04-09-2018, 02:31 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; color: black; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"]( only the last paragraph is important! )
The smell in the air was putrid. The rotting and decaying nature of the swamp practically singed his nostrils, and the stench of the green algae was off-putting. He had started to really doubt his decision in coming here, but he then told himself that he hadn't come all this way for nothing. If the rest of the territory was in such a state, then perhaps the serval would choose to move on, but maybe this place held potential. After all, he just sought somewhere to lay his head and cultivate his ambitions. He needed somewhere safe for his "practices". It would be purely a waste of time if he didn't first attempt to join this.. clan. Yes, he had heard of these clans before. He had never been apart of one, as he had been raised away from them, but now he was an adult. He could venture wherever he pleased and he could join whichever clan he desired. It was all his choice, and nobody could make it for him.
Marvolo. It was a nonsense name, but a name nonetheless. His foster parents had bestowed it upon him at an early age, and it was all he had ever been known by. It was all that he had kept from when he fled that dreaded family, along with the memories, of course. He could still feel the sensations of scratches and bruises from his rowdy adopted siblings. He could still feel the swelling in the cavities of his chest, the hurt that he had felt whenever he was scolded. He could still feel the annoyance, and even the fury that bubbled within him for months and months. It was truly a miracle that he had managed to stay with them for so long.
The melanistic serval, carrying himself with a confident and determined gait, walked along the shore of the murky swamp. The black robe draped over his backside flowed in the breeze as he tried to detect a scent, a sound, a presence, anything. Trailing behind him — or slithering, more like — were two reptilians of the serpentes variety. They were identical, perfectly in sync (although the only differing traits that they possessed were the color of their eyes). They slithered along the shore, flicking their fork-like tongues as they tried to keep up with their master. Marvolo glanced over his shoulder, hissing-like noises emitting from his maw. "Eryn, Tisiphone- come, now. We haven't much further." Marvolo told them, and although they said nothing in response, they both understood him.
Marvolo was quick to detect the sound of paw steps, though, and he came to a sudden halt. The snakes did as well, letting out hushed hisses of confusion. He creased his figurative brows, his eyes narrowing into slits as he tried to spot any movement coming from the depths of the trees. When someone finally arrived, however, he could tell that this was a clanner. This was just who he was looking for. Holding his head up high and meeting their gaze, Marvolo would speak in a strong, confident tone, "Hello." He had greeted before continuing, "I wish to join your ranks, if you'll have me."
The smell in the air was putrid. The rotting and decaying nature of the swamp practically singed his nostrils, and the stench of the green algae was off-putting. He had started to really doubt his decision in coming here, but he then told himself that he hadn't come all this way for nothing. If the rest of the territory was in such a state, then perhaps the serval would choose to move on, but maybe this place held potential. After all, he just sought somewhere to lay his head and cultivate his ambitions. He needed somewhere safe for his "practices". It would be purely a waste of time if he didn't first attempt to join this.. clan. Yes, he had heard of these clans before. He had never been apart of one, as he had been raised away from them, but now he was an adult. He could venture wherever he pleased and he could join whichever clan he desired. It was all his choice, and nobody could make it for him.
Marvolo. It was a nonsense name, but a name nonetheless. His foster parents had bestowed it upon him at an early age, and it was all he had ever been known by. It was all that he had kept from when he fled that dreaded family, along with the memories, of course. He could still feel the sensations of scratches and bruises from his rowdy adopted siblings. He could still feel the swelling in the cavities of his chest, the hurt that he had felt whenever he was scolded. He could still feel the annoyance, and even the fury that bubbled within him for months and months. It was truly a miracle that he had managed to stay with them for so long.
The melanistic serval, carrying himself with a confident and determined gait, walked along the shore of the murky swamp. The black robe draped over his backside flowed in the breeze as he tried to detect a scent, a sound, a presence, anything. Trailing behind him — or slithering, more like — were two reptilians of the serpentes variety. They were identical, perfectly in sync (although the only differing traits that they possessed were the color of their eyes). They slithered along the shore, flicking their fork-like tongues as they tried to keep up with their master. Marvolo glanced over his shoulder, hissing-like noises emitting from his maw. "Eryn, Tisiphone- come, now. We haven't much further." Marvolo told them, and although they said nothing in response, they both understood him.
Marvolo was quick to detect the sound of paw steps, though, and he came to a sudden halt. The snakes did as well, letting out hushed hisses of confusion. He creased his figurative brows, his eyes narrowing into slits as he tried to spot any movement coming from the depths of the trees. When someone finally arrived, however, he could tell that this was a clanner. This was just who he was looking for. Holding his head up high and meeting their gaze, Marvolo would speak in a strong, confident tone, "Hello." He had greeted before continuing, "I wish to join your ranks, if you'll have me."
[align=center]
CUPID HIT ME, CUPID HIT ME WITH PRECISION
I WONDER IF YOU LOOK BOTH WAYS WHEN YOU CROSS MY MIND.
beatles // she or her pronouns // characters // see profile for more info