W
WOLFSQUALL
Guest
( ♬ ) Dawn had only recently broken over the forest, many cats still sleeping or having just begun to stir awake as the sun speckled across camp.
Wolfsquall was not typically an enjoyer of mornings. He was good at what he needed to do, got jobs done when they needed to be done, so he would wake as early as needed. That did not, however, mean he would be happy about it. On a usual morning, Wolf could be identified by the grumbling that replaced his normally loud speech, the slouch in his posture that seemed worse than the normal level of slumping, the half lidded eyes. Regardless of productivity, exhaust and an urge to curl back into a lengthy nap emanated from him. This particular morning was no different.
The ashen cat’s eyes were open, though they protested the fact. With heavy lids, he stretched out every muscle that wished to remain laying down. From a downward stretch to tackle to tension along his spine, to the flexing in and out of paws, Wolfsquall was making a valiant attempt to wake himself up. The effort was reaching minimal success. But he had a mission for himself, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t go through with it because he decided he needed some beauty sleep.
That stupid catfish. He wasn’t a fool, the fish was likely long gone by now and he would be ridiculous to be bent on vengeance over a fish. Wolfsquall was, however, bent on proving that the encounter was not an accurate portrayal of his fishing skills. Though the prospect of finding a catfish, some minor vengeance, wasn't unappealing. It didn’t matter what Buck had to say, he could have easily caught that fish. His footing was just… The scales were… It didn’t matter. He could have. And that morning, he would. Lucky Wolf, the friend and affectionate mocker in question was in plain sight.
"Buckgait!" he called out, dark paws carrying him closer, "you up for some fishin'? Good morning for it. Those catfish got nothin' on the two of us."
@BUCKGAIT.
"speech"
( SERPENTS IN MY MIND ; LOOKING FOR YOUR CRIMES )Wolfsquall was not typically an enjoyer of mornings. He was good at what he needed to do, got jobs done when they needed to be done, so he would wake as early as needed. That did not, however, mean he would be happy about it. On a usual morning, Wolf could be identified by the grumbling that replaced his normally loud speech, the slouch in his posture that seemed worse than the normal level of slumping, the half lidded eyes. Regardless of productivity, exhaust and an urge to curl back into a lengthy nap emanated from him. This particular morning was no different.
The ashen cat’s eyes were open, though they protested the fact. With heavy lids, he stretched out every muscle that wished to remain laying down. From a downward stretch to tackle to tension along his spine, to the flexing in and out of paws, Wolfsquall was making a valiant attempt to wake himself up. The effort was reaching minimal success. But he had a mission for himself, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t go through with it because he decided he needed some beauty sleep.
That stupid catfish. He wasn’t a fool, the fish was likely long gone by now and he would be ridiculous to be bent on vengeance over a fish. Wolfsquall was, however, bent on proving that the encounter was not an accurate portrayal of his fishing skills. Though the prospect of finding a catfish, some minor vengeance, wasn't unappealing. It didn’t matter what Buck had to say, he could have easily caught that fish. His footing was just… The scales were… It didn’t matter. He could have. And that morning, he would. Lucky Wolf, the friend and affectionate mocker in question was in plain sight.
"Buckgait!" he called out, dark paws carrying him closer, "you up for some fishin'? Good morning for it. Those catfish got nothin' on the two of us."
@BUCKGAIT.
"speech"
