DENIAL [PT 2] - A Chameleon SRP

Instructions

Anaconda had known ever since her birth that venomcats were something to be very lightly discussed within clans. She had known that her species was a rarity among them, a creature seldom seen, a cryptid, perhaps. Maybe parents told their naughty kits bedtime stories of venomcats coming to take away bad children in hopes of changing their behavior. Maybe, Anaconda herself had been one such story. Maybe someone had seen her roaming the desert and passed a telling of a rare sighting onto their kids. Anaconda’s life was full of maybe, rich with perhaps, and completely barren in total truth. Living in the Barren Lands did not give much room for certainties, only day-by-day struggles just to get by. The desert provided much alone time when you weren’t born into a strong group. Of course, with her luck, Anaconda hadn’t been born into one such group. She had not been born into power or strength or wealth or anything of much value. She had been born to another venomcat, whose name she never knew, because names did not mean anything to her when it was just the two of them. They had lived in the desert, as all venomcats did, and they lived alone, and it was peaceful for some moons until Anaconda’s mother was killed. She had left their den one day and had never come back, and the then-young venomcat had found her body, bloody and torn up, not much of a ways away the next day. It had certainly been far enough away that she couldn’t have heard the struggle, though, and she had not known what had killed her mother. From that day on, Anaconda had been completely alone. Being alone in the desert as a kit, with such little transition time, was a struggle more than anything else ever had been. Kits needed socialization, and Anaconda had not gotten socialization after her mother died. So, really, she was… weird. That was how clan cats would describe her when she met them, just as… strange, odd, weird, the whole nine yards of mildly insulting words. Anaconda was used to it. It was okay. So, she grew up in solitude from then on. Water and food were scarce, as always, because the oasis was a coveted source, and she could not usually worm her way into its safety. She had learned to avoid it, mostly, and had made a sanctuary of her own. Venomcat dens were usually not that big -- large enough to house a cat or two and maybe a few kits. Yet Anaconda had found that she had so much free time that she started digging, and did not stop digging for a long time. She formed a large burrow beneath the sands, where groundwater would seep its way in through the ceiling into a puddle at the bottom. Not a significant water source, no, but enough to drink from, and enough to get by. This burrow had the advantage of often luring in smaller creatures like mice for Anaconda to hunt. She had everything that she needed, right here, in the sanctuary that she called home. She named it the Snake’s Den, for that was what it was -- a den fit for a snake such as her. She was set, and she barely had to leave. But… that didn’t mean that she /didn’t/ leave. After all, she was lonely. She’d spend a lot of time wandering the desert, looking for someone, /anyone/, who could see past her outside, and see someone who just wanted to care about someone else. That was what she wanted, and that was what she was determined to get. She hadn’t really expected to find what she was looking for /right in her den./ But, life always seemed to work in funny ways for her, so it did. After a long day in the desert, she had come back to her den at night, and had found-- another venomcat sleeping there?! Anaconda screamed, and the other venomcat jumped to their paws, tail lashing, and growled, “Who are you, and why are you in my den?” Anaconda paused. …what? Their den? That couldn’t be right. This was /her den/. She had built it and lived in it and what on this great green earth could have convinced this other venomcat that this was /their den/? “...huh?” Was all that she had managed to sputter out in her confusion for a moment, before uttering, “no, it’s not? This is… /my/ den. I built it?” The other venomcat’s jaw dropped, and they blushed, embarrassed. “Well, then, I-- that’s--” they said, and then they started laughing. Anaconda was offended. Were they laughing at /her/? They saw the look on her face, and their smile fell alongside their laugh as they moved to explain. “So-- oh, that’s funny-- I-- I’m nocturnal, and I’ve been coming here to sleep during the day, and you’re never /here/ during the day so I thought-- I thought it was abandoned!! That’s hilarious, I--” They stopped talking when Anaconda’s expression became even more peeved. This stranger had been living in her den while she was away? This stranger had been /living in her den/ and /sleeping in her NEST?/ Ew ew ew!!