EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack
the silence in the air told him more than enough about his surroundings. he'd left camp for the first time in days, but this time, this was a signal for those he had slowly been gathering around himself, for those who had approached him after the September meeting. inhaling, he padded forth, the domestic tom's pawprints easily swallowed back up by the boggy ground, the after-effects of the storm still ever present around them. the joys of living in a swamp - they took the brunt of the storm and absorbed all of that saltwater that the tropical storm had dropped upon their shores. but though the cleanup was among his top priority concerns, he also had this resting in his mind.
with nothing more than a flick of his tail, the luminary trailed from camp, keeping himself to a path that he knew the best, headed towards the junkyard. a place where he'd met a fellow blacksmith some time ago, before zjarr had brought his brood to tanglewood. licking his lips as he padded along, picking the murkiest path that he could, intent on dousing his own scent and keeping away from leaving his scent on his surroundings. ears swiveling, he waited for any sign of his ... wildcards candidates following him. tail flicking as he let it droop to drift on the water, he spotted a large puddle, more like a body of water, and approached it's edge. crouching down, he sniffed it for contamination, hesitating before plunging his body into it. shuddering at the cold water washing over his fur, he held the gasp he wanted to release, righting himself and surfacing slowly without much sound. he was pleased to find that his paws couldn't touch the bottom here, merely angling himself across the pond, relying on the water to hide his scent.
climbing out on the other side, the tom would shake himself faintly, crouching to creep through underbrush, headed onwards before breaking into a light jog. his back protested the movement, but he wouldn't give in this time, pushing on through the agony. he needed to move the muscles, get them used to extended use again. stretching out a cramping leg, the tom found himself before the junkyard in no time. looking back over his shoulder to the trees that tanglewood claimed as part of their territory, he grinned to himself and darted under the chain link fence with little issue. spotting the first car, he observed the state of the junkyard, launching himself into the piles of debris, rooting around until he was sure he'd left his re-emerging scent around the junkyard enough to confuse any tracker before finding one of the more stable vehicles and leaping up onto it, trotting across the hood to jump onto the roof and settle as flatly as he could on his belly to see if anyone would appear. he was testing those who were candidates, those who he wanted to promote to this rank. he wanted to see if they could surprise him.
A PRAYER COMMITTED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.
THE FLOWER BURNS