Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2015 11:45:20 GMT -5
In no particular order (pref speckle first)....
Flight of the Thunderbird - Tom
Specklebird - Addertail
Vinepool - Stripetail
Otterpotter - Mistpaw
Read more: anotherwarriorrp.proboards.com/thread/25562/eagles-return-tagged#ixzz3hlsJUHUH
As the day began to die the hunger in the she cat began to rise. A soft wind blew lowly through the thin grass and dirt, whipping up gentle amounts of dust and quietly running through the blades. A few tree lengths away from the Talonclan border, the she cat prowled through the nameless territory, blending in almost too well with the subtle dust. This she cat was fine and slick - she would be considered small and petite if her torso and legs weren't as long as a large cat. Lanky but graceful, the she cat's silky tan fur was blended with a subtle stripe on her back followed with a light tan base. She had large, amber-green, almond eyes with two brown ticks above them; a white chin, unusually long and abundant whiskers on her maw, cheeks and brows. She was sneaking so low and so rigid that her rabbit soft fur gently brushed against the dry ground, her thick tail hovering silently still a breath away from the dirt. Her ears were back to protect them from dust that blew, for she did not need them as much as she could simply sense the movement of creatures with her keen whiskers. It was almost as though the tugged her to prey and warned her from danger.
Today however, the seemed to pull her for a different reason. She followed her senses without question, but this time the tingled differently than if they were locating her next meal. She scanned the area, wondering when her tom would return to her with something to eat in case she failed to catch something. Birds chirped in the distance, not joyfully, but simply calling to one another in their strange language of music that was exclusive only to them. For some reason the she cat flinched - not harsh, but just enough to get a blood rush through her head, making her muscles seem out of place. Why did the cat have a strange reaction to birds? She did not questioned it, but rather tried to recollect her focus. She breathed in, only to find the texture of dry tasteless air. She smelled only the empty reminder that she was a poor hunter. She believed she was born without a sense of smell, but little did she know it was from head damage from a younger age when an eagle had pushed her off the edge of a cliff. Her memories were consistent with her life with her tom - there was no trace of her true self, a clan born cat. Hidden from her memory lays seven moons of honor, pride and love - lost from the she cat the day she fell to her demise of being a clan cat. The rogue now awaits, whiskered with anxiety, waiting for something to happen. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like something big was about to happen.
Flight of the Thunderbird - Tom
Specklebird - Addertail
Vinepool - Stripetail
Otterpotter - Mistpaw
Read more: anotherwarriorrp.proboards.com/thread/25562/eagles-return-tagged#ixzz3hlsJUHUH
As the day began to die the hunger in the she cat began to rise. A soft wind blew lowly through the thin grass and dirt, whipping up gentle amounts of dust and quietly running through the blades. A few tree lengths away from the Talonclan border, the she cat prowled through the nameless territory, blending in almost too well with the subtle dust. This she cat was fine and slick - she would be considered small and petite if her torso and legs weren't as long as a large cat. Lanky but graceful, the she cat's silky tan fur was blended with a subtle stripe on her back followed with a light tan base. She had large, amber-green, almond eyes with two brown ticks above them; a white chin, unusually long and abundant whiskers on her maw, cheeks and brows. She was sneaking so low and so rigid that her rabbit soft fur gently brushed against the dry ground, her thick tail hovering silently still a breath away from the dirt. Her ears were back to protect them from dust that blew, for she did not need them as much as she could simply sense the movement of creatures with her keen whiskers. It was almost as though the tugged her to prey and warned her from danger.
Today however, the seemed to pull her for a different reason. She followed her senses without question, but this time the tingled differently than if they were locating her next meal. She scanned the area, wondering when her tom would return to her with something to eat in case she failed to catch something. Birds chirped in the distance, not joyfully, but simply calling to one another in their strange language of music that was exclusive only to them. For some reason the she cat flinched - not harsh, but just enough to get a blood rush through her head, making her muscles seem out of place. Why did the cat have a strange reaction to birds? She did not questioned it, but rather tried to recollect her focus. She breathed in, only to find the texture of dry tasteless air. She smelled only the empty reminder that she was a poor hunter. She believed she was born without a sense of smell, but little did she know it was from head damage from a younger age when an eagle had pushed her off the edge of a cliff. Her memories were consistent with her life with her tom - there was no trace of her true self, a clan born cat. Hidden from her memory lays seven moons of honor, pride and love - lost from the she cat the day she fell to her demise of being a clan cat. The rogue now awaits, whiskered with anxiety, waiting for something to happen. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like something big was about to happen.
