08-20-2018, 11:56 PM
/oof didn't realize the site deleted my original reply whoops
Jericho is clearly the sporty type — with his tiny, weak frame and lack of eyesight or a right hind leg, he's in near perfect athletic form. Of course, none of that's true (except the physical description); the little tabby has never been anything even close to resembling a jock. He's alright with that, though — it's not as if he's terribly competitive either. Jericho would much rather be a mediator, not a challenger. The call reaches his ears just as he's padding across the beach towards the greenhouse once more, carried forth on the gentle summer breeze. He's not sure why it piques his interest, but he finds his paws carrying him towards the Hearthkeeper and her setup. The sands crunch softly beneath his pawsteps with each movement, his uneven gait eventually moving him closer until he has joined the duo beneath the sun.
The ginger tabby, his fur warm and bathed in a layer of gold cast by the heaven's rays, finds himself taking a seat a few paces back. He cannot see the setup, but he just assumes the distance from where he senses Gordon and Monroe is adequate to not be hit by any stray balls. His tail curls across his white-tipped paws and eyes the hue of marigold lift to flicker between the two blindly, faintly amused by Gordon's apparent shocked tone. To be fair, Jericho himself isn't terribly familiar with volleyball, but it's also been established that he isn't very familiar with sports in general. "Ah, I-I'll just... observe," he speaks up after settling in, offering a dip of his head and a soft smile. Hopefully there'll be no reason for him to assume that anyone would get injured, but in case there are any sudden sport-related emergencies, at least the Divine will be standing by.
Jericho is clearly the sporty type — with his tiny, weak frame and lack of eyesight or a right hind leg, he's in near perfect athletic form. Of course, none of that's true (except the physical description); the little tabby has never been anything even close to resembling a jock. He's alright with that, though — it's not as if he's terribly competitive either. Jericho would much rather be a mediator, not a challenger. The call reaches his ears just as he's padding across the beach towards the greenhouse once more, carried forth on the gentle summer breeze. He's not sure why it piques his interest, but he finds his paws carrying him towards the Hearthkeeper and her setup. The sands crunch softly beneath his pawsteps with each movement, his uneven gait eventually moving him closer until he has joined the duo beneath the sun.
The ginger tabby, his fur warm and bathed in a layer of gold cast by the heaven's rays, finds himself taking a seat a few paces back. He cannot see the setup, but he just assumes the distance from where he senses Gordon and Monroe is adequate to not be hit by any stray balls. His tail curls across his white-tipped paws and eyes the hue of marigold lift to flicker between the two blindly, faintly amused by Gordon's apparent shocked tone. To be fair, Jericho himself isn't terribly familiar with volleyball, but it's also been established that he isn't very familiar with sports in general. "Ah, I-I'll just... observe," he speaks up after settling in, offering a dip of his head and a soft smile. Hopefully there'll be no reason for him to assume that anyone would get injured, but in case there are any sudden sport-related emergencies, at least the Divine will be standing by.
![[Image: xh3YHjD.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/xh3YHjD.gif)