07-01-2018, 07:53 AM
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As she followed her invisible line, the ocelot found herself growing steadily bolder - the territory smelled wet with jungle humidity and her ears filled with the sounds of life. She found herself liking this place, even if she didn't know much at all about the inhabitants that lived there. Her father never took time to mention how pirate life functioned in this place, only mentioning his own brother and her half-brother as crewmates. Even then, details were still scarce, as she could only really rely on her scarce encounters with Pincher as truthful. Her father didn't like to tell her too much truth, after all.
Paws itching to explore, she flexed her claws as she looked up and straightened her posture. She caught the smell of some practically delicious-smelling prey, but she could also see the silhouette of whoever she was tailing. Putting a pin in her hunting drive, the slender wildcat continued forward, her hunting crouch abandoned for the more practical quick walk now that her confidence grew.
The silhouette gradually deepened in detail, as the sunlight reflected off the waters to illuminate the figure despite the jungle shade. The obsidian form, darker and taller than her own, instantly brought up memories - as only one of the Roux family clan willingly lived as a canine. "Pincher!" she called out, seconds before she attempted to leap on top of him in a friendly sibling tackle. She, at ten months old, still acted more like an adolescent than a sub-adult, and her enthusiastic greeting certainly demonstrated the more reckless enthusiasm of her childhood days.
Paws itching to explore, she flexed her claws as she looked up and straightened her posture. She caught the smell of some practically delicious-smelling prey, but she could also see the silhouette of whoever she was tailing. Putting a pin in her hunting drive, the slender wildcat continued forward, her hunting crouch abandoned for the more practical quick walk now that her confidence grew.
The silhouette gradually deepened in detail, as the sunlight reflected off the waters to illuminate the figure despite the jungle shade. The obsidian form, darker and taller than her own, instantly brought up memories - as only one of the Roux family clan willingly lived as a canine. "Pincher!" she called out, seconds before she attempted to leap on top of him in a friendly sibling tackle. She, at ten months old, still acted more like an adolescent than a sub-adult, and her enthusiastic greeting certainly demonstrated the more reckless enthusiasm of her childhood days.
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?