Title: Tavern
Word Count: 201
Rating: PG
A/N: Went with more of an actual scene here, instead of an angsty inner monologue this week. :)

“Eh, ol’ Stormy,” a tattered old cat spat, forcing the little ginger tom down into a bar stool in the dank little cavern that he had been trying to slip through unnoticed.

“E-excuse me?” he stuttered in reply.

“Ya heard me, ya little ‘ouse kit, have a seat, have a drink,” the grayed cat bellowed, giving the ginger a slap on the back. “So wha’ brings a little scrap like yerself to these parts, eh, Stormy?”

The young tom swallowed his disdain for the nickname he’d seemed to have attained from this stranger, and decided simply to answer.

“I’m running away,” he said bitterly.

“Aye, that’s a right lad,” the old cat replied, “Ya come to the righ’ place. There ain’t a one o’ these ol’ coots ain’t run awa’ some time er other. What’s ya gotta ask is what yer runnin to. Can’t just wander the streets til ya find somethin’. Gotta fend for yerself out here. So, Stormy, whereabouts ya headed?”

The ginger grinned to himself. He knew exactly where he was going. He knew exactly what he would be. And he knew, from that moment, that he would never in a million years be Stormy the tavern cat.