08-25-2017, 08:37 AM
As soon as he spots her, Mafdet backs away, disappearing from view behind the protection of the log.
He’s coming closer, her twitching orange ears tells her, but he does not crest the wodden barrier. Instead, she hears the rustle of flattening grass that suggests he’s stopped and laid down. Indomitable curiosity has her creeping forward again, and soon her soft blue eyes are peering over the fallen tree.
There.
Even with her paws propped on the log, she’s still only eye level with the large cat. He’s far larger than any feline she’s ever seen before, which is saying something. Mafdet is no tiny kitten herself; her kind hail from the northern forests where large size and plush fur serve as protection from the bitter winters. She weighs at least 15 pounds and is at least two feet long from the tip of her perfect pink nose to the base of her bushy peach tail.
“Where is the rest of your fur?” She asks him without preamble. He must know, she reasons – he is distressingly bald everywhere but the ruff of his neck. Perhaps he is ill, Mafdet muses, though there is no dullness in his amber eyes or trembling of his muscle. Intrigued – but only mildly empathetic – she leaps to the top of the log with one fluid movement. She cranes her neck up and over, confirming that he is, indeed, missing most of his hair.
There is an odd tuft at the end of his long tail, and the way it flicks makes her consider leaping for it. She doesn’t though, and instead looks back to his too-large face.
“I’m Mafdet.” She tells him.
ooc: yes yes, totally fine
He’s coming closer, her twitching orange ears tells her, but he does not crest the wodden barrier. Instead, she hears the rustle of flattening grass that suggests he’s stopped and laid down. Indomitable curiosity has her creeping forward again, and soon her soft blue eyes are peering over the fallen tree.
There.
Even with her paws propped on the log, she’s still only eye level with the large cat. He’s far larger than any feline she’s ever seen before, which is saying something. Mafdet is no tiny kitten herself; her kind hail from the northern forests where large size and plush fur serve as protection from the bitter winters. She weighs at least 15 pounds and is at least two feet long from the tip of her perfect pink nose to the base of her bushy peach tail.
“Where is the rest of your fur?” She asks him without preamble. He must know, she reasons – he is distressingly bald everywhere but the ruff of his neck. Perhaps he is ill, Mafdet muses, though there is no dullness in his amber eyes or trembling of his muscle. Intrigued – but only mildly empathetic – she leaps to the top of the log with one fluid movement. She cranes her neck up and over, confirming that he is, indeed, missing most of his hair.
There is an odd tuft at the end of his long tail, and the way it flicks makes her consider leaping for it. She doesn’t though, and instead looks back to his too-large face.
“I’m Mafdet.” She tells him.
ooc: yes yes, totally fine