08-27-2018, 10:56 PM
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(i apologize for the late response. classes just started and it's been crazy)
Ironic, is it not? How the watchers are always being watched by another?
Silence envelopes the huntress in a thick blanket, smothering all sound so that it is little more than muted breaths and the droning buzz of mosquitoes who lurk near the precious sources of water. Contrary to the invader's belief, someone had spotted her. Someone whose primary responsibility is to see all that others wish to remain unseen. And unlike the intruder, this someone does not rely upon emerald broad leafed plants to conceal her presence.
Tawny golden fur blend effortlessly into the blinding expanse of of shifting sands, sunlight refracting off of the rolling dunes in mind-boggling mirages. Melantha has been following this stranger for several minutes now, sagacious olive eyes having spotted the little blue blob making it's way through the desert as she returned from a morning patrol. Perhaps the strong arm should have apprehended the unknown female a long while ago, but the young puma is bored and she is curious to see where the creature intends to go. She recognizes the other from when the Rosebloods came knocking, though she cannot remember the name for the life of her. Whatever the cause may be, Mel assumes that the stranger does not come with good intentions.
A lengthy residence within the Pitt allows Melantha to maneuver the unstable terrain with ease, careful to stalk her prey from downwind, never losing sight. The golden wildcat watches as the other conceals herself within the jungle oasis, following silently. Several moments pass before Mel decides to make herself known. "What's a Roseblood doing all the way out all on her lonesome?" questions the predator in that deep, rasping voice of hers; brilliant green eyes peering through the leaves. Ever so casually, the young mountain lioness circles the domestic feline. Plain features arrange themselves into a neutral stare, only a touch of curiosity gleaming within those perceptive olive pools.
Ironic, is it not? How the watchers are always being watched by another?
Silence envelopes the huntress in a thick blanket, smothering all sound so that it is little more than muted breaths and the droning buzz of mosquitoes who lurk near the precious sources of water. Contrary to the invader's belief, someone had spotted her. Someone whose primary responsibility is to see all that others wish to remain unseen. And unlike the intruder, this someone does not rely upon emerald broad leafed plants to conceal her presence.
Tawny golden fur blend effortlessly into the blinding expanse of of shifting sands, sunlight refracting off of the rolling dunes in mind-boggling mirages. Melantha has been following this stranger for several minutes now, sagacious olive eyes having spotted the little blue blob making it's way through the desert as she returned from a morning patrol. Perhaps the strong arm should have apprehended the unknown female a long while ago, but the young puma is bored and she is curious to see where the creature intends to go. She recognizes the other from when the Rosebloods came knocking, though she cannot remember the name for the life of her. Whatever the cause may be, Mel assumes that the stranger does not come with good intentions.
A lengthy residence within the Pitt allows Melantha to maneuver the unstable terrain with ease, careful to stalk her prey from downwind, never losing sight. The golden wildcat watches as the other conceals herself within the jungle oasis, following silently. Several moments pass before Mel decides to make herself known. "What's a Roseblood doing all the way out all on her lonesome?" questions the predator in that deep, rasping voice of hers; brilliant green eyes peering through the leaves. Ever so casually, the young mountain lioness circles the domestic feline. Plain features arrange themselves into a neutral stare, only a touch of curiosity gleaming within those perceptive olive pools.