11-25-2024, 10:36 PM
Mafdet yawns nervously as she eyes the large cat that’s just settled on a branch of the oak under which she shelters. The yawn reveals a mouthful of her own feline teeth, many times smaller than his own. The cat licks her lips and orange whiskers anxiously, and glances up to remind herself there’s no immediate danger. Time passes, and he is so quiet that she assumes he must have fallen asleep. She’s certain she can reach branches too high and small for the leopard quickly, and yet…
There’s a chance she might get wet that high up, and she’s just finished a lengthy effort to get herself so clean she actually glistens. She’s also still a bit uncomfortably full of the grouse from earlier, the same one whose feathers and grime she’d just so fastidiously rid herself of.
She should have left some of the bird, she thinks, then he might have eaten some and been in a better mood. That a good meal for her is a bite for him is a thought too rational for her usually quick mind, as flustered as she is. She’d meant to curl up behind the tall grass that grows at the mouth of a hollow log and sleep off her large meal with a wonderful nap, and now there’s a huge leopard hardly a jump away.
After a long moment of indecision - during which she looks between what she believes is a dozing leopard, her cozy napping spot, and the first sapling she might use to flee - Mafdet finally strolls forward as if she’d never hesitated at all. Her orange tail is held high, and if it’s perhaps fluffed out a bit with nerves, she is sure that she manages to otherwise look unconcerned. She keeps one colorpoint ear pointed at him so that he might know that she knows he is there, and is entirely unimpressed by the whole thing.
About halfway to the hollow log, and a few steps ahead of needing a secondary escape plan, Mafdet risks a quick glance up at him to assure herself he is still asleep.
@munroe
There’s a chance she might get wet that high up, and she’s just finished a lengthy effort to get herself so clean she actually glistens. She’s also still a bit uncomfortably full of the grouse from earlier, the same one whose feathers and grime she’d just so fastidiously rid herself of.
She should have left some of the bird, she thinks, then he might have eaten some and been in a better mood. That a good meal for her is a bite for him is a thought too rational for her usually quick mind, as flustered as she is. She’d meant to curl up behind the tall grass that grows at the mouth of a hollow log and sleep off her large meal with a wonderful nap, and now there’s a huge leopard hardly a jump away.
After a long moment of indecision - during which she looks between what she believes is a dozing leopard, her cozy napping spot, and the first sapling she might use to flee - Mafdet finally strolls forward as if she’d never hesitated at all. Her orange tail is held high, and if it’s perhaps fluffed out a bit with nerves, she is sure that she manages to otherwise look unconcerned. She keeps one colorpoint ear pointed at him so that he might know that she knows he is there, and is entirely unimpressed by the whole thing.
About halfway to the hollow log, and a few steps ahead of needing a secondary escape plan, Mafdet risks a quick glance up at him to assure herself he is still asleep.
@munroe