagining that someone would come for her.

Suddenly, she saw a black figure in the snow. She snarled softly, instinctively, bristling defensively as she backed up slowly. She wanted company, but she wasn't sure if she was ready, and what if they tried to take her food? Her dainty paws sank into the deep snow and she yelped as she fell into the snow and rolled around, trying to get up frantically and yelping. She howled and yipped as she flailed her legs in the air uselessly.