cherrygrove ( tugger )

[honey]

Today was a fine day, with the sun laying lazily overhead and cotton clouds breezily passed by. It was warm, but not smoldering and Fritter finds relaxation in this, laying in her normal spot at the edge of camp, peoplewatching to her hearts content. Her tail flicked back and forth as she watched the hustle and bustle of the cats that she lived among, a yawn breaking through her lips as she shook her head. She was growing drowsy, but why waste a beautiful day sleeping when she could be out?
She finds herself rising to her paws, shaking her pelt off from the dirt, and padding to the entrance. She pushes past the gates and in to the forest, relishing the quiet that fell upon her ears as she walked out beyond. Her tail flicked back and forth, her head held high to scent for any prey, ears perking as she catches a trail. She feels comfortable by herself, happy even, as she drops to a crouch and flicks her eyes around the terrain. She spots it, a scrawny little mouse and she approaches, remaining quiet as claws dug in to the earthy ground below. Wait. Her stomach churns for no reason and images of Finch's half standing body, bloody, flashed in her mind. But he wants Cosmos to be okay, her eyes narrowed in to slits. She pounces forth, despite her body screaming at her, and nothing happens as she delivers her killing bite, picking the thing up in her mouth. I'll make sure things are fine. She knows not of what made her anxiety spike, perhaps it was the fact that she felt helpless? She did not know and so instead of continuing, she begins to walk back to camp.
@TUGGER ​

☾ "speech" ☽​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

Fritter's arrival is not left unnoticed. The king's dark eyes train on her as she approaches, his gaze traveling from the mouse to her multi-colored eyes. She seems... conflicted... in a way, though he can't tell if its because of the size of her mouse or something else entirely. His tail twitches once as he weighs his options of greeting. He could ask what is on her mind, or perhaps congratulate her on the catch. Any food is good food, after all.

He moves towards her and a thought bubbles, half-formed, straight from his brain to his mouth. "Il paraît qu'il va bien." He's doing fine. Finch. Of course his first thought is Finch. Maybe, he hopes that she is thinking about him too. He keeps seeing the blood, the look of the child's face. "Si vous vous demandez." He adds quickly, as if he were purely considering her own thoughts rather than blurting out his own.​

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[honey]

Shes lost in her own thoughts as she walks, but a familiar language brings her out of it and her heart flutters. Her face lights up as eyes land on a familiar cat, someone that was on scene with Finch. "Je l'espère." she breathes as the mouse tumbles ungracefully from her mouth. She stands there for a moment, dumbfounded, everything about Finch forgotten- since when could someone else speak French? Oh, this was perfect! Her eyes begin to water and she keeps blinking the tears away, her heart twisting. She wouldn't be the only weird one here, her thoughts race again and she smiles for the first time in a while.
"Depuis quand tu sais... parler français?" shes beaming now, bashfully, and she tries to hide her face. "I didn't know you could. Cats don't understand me." shes referring to Daisy Flight's mispronunciation of the word bonjour, Scarlets remark about how she spoke. "Quel est votre nom, monsieur?" she can't remember his name, just his face, as they have only met in passing. She likes this. Ember may be her first friend, claimed in words, but perhaps she'd have a genuine one now, if she didn't mess this up.
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☾ "speech" ☽​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

Tugger's whiskers twitch in amusement. He is loathe to tell this little tabby that his knowledge of her language was borne of an aggressive competitive streak and a desire to tell those Chartreux bastards what their froggy tongues could lick in their own dialect. He is even more loathe to admit that her own accent reminded him a little of those same cats, though hers was a lilting sort while theirs were mired in insincerity and fake rasps for effect.

"Je m'appelle Tugger, mademoiselle. My French is... rusty, but I hope it's serviceable for conversation. Your accent, it's Parisian, no?" He already knew her name, so he cared not to ask for it. It was a waste of breath to confirm something he already knew. Fritter. A pastry. At first, he expected something more suited to her speech - Bonbon, perhaps, as Tugger knew a fritter to be some deep-fried amalgamation of dough and oil. But with time, as all things did, Fritter's name was something that became commonplace. Her accent, though, her lilting accent still caught his ear and so he waited patiently for her response.​

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[honey]

She listens to what he has to say, smiles when he responds back. Shes excited, beyond excited, the last time she had spoken conversationally in her home tongue was... many moons ago. "Je suis ravi de faire votre connaissance, Tugger." she dips her head respectfully. He speaks of her accent and she draws in a sharp breath, only to release it when no mean quip came out. "Oui, I am from Paris itself. Long way from home." she laughs but a wave of homesickness drew over her. She flicks an ear, avoiding eye contact before her next words tumble out before she knows it. "Is my accent really that noticeable?" there was a twinge of sadness and embarrassment, but she could not be weak.
The mouse suddenly catches her eye again and she puffed out a sigh. "Feeble, at best. Do you want to go out with me? Hunt another?" she feels bad if this thing would be brought back to the kit, Cosmos.​

☾ "speech" ☽​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

Tugger lets out a little chuckle at her nervousness. "Don't be shy, only someone who knew what to look for would be able to tell the difference." The accent intrigues him more than disturbs him, though he's not quite sure what to say when it comes to home and being away from it. The forest is their home as far as he is concerned. He decides that it is a topic that can be broached later.

"A hunt sounds good. Are you more comfortable on the ground or in the trees?" There would be more to see and catch in the canopy, in his opinion, but it was she who suggested the activity. His ears twitch, thinking about being able to show off his climbing skills to someone he could converse with in a more civilized language. Maybe this group wasn't completely full of train-wrecks and mongrels after all.​

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