private VULTURE MEETS CULTURE ( THUNDERGLEAM )

[BLOODY MARY]

Routine never did her well... That was the incompatibility between her and the wild cats. Bred boredom, it did, and though that thing isn't fully upon her, she feels the creep of it nipping at her cotton tail. She awaits her name, awaits the cloak of something new to assume her fully. Surely the bones would reveal themselves then, left to cool once the meat is tender enough to fall free... She'd tear through it herself, otherwise; cut through skin with a decisiveness... Things aren't so dire yet, though.

She couldn't care for whoever it is she may be disobeying, picking her away across the borders like this... She's set on a hunt, and wild cats didn't hide themselves well... It's no wonder they're torn apart as often as they are! Thick prey scent lies along their borders, set with a certainty. Oh, they wanted to be found, and something like her is happy to comply. Nearly two moons is plenty to learn the face of a SkyClanner, but she's oblivious to what wool their neighbors wore... Soon they'd be her neighbors too. Another half moon or so and her fleece would be made.

Her search isn't silent, no... No word from a deer's mouth could make her one, all frail-limbed and dainty... The woods seem to creek with her presence. There's a rustle in the wilderness... A thing like her is more for chasing than stalking... Caught between the trees, gaudy eyes find that splash of something rosy. She nearly thinks it a reflection for a second, all bleached bone. Smaller, though. Daintylike. Less wolf than her... Excitement flares bug-eyes wide. What once was a rustle quickens to crashing. She frets she might lose it— lose them, and no competent hunter could ever stomach such a thing, she's sure... It isn't just noise though, what she's doing... No god needs smile upon her, for this wish of hers to be granted... Luck is all is. That, and the barest instinct of wariness, maybe.

Swan's wings wander closer, and here, does the wolf see her chance. Appearance made with a surge of something. Pine meets oak. It's an honest mistake, really, that she lays a paw across the border! Only the ripe scent of ThunderClan in her nostrils keeps her from fully careening over it, spurred by the pump of her blood. The whole of her seems to lean forward when she breathes her greeting, " He-llo. " That visage of theirs is raked over with a keenness. " Haven't seen somethin' like you before. "

THEY SAY I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM TRYING ⬪ 𝒜 𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒩 𝒮𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯 / ( 12 . 05 )

• OOC. Halla :D @THUNDERGLEAM

• 
  BLOODY MARY ⬪ DAYLIGHT APPRENTICE. SHE - HER - HERS. 26 MOONS.
  

  A dog-like woman. Large, with bulk in some places, and only lean muscle in others. Elegant at some angles, acutely strange looking at others. Has a longer, wolfish muzzle and gleaming dog teeth near-always on display due to an overbite. Skull presses insistent against her skin. Eyes are almost too - large, and not all sunken in her skull. Has large, tufted ears. Polydactyl, with a curved spine and recently-chopped tail.

​

 

[THUNDERGLEAM]

The pine-scent always haloed the ground, here ... hallowed, a reminder that the border was a silver-threaded thing, cast by the stars. Oh, by now she would be a fool to forget it. It sparked within her a certain admiration for the Skyclanners; that they could hunt among the mask of needling stench, it was impressive, she could not deny. That there was a hunter within, she should have anticipated; that they were hunting her, she could not have forseen. There had been dogs in her dream, but a few sunsets ago ... dissonant chorus. She was glad not to meet that foe alone, though the visage before her was somewhat close.

She almost did not see her, amongst the snow and the brush of evergreen pine- pushing green pupils, snow clinging to a hulking skeleton. Rosy gaze blinked tenfold, bulletfire bewildered- tracked the traces of red from the tips of her fangs. Thundergleam startled, then - only a little delayed a jump, when the Skyclanner craningly moved. Hulking thing, it was flooring. "Oh!" a yelp, breathless thing, that she could not hold fast in her throat. Haven't seen something like you before, breathed raggedly.

