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* Are you still there?
* ...
* Do you remember yet?
* No.
* Please keep speaking to me.
There's a beast. It invades their territory, stepping through the marsh with its large paws, long, sharp claws connected to them. It lifts its head, sniffing at the air and opening its mouth filled with ferocious teeth. It leads on a trail, silently, focused on its work. There's a beast and he is hungry.
How the Siberian tiger wound up within their territory would be a mystery to the members, and is irrelevant to him. He wandered in here, in search of food. He is aware of the scent marker, but he does not find himself caring enough to bother with it. The male knows he has experienced groups in the past, when he was different, and he can take enough from those memories to comprehend how to deal with the groups. If it was really necessary, he would force himself to join. It does not make a difference to him. He could leave whenever he wanted, but he can pick up from his memories that being a part of a group does mean free food. Speaking is not easy, but he will find a way. He performed it so easily before, after all.
But, this idea of aligning within whoever's territory he may be in right now is not at all at the top of his priorities. He came here for food, and he intends to get it. It is not easy to stalk his prey in these wetlands, but thankfully he can rely on his speed and size. His paws sink into the muddy ground quietly, gaze locked onto a rabbit in the distance, moving slowly, creeping near it. Its ears swivel in his direction, head held up alert, and this is when he takes the opportunity to lunge. His paws leap towards it, strong legs pushing him in the direction of the running prey.
However, when he lands, he finds that they are both within some sort of trap. The tiger snaps his jaws around the rabbit, attempting to pull them out, front paws tangled within the net. He lets out a snarl, thrashing around. His tail flicks back and forth rapidly, claws wiggling around as he tries to get out, only tangling himself further. He lets out a roar, struggling within the trap.
* ...
* Do you remember yet?
* No.
* Please keep speaking to me.
There's a beast. It invades their territory, stepping through the marsh with its large paws, long, sharp claws connected to them. It lifts its head, sniffing at the air and opening its mouth filled with ferocious teeth. It leads on a trail, silently, focused on its work. There's a beast and he is hungry.
How the Siberian tiger wound up within their territory would be a mystery to the members, and is irrelevant to him. He wandered in here, in search of food. He is aware of the scent marker, but he does not find himself caring enough to bother with it. The male knows he has experienced groups in the past, when he was different, and he can take enough from those memories to comprehend how to deal with the groups. If it was really necessary, he would force himself to join. It does not make a difference to him. He could leave whenever he wanted, but he can pick up from his memories that being a part of a group does mean free food. Speaking is not easy, but he will find a way. He performed it so easily before, after all.
But, this idea of aligning within whoever's territory he may be in right now is not at all at the top of his priorities. He came here for food, and he intends to get it. It is not easy to stalk his prey in these wetlands, but thankfully he can rely on his speed and size. His paws sink into the muddy ground quietly, gaze locked onto a rabbit in the distance, moving slowly, creeping near it. Its ears swivel in his direction, head held up alert, and this is when he takes the opportunity to lunge. His paws leap towards it, strong legs pushing him in the direction of the running prey.
However, when he lands, he finds that they are both within some sort of trap. The tiger snaps his jaws around the rabbit, attempting to pull them out, front paws tangled within the net. He lets out a snarl, thrashing around. His tail flicks back and forth rapidly, claws wiggling around as he tries to get out, only tangling himself further. He lets out a roar, struggling within the trap.
[div style="width: 70%;font-family: georgia;font-size: 14px;color: #hexcode;line-height:110%;text-align: center;;"]he / him — characters — premades — open to pm
![[Image: EDRc2RM.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/EDRc2RM.gif)