- Jun 7, 2022
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Opening ocean blue eyes a soft yawn pulls from the chest of the cinnamon tiger. His fluffy tail curls against him before he slowly stretches out his limbs and moves to finally stand. He is not too comfortable in the swampy marshlands. It drags at his fur and makes the long strands stick uncomfortablely against his skin. Sometimes it is bother some and sometimes he can bear it. At the moment he is clean after having spent a good measure of time picking and pulling at his own pelt. With a small smile pulling at his muzzle he steps from his nest and looks around the camp grounds. Seems things have been bustling while he took his nap. As is the norm but he merely stretches again with an arch of his back and a good afternood call to those he passes by. Though he has his disklike of the place he knows he can not simply up and leave. It's home despite the mud and minimal items to eat. He has caught a bird here or there because of his jumping skills.
But perhaps he will go and see for himself what he can catch today. Hopefully something his mate will like, maybe sharing with their children? With a small tsk he sets off into the territoy and almost immediately gets sidetracked. By what one may ask? My a simple pinecone that he pounces on. Roughly he bounces it against the ground and chases after it, tail whisking behind him as he tries to keep himself stable.
But perhaps he will go and see for himself what he can catch today. Hopefully something his mate will like, maybe sharing with their children? With a small tsk he sets off into the territoy and almost immediately gets sidetracked. By what one may ask? My a simple pinecone that he pounces on. Roughly he bounces it against the ground and chases after it, tail whisking behind him as he tries to keep himself stable.