Thundergleam's gaze softened; she could not tell if she was being admired or studied. "I apologise, those ... those markings of yours," Trickling down, vampiric ... there was something striking about them, streams of blood. As if marks of fate had streaked their way down from the teeth, branding this cat as something hungry. "You look as though you have made a meal of a meal." A laugh bubbled, still twinged faintly with shock.

Pale eyes fell to a paw ... oversized, she noted, though in a way she could not quite parse. Rosy attention rose- a little, polite whisper left her. "Mind the border, dear- I earnestly do not wish to bring real blood out of those stains upon you." They were lines almost tempting, a mirror directly of how she had been taught to kill. It was not a threat, though ... merely a suggestion. She was rather tired of snark at borders.​

penned by pin ☾​

 

[BLOODY MARY]

She scared her. Scared her good. She almost worries hadn't heard her for a moment, with the way she stares, but the blood starts to flow again soon enough. It's unkind when it does, surging hot enough to make her jump. Bloody Mary snickers at the sight— perpetrator, that's her. Oh, she must be getting good at this. Even past the slushy ground, she can squeak out a surprise. If it all ended here... she'd be plenty happy. Could trot right on home knowing she's seen a cat with eyes like slashed skin. Knowing she made 'em jump too. Somethin' like this, that looked as if another cat should do the jumping for her, really...

It doesn't end there, though. She's plenty pleased; huffs a steaming breath from her nose. The brute doesn't mind herself much, really... She knew she was big, knew she was bleached, knew something about her looked funny... And this one agrees it seems, the way she laughed... Though she didn't call her freak the way that other had. Not demon, no, nothin' like that... Mary giggles too, of course. It sounds real ugly compared to hers. Not like she cares much. "Oh, flatterer. Haven't even had my first yet, hehe. " She anticipates the taste. Has anticipated her whole life, it feels...

She's looked at her too, clearly. This one thinks herself okay to do the same— not like she would've done anything else, had her swan friend said anything different... Spotless really. What she knows of the wildcats continues to twist... She doesn't think the forest itself could conjure eyes like this. And every other clan... the ones that didn't let stray kitties into their ranks; they must be wilder than wild, surely? Oh, she's more intent than she's ever been. As ever, her spine curves. Set in a loom, she teeters closer to the cliff... She thinks to pick her apart; wonders if she'd bleed pink instead of red.

The wolf sees what the swan sees, and both sets of eyes sweep down toward her paw. Hound's ears prick to her word. The whole of her reacts, actually. Yeah— she finds those eyes again with a quickness. Sudden rush of blood makes them wide. " Oh. " Certainly a wildcat, she saw it now... The soft-spoken promise makes her claws itch in their sheathes. There's an exhale of breath, doglike in nature... Again, she giggles. " Heheh— Bet it'd be real easy for you... " she rumbles. She sees it in the blood center of her eyes... Knows that even if she was spotless now, she certainly wouldn't look bad with 'em.

She'd like to be proven right, really... Nearly, she doesn't move. But— SkyClan, uh... they wouldn't like it. Yeah, not at all, she could bet just as well... She couldn't squander her name before she had it... Real thoughtful, that's her. Today, she'll listen.

She knows what she is... If not now, she'll know soon. " Nearly thought I'd found somethin' else on accident... " aloud, she muses. " You're wildcat, though. It's obvious, now... " Up and down, she glimpses her. " S'all of ThunderClan like you, huh? "

THEY SAY I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM TRYING ⬪ 𝒜 𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒩 𝒮𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯 / ( 12 . 05 )

• OOC.

• 
  BLOODY MARY ⬪ DAYLIGHT APPRENTICE. SHE - HER - HERS.
  

  A dog-like woman. Large, with bulk in some places, and only lean muscle in others. Elegant at some angles, acutely strange looking at others. Has a longer, wolfish muzzle and gleaming dog teeth near-always on display due to an overbite. Skull presses insistent against her skin. Eyes are almost too - large, and not all sunken in her skull. Has large, tufted ears. Polydactyl, with a curved spine and recently-chopped tail.

​