life moves so fast ;; private

[purgatory]

[PIERCE]

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[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker

☀ — and till the end you're my very best friend

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//dude that mUSE

What defined "normal"? Was it the way you looked, the way you talked? Was it based off of what you ate, how you ate, where you lived? Who decided what was normal and what was not? It was no surprise that these were questions that had often plagued Pierce's mind as a boy, for he hadn't been like the other kids in the clan. He hadn't wanted to run and play with the others - he much preferred to keep to himself back then, to stay in his home or Riddler's library to paint and read. He had gone out to work around the clan, and that was it. He had been different, and perhaps, that was what had made him "abnormal". But wasn't everyone different? Wouldn't that make everyone abnormal, and therefore, everything was normal? It was a confusing idea, truthfully, and he didn't know what to think, but at this point, he didn't care. He was nearly two years old, for god's sake - he shouldn't be worried about childish matters like that, and for the most part, he wasn't. It was no big deal, either way, to him. People were people, and that was it.

Pierce would be telling quite a big lie if he claimed he knew his way around the Typhoon. He'd only been here, what, a week? Perhaps that was enough time for some, but he was still figuring everything out, and he hadn't had much of a  chance to scope out the territory. So, when he went out to hunt, he'd gotten a little... turned around. Not too badly, he promised himself, so he wouldn't panic, but he had no idea where he was. The slender tom glanced around, tail curling anxiously around his back leg. He couldn't be too far from their base, right? Or their border by Snowbound? Shit, shit, shit! Why hadn't he made a trail, or something? Just when he was about to sit down and probably have a mental breakdown, the sound of a bird chirping - and something mimicking it - reached his ears. Raising his head, Pierce fixed honey optics on the small grey feline and the bird they were following, a tiny smile finding its way to his lips.

"Cronas?" he spoke with a light laugh, following after the child and avian. "Hey, Cronas- what are you doing, kiddo?"

"speech"

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[purgatory]