private lost in translation | roseal




Perhaps she has been a little distant lately with her colony but she does have a lot on her mind. She has started to lose trust in some of them and her mind tells her to be wary. Especially of those in regards to her sister. Still she has to provide where she can and after swiping her tongue across her maw from a lizard meal she does set off. Despite the conflict prior she heads towards the oak forest, home to various prey items. She finds that she does enjoy some things thst have fur, such as vole or squirrel. It is rare that they cross over into the marshes. Sometimes they do catch some water voles from time to time but they are still not plentiful. So she hopes to bring a few back. Leaving the softly mudded grounds behind her paws place upon lush forested ground. Overgrown with thick vegetation. Her maw parts as she takes in a deep breath, picking through the scents. One in particular catches her attention and with measured and silent steps she heads in that direction.

Under cover of shadows she peers from the bushes and her ears pull forward. A rabbit is busy nibbling on leaves, moving in her direction. It'll take some time but she can wait. Ambush is key here as she doesn't think to exhaust herself running after it. Slowly and patiently she waits with alert molten eyes, watching the movements of the rabbit's limbs. Closer now, and closer again and she crouches, tail still and form practiced to get the kill as quickly as possible.

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    ── It isn't intentional to interrupt her hunt. Roseal had managed to catch a bird in the upper boughs of the trees, and though he had to be a quiet climber to get that far, he wasn't expecting to need silence on the way down with his catch. It isn't until he's dropping down with an audible thump that he notices the rabbit bolting through the nearby foliage, as well as the cat crouched nearby, clearly in the middle of stalking dinner.

    He recognizes her, has seen her around in the marsh and elsewhere, but he doesn't think they've ever properly met.

    With an apologetic smile, Roseal sets down his bird. "I didn't realize you were down here or I'd have made my exit a little quieter," he says, an indirect my bad. "How about half of my catch to make up for it?"

  • n/a​
  • ──── surr'oseal'isme (roseal). he/him pronouns. roamer; goes where he pleases.
    ──── approximately thirty-eight months old; not entirely certain of his own age.
    ──── single & uninterested in any romantic attachments; possibly open for flings.
    ──── very tall, scarred albino with sharply-peaked ears and a bobbed, scruffy tail.​

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