09-29-2020, 08:57 PM
give my all just to watch you fall
Ischia has been a fucking delight.
Titanya creeps through the dense undergrowth, relishing the silky feel of the banana leaves on her orange and black fur. Her luminous yellow eyes are trained on a small flock of parrots that are earthbound on the jungle dirt, sheltering from the late spring storm. They do this sometimes; strut around on the ground like they own the place, like they are the kings and queens of the island, like they are safe. Aside from those in the ocean, there aren’t any other predators they have to worry about on this spit of land. No other predators besides the tiger amongst the trees, that is. The tiger that is hungry and ruthless and bored.
She leaps at the brightly colored birds with her claws outstretched. She’s already salivating, already tasting the avian meat she’ll have to pull from a puff of feathers. Most of the flock pushes into the air immediately, their plumage like jewels glittering in the air. But one bird, perhaps an elder in their ranks, has a bum wing. It looks like something has already hunted this one with his ripped and tattered feathers. “Have we met?” She says between gritted teeth, swatting at the parrot’s slow rise. It squawks at her noisily in reply.
In the next moment, she knows her jaws will close around the old bird’s hasty back end. He’s slow, so slow to flap out of reach! But just as the tigress feels the tip of his tail feathers brush her nose, something collides with her head. Titanya blinks away her confusion as she sees another parrot gliding away into the trees. And with a sinking heart, she turns to see her target ungainly flapping off to some safer perch as well. She swings her head back at the almost invisible speck of the attacking bird who saved his buddy from certain doom. “He may have been your friend but he was my breakfast!” She shakes off the tiger skin and sulks off towards the beach, hoping to fill her belly with some seagrass. It doesn’t compare to warm, fresh meat, but it will have to do this time. Next time she’ll get the little birdy bastard.
The sandy stretch of shoreline is oh-so-dull in her opinion. Like sea oats to parrot meat, it doesn’t compare to the earthy, humid jungle that she so prefers. The crashing waves are uninspired when an entire universe exists within a square foot of jungle dirt. Her amber eyes turn to the work at hoof: breakfast. She moves closer to the forest’s edge as she becomes fuller, intending to dive back into the trees as soon as she possibly can. As she’s munching on the driest, worst food to ever grace her mouth, she tries to ignore the pull to move on from Ischia.
Her feet are not used to staying in one place, and while this place has suited her more than most, she’s loath to get too attached. She has no idea that her blood helped raise this island. It wouldn’t really matter even if she did know; she had been the black sheep of the family and she doubts any of them have ever come looking for her. All that mattered was her brother and his bones are now bleaching pale on some other beach far away. All that matters now is that she stays true to herself. Herself, and the seal of war that thrums madly alongside her own heart.
There’s dual sound coming from just inside the trees now. Voices, neither Aquaria nor Halcyon. New blood, then. “I wake with the sun,” she says in response, her words working around a last bite of sea grass, her gaze resting on the older male and then the younger female in turn. “Hunting is better when the animals are still rubbing sleep from their own eyes.” She fails to mention her own hunting fail from this morning. That is obviously not important. What’s more distressing is how enthusiastic this greeting is. “Who are you guys, the daybreak committee?”
Titanya creeps through the dense undergrowth, relishing the silky feel of the banana leaves on her orange and black fur. Her luminous yellow eyes are trained on a small flock of parrots that are earthbound on the jungle dirt, sheltering from the late spring storm. They do this sometimes; strut around on the ground like they own the place, like they are the kings and queens of the island, like they are safe. Aside from those in the ocean, there aren’t any other predators they have to worry about on this spit of land. No other predators besides the tiger amongst the trees, that is. The tiger that is hungry and ruthless and bored.
She leaps at the brightly colored birds with her claws outstretched. She’s already salivating, already tasting the avian meat she’ll have to pull from a puff of feathers. Most of the flock pushes into the air immediately, their plumage like jewels glittering in the air. But one bird, perhaps an elder in their ranks, has a bum wing. It looks like something has already hunted this one with his ripped and tattered feathers. “Have we met?” She says between gritted teeth, swatting at the parrot’s slow rise. It squawks at her noisily in reply.
In the next moment, she knows her jaws will close around the old bird’s hasty back end. He’s slow, so slow to flap out of reach! But just as the tigress feels the tip of his tail feathers brush her nose, something collides with her head. Titanya blinks away her confusion as she sees another parrot gliding away into the trees. And with a sinking heart, she turns to see her target ungainly flapping off to some safer perch as well. She swings her head back at the almost invisible speck of the attacking bird who saved his buddy from certain doom. “He may have been your friend but he was my breakfast!” She shakes off the tiger skin and sulks off towards the beach, hoping to fill her belly with some seagrass. It doesn’t compare to warm, fresh meat, but it will have to do this time. Next time she’ll get the little birdy bastard.
The sandy stretch of shoreline is oh-so-dull in her opinion. Like sea oats to parrot meat, it doesn’t compare to the earthy, humid jungle that she so prefers. The crashing waves are uninspired when an entire universe exists within a square foot of jungle dirt. Her amber eyes turn to the work at hoof: breakfast. She moves closer to the forest’s edge as she becomes fuller, intending to dive back into the trees as soon as she possibly can. As she’s munching on the driest, worst food to ever grace her mouth, she tries to ignore the pull to move on from Ischia.
Her feet are not used to staying in one place, and while this place has suited her more than most, she’s loath to get too attached. She has no idea that her blood helped raise this island. It wouldn’t really matter even if she did know; she had been the black sheep of the family and she doubts any of them have ever come looking for her. All that mattered was her brother and his bones are now bleaching pale on some other beach far away. All that matters now is that she stays true to herself. Herself, and the seal of war that thrums madly alongside her own heart.
There’s dual sound coming from just inside the trees now. Voices, neither Aquaria nor Halcyon. New blood, then. “I wake with the sun,” she says in response, her words working around a last bite of sea grass, her gaze resting on the older male and then the younger female in turn. “Hunting is better when the animals are still rubbing sleep from their own eyes.” She fails to mention her own hunting fail from this morning. That is obviously not important. What’s more distressing is how enthusiastic this greeting is. “Who are you guys, the daybreak committee?”
Titanya
@[Pteron]