- Jun 7, 2022
- 417
- 337
- 63
− ♱ ABOUT : the tall, curled felidae entered the clearing with naught a word. forest avian sing high in the looming trees, interconnecting canopies of yellow - green dappling the wide, open clearing in shades of agonizing gold. heat ricochets off slate boulders ahead, it's surface kept just below scalding by the grappling shade from above. greenleaf had taken the forest by force — radiance now so bright it made his eyes ache, still somehow unaccustomed to a life outside of the shadows he had so often lurked in ; blending into the background and avoiding the spotlight as if the very touch of golden attention could leave him howling in pain. there had been rain recently, warm showers feeding into the flora twining eagerly around the opening ; hollow and trembling and hovering in sunbeam mist, layering upon dew - slickened grass. it leaves his heart sore and glistening, but grown over with hedera, begonias growing within ivory confines of his curving ribcage.
a breeze carries the distinct scent of pine.
the kittypets were becoming more and more of a nuisance by the day ; their sickly - sweet twoleg scents twining heavily with the pine just over the thunderpath. teeth grit agonizingly with each sudden, unwelcome whiff of hard food pellets and fresh milk, discarding the promise of a soft, cushy life waiting just behind the odd - shaped twoleg nests, a life away from hunger. starvation. his stomach twinged uncomfortably and the bicolor suddenly couldn't recall the last time he sank his teeth into the thick, heavy meet of a plump squirrel or chipmunk — the small rodent being formerly copious around the land, feeding on the scraps of the nearby city and notoriously slow. easy to catch. easiness seemed to be most those fleabitten, soft - bellied cats favorite thing.. thus why as dawn made its first stretch over the glowing pink-white horizon, cicada figured it was time to give some of the more.. heavily populated land a visit.
a patrol quickly thrown together, a band of feline with an anger to match his own. a hunger to match his own. the prey that has lived about the wide, boulder studded clearing had been abundant such a short time ago ; when too - soft piners lounged about over the gold - bleached rock, bathing in the sun when they weren't catching what remained of life themselves and smearing their scent about as to ward the rest off.
they could do that too.
" cover as much ground as possible, " his tone is bitter, overly sharp in his oddly curved vocals. icecap luminaries shift back from the flora he'd just marked heavily with the scent of marsh," this is our land, our hunting ground. we will not let those kittypet mongrels starve us. " if there were any of them around, it was difficult to tell already. good.
a breeze carries the distinct scent of pine.
the kittypets were becoming more and more of a nuisance by the day ; their sickly - sweet twoleg scents twining heavily with the pine just over the thunderpath. teeth grit agonizingly with each sudden, unwelcome whiff of hard food pellets and fresh milk, discarding the promise of a soft, cushy life waiting just behind the odd - shaped twoleg nests, a life away from hunger. starvation. his stomach twinged uncomfortably and the bicolor suddenly couldn't recall the last time he sank his teeth into the thick, heavy meet of a plump squirrel or chipmunk — the small rodent being formerly copious around the land, feeding on the scraps of the nearby city and notoriously slow. easy to catch. easiness seemed to be most those fleabitten, soft - bellied cats favorite thing.. thus why as dawn made its first stretch over the glowing pink-white horizon, cicada figured it was time to give some of the more.. heavily populated land a visit.
a patrol quickly thrown together, a band of feline with an anger to match his own. a hunger to match his own. the prey that has lived about the wide, boulder studded clearing had been abundant such a short time ago ; when too - soft piners lounged about over the gold - bleached rock, bathing in the sun when they weren't catching what remained of life themselves and smearing their scent about as to ward the rest off.
they could do that too.
" cover as much ground as possible, " his tone is bitter, overly sharp in his oddly curved vocals. icecap luminaries shift back from the flora he'd just marked heavily with the scent of marsh," this is our land, our hunting ground. we will not let those kittypet mongrels starve us. " if there were any of them around, it was difficult to tell already. good.