bad blood ; open, joining

[jericho]

Jericho has never seen Sunhaven's vibrant terrain; his eyes have never graced the mountains, springing forth with color and life, nor the beach town with all of its kaleidoscope houses bobbing and swaying gently with the ocean.  He never will — it's been so long since he first went blind that he only occasionally remembers that something is missing.  In other words, the little tabby has grown to love their land regardless; he loves all of its scents and sounds and tangible feelings.  Seaspray and honey-sweet nectar in the air,  the gentle crashing of wave against the shore and birds singing their blithesome songs, warm sand and cool, wooded boardwalk underpaw.  Entering the canopy and feeling the soft dirt, the sun's intense rays disappearing from his back and his pelt, aglow in a wash of liquid gold, fades back to a muted ginger.  All of these sensations... even if he cannot see this place, he knows it feels like home.  He hates to sound like the giant sop that he truly is, but Jericho knows that's what matters more.

The trees are not his favorite feature of Sunhaven's territory, but the forest is home to so many flowers and herbs that he often finds himself among them nevertheless.  Nor does he ever set out with the intention of stumbling upon joiners, and yet they always seem to find him.  An odd coincidence that is.  Jericho approaches the leopardess after having picked up her strange scent from afar; when he walks his gait, albeit gentle in the impression that it leaves against the earth, is lopsided and his too-large herb bag drags along the ground as he walks.  The closer he nears the more he hears muffled voices until he realizes that his clanmates have beaten him to the punch.  The little tabby arrives shortly after Monroe — after all, as leader he figures he ought to be there for anyone on the border as much as he can.  Honey-liked eyes, warm and mirthful, flicker about until they finally come to rest just left of Stellamaris.  He offers a smile, small in its polite reservedness, but a kind one yet.  "Ah, hello.  I'm J-Jericho," the Helion speaks up, having allowed the others their turns first, "I... think they've gotten the introduction down, but welcome to Sunhaven."  Regardless of whether they comes as a joiner, visitor, or otherwise, Jericho fully intends to be amiable.  He dips his head lightly and then falls silent in waiting for a reply.