07-30-2019, 06:40 PM
FOURTHWALL FALLOUT
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
It was the scent of a frantic, desperate something that had drawn him in, like a shark to blood in the water. He followed the trail left by them, and it was easy to follow. They seemed to have just been running blindly, as if being chased. But there was no scent here aside from the intruders, a large male feline from what he could tell. Swift, eager steps carried the massive wolf-lion hybrid, the chance to fight and defend his home or to at the very least, satisfy his bordom by confronting this person, driving him onward. The Pitt had been too quiet lately, and the black and gold mottled creature was quick to come upon the scene of Bai Shi freeing the tiger from his binds.
"Pick up a stray, Bai Shi?" he would ask, wine red eyes settling on the large but severely underfed cat she was standing with. Jervis hadn't been to kind toward newcomers lately, and so the beast wasn't going to go making friends with anyone prematurely. Still, he would take what he could from the encounter, be it some words or a fight, He didn't care. Interaction was interaction, be it negative or positive.
With an almost feline-like flick of his canine tail he would come to stand beside the shecat, muscles relaxed beneath a scar strewn coat. He was a fighter, a killer, but he didn't boast these things in snide jeers or bravado. No. Fourth was a doer, a male who acted when he wanted to - usually severely- and remained otherwise casual and aloof the rest of the time. Like now. "Has he said what he was running from?" he asked his fellow Pittian, though his gaze was busy studying the other. Their coloring was odd and their neck and muzzle were raw in the areas the metal had rubbed them. He was large for a tiger with unusually striped fur, but he was half starved and his coat luckluster. Someone had obviously been keeping him as a prisoner, and Fourth coukldn't help but wonder why.
What was most strange though, was that the obvious prisoner lacked any clan scent. Whoever had been keeping him locked up and starving was a loner or a group that existed outside of the typical groups. Fun.
"SPEECH
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
It was the scent of a frantic, desperate something that had drawn him in, like a shark to blood in the water. He followed the trail left by them, and it was easy to follow. They seemed to have just been running blindly, as if being chased. But there was no scent here aside from the intruders, a large male feline from what he could tell. Swift, eager steps carried the massive wolf-lion hybrid, the chance to fight and defend his home or to at the very least, satisfy his bordom by confronting this person, driving him onward. The Pitt had been too quiet lately, and the black and gold mottled creature was quick to come upon the scene of Bai Shi freeing the tiger from his binds.
"Pick up a stray, Bai Shi?" he would ask, wine red eyes settling on the large but severely underfed cat she was standing with. Jervis hadn't been to kind toward newcomers lately, and so the beast wasn't going to go making friends with anyone prematurely. Still, he would take what he could from the encounter, be it some words or a fight, He didn't care. Interaction was interaction, be it negative or positive.
With an almost feline-like flick of his canine tail he would come to stand beside the shecat, muscles relaxed beneath a scar strewn coat. He was a fighter, a killer, but he didn't boast these things in snide jeers or bravado. No. Fourth was a doer, a male who acted when he wanted to - usually severely- and remained otherwise casual and aloof the rest of the time. Like now. "Has he said what he was running from?" he asked his fellow Pittian, though his gaze was busy studying the other. Their coloring was odd and their neck and muzzle were raw in the areas the metal had rubbed them. He was large for a tiger with unusually striped fur, but he was half starved and his coat luckluster. Someone had obviously been keeping him as a prisoner, and Fourth coukldn't help but wonder why.
What was most strange though, was that the obvious prisoner lacked any clan scent. Whoever had been keeping him locked up and starving was a loner or a group that existed outside of the typical groups. Fun.
"SPEECH
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Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt