- Nov 2, 2022
- 78
- 3
- 8
Assimilation. She had learned to survive by accommodating, by bending, by assimilating. She was a chameleon, falling into the roles given to her by more charismastic, more powerful cats. Cats that would house her and feed her insatiable dog-like hunger all for the meager price of loyalty so she may cater to their ragged grapplings for control. In truth, it was an easy life she lived, the proverbial phantom hound, waiting for her master's orders. She would be what the phoenix queen wished and while she waited for her queen to point and order an attack, a kill, or anything else she so desired, she would be little more than a watcher.
Pale eyes surveyed the moors now, a delicate claw absent-mindedly tracing the outline of her prey's still ribcage. A little thing it was, a baby hare. She hadn't even meant to catch it - she had been aiming for the mother when she all but tripped into another nest. She had crushed three of the four kits in her stumble, the last's heart giving out due to fear. It was food now, a morsel to feed the morsels back at camp.
Kittens. There were kittens back at camp to be fed. Yes, she had to remind herself that it was unwise to view the clan's youth as expendable bits of flesh. They were to-be warriors, the clan's future. Yet still, she couldn't help but wonder if the kittens back in camp would keel over due to shock in fear if she were to approach them with this assortment of food for their pudgy milk-filled bellies. She was... not well-liked among the nursery-goers for her... intensity, so to speak. She often heard whispers amongst the young ones - boogeyman, the kittens called her.
Hm. Boogeyman indeed, she mused, picking up her morsels to begin the winding way back to camp.
Pale eyes surveyed the moors now, a delicate claw absent-mindedly tracing the outline of her prey's still ribcage. A little thing it was, a baby hare. She hadn't even meant to catch it - she had been aiming for the mother when she all but tripped into another nest. She had crushed three of the four kits in her stumble, the last's heart giving out due to fear. It was food now, a morsel to feed the morsels back at camp.
Kittens. There were kittens back at camp to be fed. Yes, she had to remind herself that it was unwise to view the clan's youth as expendable bits of flesh. They were to-be warriors, the clan's future. Yet still, she couldn't help but wonder if the kittens back in camp would keel over due to shock in fear if she were to approach them with this assortment of food for their pudgy milk-filled bellies. She was... not well-liked among the nursery-goers for her... intensity, so to speak. She often heard whispers amongst the young ones - boogeyman, the kittens called her.
Hm. Boogeyman indeed, she mused, picking up her morsels to begin the winding way back to camp.
- you call for peace when it suits you