- Feb 14, 2023
- 17
- 14
- 3
The ground here is clammy. Not the tasty type of clammy. It's all sticky and soggy, and it cakes the undersides of his paws with a fine grit. Worse, the residual muck acts like an adhesive, and soon a whole variety smaller entities cling to his feet.
'Pleasant' isn't a word he would use to describe the feeling, but jabbing pine needles are not to blame for the dour look vexing his face. There are heavier things weighing on his mind right now. Fate has plucked the orange kitty from his comfortable life, showing next to no mercy as it flung him into unfamiliar territory. He wishes for the hamlet's paved pathways, yet walks the forest floor by reason of necessity. All that keeps him going is a weak resonance of hope somewhere in his subconscious.
He dare not tread any further. Those who reside outside of the hamlet are known to be insular. A hefty portion of Shrimpy Boy's friends shared stories about their hostility towards cats who 'chose' the life of a pet. It is for this reason that he picks a nice and open spot, planting his ample rump on a patch of turf sandwiched by two pine trees.
Wayward eyes would spot a stout ginger tom, with shoulders hunched and his head dipped somewhat. Any experienced face-readers would find his dejected expression to be awkward, or perhaps uncharacteristic of his features.
'Pleasant' isn't a word he would use to describe the feeling, but jabbing pine needles are not to blame for the dour look vexing his face. There are heavier things weighing on his mind right now. Fate has plucked the orange kitty from his comfortable life, showing next to no mercy as it flung him into unfamiliar territory. He wishes for the hamlet's paved pathways, yet walks the forest floor by reason of necessity. All that keeps him going is a weak resonance of hope somewhere in his subconscious.
He dare not tread any further. Those who reside outside of the hamlet are known to be insular. A hefty portion of Shrimpy Boy's friends shared stories about their hostility towards cats who 'chose' the life of a pet. It is for this reason that he picks a nice and open spot, planting his ample rump on a patch of turf sandwiched by two pine trees.
Wayward eyes would spot a stout ginger tom, with shoulders hunched and his head dipped somewhat. Any experienced face-readers would find his dejected expression to be awkward, or perhaps uncharacteristic of his features.