A Panther in Colac

I pushed my front door open. Glaring at it as the handle bumped into the wall creating, yet another, dint in the plaster. I huffed, and headed for the kitchen, I had nothing in the cupboards, nothing in the unplugged fridge. I didn't even have running water. I grabbed a water bottle from beneath the sink, having filled it earlier from one of the water fountains at the park.

I walked into my bedroom, throwing myself back onto my bed I lay there sprawled out. Not moving, just skulling the water. And trying to ignore my growling stomach.

Seventeen years old. I had no job. I had dropped out of school the year before, and I was barely surviving. I was envious of wolfshifters. Or werewolves as they're more commonly known. They had a pack, they lived together, relied on each other. Panthers, no, we had no one. We were on our own. And it sucked.

What made it worse was that Colac was controlled by a werewolf pack. A pack that didn't take kindly to panthers. It was a downside to wolves. The cat, dog thing. A wolf is a descendant of dogs. Panthers are a type of cat. You get the picture. Natural enemies.

I growled, my hunger becoming more jolts of pain, then a consistent rumbling in my stomach. Having enough I stood up.  

"Perhaps I had better find some food." I grumbled. Moving towards my front door, glaring at the dint in the wall the handle had made earlier, before leaving.

I had been hunting earlier, ran all the way up to the forest around The Great Barrier Reef. This was Australia. Victoria.

I was a panther shifter, am a panther shifter. And I was hungry.

I walked outside, lifting my arms I reached for the sky in a stretch. Grinning at the sight of the Colac Lake having some water back into it. The lake had been dry for years. The drought having dried it up. The drought was over now though, and there wasn't nearly as much of a dead fish smell as there had been in those summer months.

I turned on my heel and headed for Maccas, keeping my eyes peeled for any loose change on the ground, or even a note if I was lucky. I had some gold coins in my pocket, but that wouldn't get me much. 

Maybe a McDouble and ten McBites? Four dollars and I get two things. My dad used to tell me, that in his Father's day, he could go down to the shops, use one of those one cent coins, and get a bag of lollies. Why can't we do that now? I'd be able to eat heaps more and be so much less hungry.

I'd be full.

Of course now, you need a whole ten dollars to get the amount of lollies you could've gotten for fifty cents then. Not that the candy bothers me, nah, I'm after real food. Which is even more costly.

I grinned, bingo! There, stuck in the gutter beneath a few loose pebbles was a five dollar note. Yes! I grabbed it, smiling triumphantly as I shoved it into my pocket. That just made my day.

I reached Maccas, and walked in, my stomach gnawing at my spine as a wave of scents hit me like a wall. Salt, beef, bacon, coffee, chips, milk, milk drinks. The list goes on. It was loud too, there was a kid crying in the corner, presumably having fallen over in the playground. There was chattering in other languages, and people at the register struggling to understand customers through their accents.

I walked up to the counter, a girl manned the register, her grin wide and her eyes matching her smile. For once, somebody working here seemed to enjoy it. Not that everyone else didn't, this girl just took 'enjoying' to a whole new level.  

"Hi! What can I get you?" I smiled at her, even her voice was bright and bubbly, 

"Hey, can I get a pack of Bites and a McDouble?" She grinned,