11-23-2018, 09:42 AM
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]Awful, disgusting sands. She can wholeheartedly agree with the young female, despising the dessert and dunes which bordered the jungle. Ugly, tainted, corrupted. While others were deterred away from The Pitt, Pan finds herself drawn to the group's solidarity, their intimidating nature. She may appear to be a pacifist but she has no particular qualms against violence or torture. Sometimes necessary evils had to be taken. Pan would rather play the villain than the hopeless hero. The serval's eyes scan a panorama of the landscape that stretches before her, the feline stalking the jungle quietly. There was recently a fire caused by The Typhoon, a band of pirates, in retaliation for The Pitt's actions. She finds it frustrating that the group had even had the idea of aggravating the island to begin with, not wishing to be caught within the midst of a conflict so early into her joining. The sight of smoke and ashes always makes her catch her breath, small lung capacity making the experience torture as the feline tries to pass through trees and low-growing vegetation to escape the thick, curling smell. The dark-furred fem finds herself moving out into the dessert once more, trying to kill two birds with one stone. As she leaves the smokey area, she will continue her attempts in getting used to the heated environment around her.
She notices the scent of seawater, a salty smell that lingers and stays long enough for the girl to follow. Indifference wavers over her but curiosity blooms, paws beginning to shuffle through the sands before she follows the border, ghosting behind Goldenluxury. There is no aggression that lingers in the female but she hears a call before noticing the smell of paint. Her ears twitch, hurrying to the scene to notice Caesar looking bemusedly at Stryker who is dripping with purple paint. It doesn't suit him, it isn't his colour. But Pan doesn't voice her opinions, preferring to keep it to herself. "I can wash it off with rain," she offers but one can easily see the way a smile is beginning to creep towards one cheek, pushing it aside as she looks at the miserable appearance. Her nose twitches when she looks over across the border again, sniffing quietly. To be honest, she doesn't understand why the girl had put so much effort to pour a bucket of paint over the ardent. It seems like wasted energy, a petty and unnecessary move. She isn't fond of pettiness but considering it wasn't directed towards herself or anyone she particularly cared about, Pan finds a little entertainment in Stryker's misfortune. "Who was she?"
She notices the scent of seawater, a salty smell that lingers and stays long enough for the girl to follow. Indifference wavers over her but curiosity blooms, paws beginning to shuffle through the sands before she follows the border, ghosting behind Goldenluxury. There is no aggression that lingers in the female but she hears a call before noticing the smell of paint. Her ears twitch, hurrying to the scene to notice Caesar looking bemusedly at Stryker who is dripping with purple paint. It doesn't suit him, it isn't his colour. But Pan doesn't voice her opinions, preferring to keep it to herself. "I can wash it off with rain," she offers but one can easily see the way a smile is beginning to creep towards one cheek, pushing it aside as she looks at the miserable appearance. Her nose twitches when she looks over across the border again, sniffing quietly. To be honest, she doesn't understand why the girl had put so much effort to pour a bucket of paint over the ardent. It seems like wasted energy, a petty and unnecessary move. She isn't fond of pettiness but considering it wasn't directed towards herself or anyone she particularly cared about, Pan finds a little entertainment in Stryker's misfortune. "Who was she?"