Those inky crones circled.
Round and around and around. I watch them for awhile like that, with my head tipped back and my tail twitching back and forth, waiting to see if they’d be turn their backs on cowardice and make a dash for it. But they do not sadly. Sadly, because there’s little more than I love than a good bout and romp of catch the birdie. And don’t listen to them if they try to tell you otherwise - they actually love the attention and the little nibbles I give them when I pluck out their feathers one by one by one.
Instead of our wholesome family game today and being a flock of spoilsports, they perch atop a barren canopy in bickering observance, far too off for my capabilities to reach them. But they watch me and I watch them, coming to an impasse of sorts until wretched boredom finally makes me wheeze against the cold winter’s breath.
I rise and leave the evening’s kill to the beggars.
The rolling of my shoulders and the grand strides they take carry me beyond the clearing. The churning river sings somewhere up ahead, calling me to her with a flourishing chorus of gurgles and roars. It’s not often that I don’t obey her, not often at all, especially not when the gold of my glorious coat is stained and drenched in pinks and reds. I’ll wonder time and time again and marvel at how I’ve gotten blood into every little nook and cranny and crevice along my lithe body. It shouldn’t be possible, but what can I say? I’m just a very enthusiastic eater. Really though, I ought to tone it down some.
“Splish splash!” I purr eagerly in greeting, curling around her sloping edges with fluid, catty grace. Sinking my paws into the bed that she had laid, the cold bites earnestly at my toes and I suck in a sharp breath. It’s quite unexpected and oh so delightful. “River,” my sugar-sweet voice whispers just above the plane water, as if she were the keeper of all of my secrets, “Was that the correct way to say hello in Water language?”
@[Maugrim] tldr she looks like a blood stained cheetah and is talking to the river lol
Round and around and around. I watch them for awhile like that, with my head tipped back and my tail twitching back and forth, waiting to see if they’d be turn their backs on cowardice and make a dash for it. But they do not sadly. Sadly, because there’s little more than I love than a good bout and romp of catch the birdie. And don’t listen to them if they try to tell you otherwise - they actually love the attention and the little nibbles I give them when I pluck out their feathers one by one by one.
Instead of our wholesome family game today and being a flock of spoilsports, they perch atop a barren canopy in bickering observance, far too off for my capabilities to reach them. But they watch me and I watch them, coming to an impasse of sorts until wretched boredom finally makes me wheeze against the cold winter’s breath.
I rise and leave the evening’s kill to the beggars.
The rolling of my shoulders and the grand strides they take carry me beyond the clearing. The churning river sings somewhere up ahead, calling me to her with a flourishing chorus of gurgles and roars. It’s not often that I don’t obey her, not often at all, especially not when the gold of my glorious coat is stained and drenched in pinks and reds. I’ll wonder time and time again and marvel at how I’ve gotten blood into every little nook and cranny and crevice along my lithe body. It shouldn’t be possible, but what can I say? I’m just a very enthusiastic eater. Really though, I ought to tone it down some.
“Splish splash!” I purr eagerly in greeting, curling around her sloping edges with fluid, catty grace. Sinking my paws into the bed that she had laid, the cold bites earnestly at my toes and I suck in a sharp breath. It’s quite unexpected and oh so delightful. “River,” my sugar-sweet voice whispers just above the plane water, as if she were the keeper of all of my secrets, “Was that the correct way to say hello in Water language?”
@[Maugrim] tldr she looks like a blood stained cheetah and is talking to the river lol