★ -- Clicking is a call to attention. A means to rapture their target. All her short little life, all she has ever known is her guttur language and the strange babblings of the unique creatures that swell upon the island.
There is a barrier between them and the others-- a hole within the seams of communication and the stitches of speech. Exodus does not know it exists.
The utahraptor had almost forgotten that there are those can speak her language. As strange as it was. It was not impossible. She has witnessed Typhooners guide her attention with their tongue and their body language. She knows their game well.
Exodus isn't sure what to make of the low noise rumbling from the cheetah. Akin to a feline, yet slim in all the ways the domestic cats were not, and far taller. Marcellus seemed to stretch endlessly over the youth, towering and suddenly vying for her attention with familiar undulations of the tongue. Exodus isn't sure what to make of it.
The din of clicking rouses within her ear cavities. What does this strange beast want from her? He speaks her language. Others have before however. They know her tongue. Exodus ponders.
Friend or foe. Friend or...
Virgo, her alpha hisses quietly before her. No longer wreathed by earthy hues, but a hint of white and gold. Immediately, Exodus feels envious. For the pure color that strokes her sister's skin, like an egghell's carapace. Much unlike Exodus, who has barely changed from her molting. Would she too, grow into the ivory color of her sister? Only time would tell.
Virgo is not happy, and it takes no amount of brain power to tell so.
Virgo is their ruler. Lording over the siblings. Whatever Virgo is unhappy at, Exodus should be unpleased with as well. But she cannot bring herself to muster up the vehemenance that lingers upon her sibling's maw.
Exodus remembers the new challenger vividly. This one's legs had served as a chewing post to her nubby teeth in the past. But his attentions are focused upon Virgo. The child cocks her head almost mechanically, unsure of the situation within that moment, and aching to soothe her worries with a good little bite. Gauge if they were worthy of her undivided attention.
They wanted her scrutiny, they could have it.
With a sudden, frenzied leap, the child aimed to descend upon Marcellus's tagged leg.
A mischievous little cry left her lips (one that could be mistaken for meaningless screech), and she'd aim the first bite for the metal tag wrapped around his limb.
It was hard and cold-- hard like mother's scales and maybe just as resilient if not more. The second nibble was aimed higher-- up an area where it was not defended by strange accessories.
When in doubt, biting never failed!
There is a barrier between them and the others-- a hole within the seams of communication and the stitches of speech. Exodus does not know it exists.
The utahraptor had almost forgotten that there are those can speak her language. As strange as it was. It was not impossible. She has witnessed Typhooners guide her attention with their tongue and their body language. She knows their game well.
Exodus isn't sure what to make of the low noise rumbling from the cheetah. Akin to a feline, yet slim in all the ways the domestic cats were not, and far taller. Marcellus seemed to stretch endlessly over the youth, towering and suddenly vying for her attention with familiar undulations of the tongue. Exodus isn't sure what to make of it.
The din of clicking rouses within her ear cavities. What does this strange beast want from her? He speaks her language. Others have before however. They know her tongue. Exodus ponders.
Friend or foe. Friend or...
Virgo, her alpha hisses quietly before her. No longer wreathed by earthy hues, but a hint of white and gold. Immediately, Exodus feels envious. For the pure color that strokes her sister's skin, like an egghell's carapace. Much unlike Exodus, who has barely changed from her molting. Would she too, grow into the ivory color of her sister? Only time would tell.
Virgo is not happy, and it takes no amount of brain power to tell so.
Virgo is their ruler. Lording over the siblings. Whatever Virgo is unhappy at, Exodus should be unpleased with as well. But she cannot bring herself to muster up the vehemenance that lingers upon her sibling's maw.
Exodus remembers the new challenger vividly. This one's legs had served as a chewing post to her nubby teeth in the past. But his attentions are focused upon Virgo. The child cocks her head almost mechanically, unsure of the situation within that moment, and aching to soothe her worries with a good little bite. Gauge if they were worthy of her undivided attention.
They wanted her scrutiny, they could have it.
With a sudden, frenzied leap, the child aimed to descend upon Marcellus's tagged leg.
A mischievous little cry left her lips (one that could be mistaken for meaningless screech), and she'd aim the first bite for the metal tag wrapped around his limb.
It was hard and cold-- hard like mother's scales and maybe just as resilient if not more. The second nibble was aimed higher-- up an area where it was not defended by strange accessories.
When in doubt, biting never failed!
im like a bull in a china shop
knocking off a knock off .
"cause i got no culture of mine" — exodus — typhoon — feathered raptor — info