Party Packs | Sherbet ; open | hangover

[SHERBET]

NEW TAB: sherbet - male - feline - tags - typhoon

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Sherbet knew, he knew, he smelled like alcohol, that he overdid it the night before. He didn't need the people he didn't know coming up to him going "Hey, you look like you drank, are you okay?" He grumbled uncharacteristically as he roughly sat on the nearby beach, sand sticking to his perpetually melting visage. Shoulders slumped, the tabby began to groom his paws to pass time. His hangover wasn't going to improve any, but he could at least make sure others didn't have to deal with his bullshit attitude from it.

[Keokie Flokie]

Keokie had been looking for a minute. His form would look all through bushes and brambles, up in trees as far as he could go and he swore he looked all throughout camp. "Has anyone seen dad?" He would ask with shrugs cast his way.

To him it was important that he speak with his dad.

Really, it was just a fish and maybe thats why people weren't trying to look for sherbet, the brown feline would be dragging this stick with him in excitement. Nearly bouncing on outstretched toe tips.

But the reason of this fish and urge to find his dad was that, one it was the first one he'd had caught, and two, it was HUGE.

He was starting to get tired from dragging the fish, but finally, he would find his dad outstretched by the bubbling shore of the beach. A giggling would come from the child, his form ducking low and letting go of the fish.

Slowly, he creeped foreward, wiggled his butt, before leaping foreward on his father, loud giggling erupting from his jaws as he rolled over and held his chest from laughter. "I scared you! I know i did!"

He didn't see anything wrong with Sherbet, though he didn't look he best, he looked mighty strong as per usual.

"Look what i caught, dad! A big fish! Can you believe it? My first prey!"

[SHERBET]

NEW TAB: sherbet - male - feline - tags - typhoon

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Sherbet's ears had a very interesting moment of being undecided between flattening and staying erect as he jolted from his son pouncing on him. Wiping his sour expression off his face (making sure he didn't appear hungover), the tabby gingerly grinned at the younger, his head aching, "Hey, biscuit."

Tail swishing closer to brush the tail tip against Keokie's nose, "You gave me a right scare," he gave a rusty purr, "and you already are shaping up to be a fine hunter!" Sherbet playfully cuffed his son, fighting back a wince, "Why don't you sit and tell me about your day, and your hunt?"

The rainbow sherbet tabby was determined to try his best to he a good father. His siblings and his parents died early on, and anyone could tell the litter struggled considering one is unaccounted for, one he thinks is actually doing way better (and he's so proud of her), and there's Sherbet. The washed up, weed smoker, who makes blueprints and helps construction. His skills are not needed very much, he personally mourns. He has so many schematics, and so much passion, but the divide between what's needed and what's not is so big. There's a crushing amount of him wondering if he'll ever amount to anything.

He's given up smoking until his children are grown, he's keeping an open mind (he did before, and he definitely will for his kids), he's paying attention to his kids, he's giving them a living father, he re-learned how to hunt in the jungle and braves the sand to catch fish.

He'd do anything for his kits.

He'd do anything for them.