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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2013 16:25:43 GMT
A N T H E A
As far as she was aware, this was the most comfortable place she would be capable of reaching. Of course, higher up, nestled into the loose warmth of the hay-bales, would be preferable, but three failed attempts at scaling the side, and one unfortunate slip that jarred her injured leg, and Anthea resigned herself to crouch in the stray hay littering the barn floor while she cultivated a different plan. Having been chased away from her previous...home, this had been her most successful finding of the week: a quick exploration of the vast building had shown it to be void of life; aside from the mice that occasionally skittered across the straw-dusted floor.
Twisting to lick at the swollen joint of her hip, Anthea allowed her mind to wander. The days - and nights, were getting colder now: the seasons dipping closer to winter than autumn, and she was reminded of her first few months of life, spent curled at her adoptive mother's side, her siblings wriggling in beside her. They hadn't been her true family: all three of them were white, long-haired and perfect compared to Anthea's choppy, marbled colours. Despite their physical differences, Anthea never felt out of place: her mother even named her, began calling her by a different name when the kitten wouldn't reveal her own. 'Toni'. Apparently it had been the name of her mother's old human friend. Anthea had never seen the 'humans' her mother spoke so fondly of: but she imagined they must have been strange creatures, building towering structures in which to inhabit and walking on only their hind limbs.
Straightening, the young female watched a rodent dart across the ground a few feet away, vanishing into a space between two slatted wooden panels that made up the walls. It crossed her mind to chase it, trap it under her paws and bite down like her mother showed her; kill for the first time in her life and not go hungry another day, but drawing her right hind-leg beneath her caused it to ache, send a sharp slice of pain through the muscles of her thigh, so she resettled, tail twitching, half-content to just sit and watch the mice as they hurried away from her sharp gaze.
words // 382
ooc // This is really short and probably very bad ;__; sorry bby <33
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Post by Kezz on May 4, 2013 20:39:45 GMT
"Speech"
Amos trotted along in his merry little manner, following the fluttering red butterfly that flew just above his nose. He'd been tracking the pretty insect for a while now and was quite simply fascinated by it's vibrant colours and beautiful dancing. If only he could be that dainty and attractive, maybe then people would want to be friends with him? For three years he had resided in Hexasol and every single one of those years he had spent alone. Of course he bumped into cats, dogs, all sorts but he found that they mostly avoided him after spending a couple of days in his company. Amos tried to be quiet, he tried to act normal but in the end his insane curiosity and vitality for life shone through. It scared people off or annoyed - or both, who knew. The calico-mix had known one friend and that was Chell but in the end she too left him for no apparent reason. He missed her proper speech and her clever mind, the tabby always seemed to know the answer to his endless stream of questions.
A rumbling sound came from the pit of his rotund stomach as he reached a worn old track. Amos forgot the butterfly he had been following and gazed curiously down the long, dusty driveway: narrowing his bold blue eyes to see the farmhouse in the distance. With farms came mice and so the cat began to pad closer. If it was one thing his parents had taught him well at least it was how to catch food... without it Amos would not have lasted five minutes on his own. Sometimes he wondered how he'd managed for so long, when all he seemed to do was get in people's way and say silly things. The two-toned feline was mostly unaware of his nosiness, his over-excitable nature but there were times when he felt embarrassed with himself. Was he really that irritating?
The small tom paused to look up at the decrepit building; it's wooden rafters appeared damp from the rains, and the wind had apparently worn away at the structure. For years it would have been abandoned after it's owners died and it looked, to Amos, a very lonely place. He didn't usually venture this far from the city but the weather was so unusually nice for late autumn that he'd decided to explore the outer edges of Hexasol. As he pushed his pink nose through the front door of the house an unknown sensation prickled down his spine and an instinctive wariness tinged his nerves. Any normal person would have sped off by now but Amos was not normal... perhaps he was foolishly inquisitive but in truth he was not scared. The only thing the ex-Lexis cat feared was dying alone. So as he climbed the stairs and reached the first bedroom, his insides did not squirm at the sight of two human skeletons on the mattress. At first he stared: unsure of what to make of the unusual sight. The atmosphere was peaceful and there was something intrusive about his entry that made Amos retreat back downstairs and emerge into the daylight with a frown on his face. Poor human beings.
The little male pricked his ears as the sound of tiny scurrying paws came from the east and Amos laid eyes on the hay barn. All corpses forgotten he shuffled his way into the dimness, trying to make as little sound as possible. It was when his baby blues adjusted and he scanned the large barn that he saw the pretty tortoiseshell poised upon a hay bale. A grin lit up his striking, soft face as he greeted her with a loud "Hello up there! I'm Amos."
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2013 23:03:25 GMT
A N T H E A
The wind was starting to pick up; enough that the small feline was certain the weather tonight would be unpleasant; despite the current comfortable temperature. Perhaps both a warm day and a bearable night was too much to ask. The thick, cloying smell of damp wood was heavy, cutting off all but the barest hint of the mice that hid on the ground beneath her perch: it was unpleasant, had the distinct sensation of tightening her chest, making a cough tickle at the hind of her throat. Had she been more able, she would have been happy to leave, but she was stuck, for the time being, at least until the ache in her hip subsided. The light was still bright, sharp through the thin gaps between the slats of the barn, leaving slices of light that highlighted the dust in the air.
She recalled, briefly, her time living in a barn where the horses used to live. Her mother had nestled her among the straw, and herded Anthea's siblings away without a word. It had come to her attention that her mother hadn't expected her to live, not as small and hopeless as she was, but clearly some still saw promise in her. Her adoptive mother and siblings, almost her polar opposite in their purity: lush, pearly-white fur and perfect blue eyes. She had felt out of place, bringing her skinny, dirty self into their home. That had never really changed, despite their obvious love for her. She remembered the feeling of being nestled against all that alabaster fur, stomach full of milk and coat smooth from an attentive tongue. It had been a mistake to leave them, of course it had. Her mother had warned her so, but she was impulsive, had never been able to do as she was told, and hadn't it gotten her into a mess this time.
A soft tremor ran through her at the memory of warmth, of familiarity. She'd barely paused to glance at another cat, let alone befriend one, and the loneliness was trying on her weary patience. Her survival had been based on thievery, darting in to steal scraps and the forgotten hunts of other animals. Somehow, her clumsy attempts at secrecy had gone unnoticed, and she hadn't starved to death...yet. Green eyes watched as yet another mouse crept along the edge of her hay-bale, and she considered leaping for it: she'd get it, no doubt, but the painful consequences would hardly be worth it. Nevertheless, she tensed as if in anticipation for the leap, tail twitching spasmodically against the hay on which she rest, head tucking beneath her fore-paws to rest against the sun-warmed hay. If she really concentrated, she could hear their tiny, scratching footsteps, the soft sound of their burrowing into the straw. She watched as the mouse that had, previously, been contentedly worrying his way through the dense littering on the floor, froze, turning to stare toward the barn doors before darting away: a blur of brown-grey fur, the predatory widening of Anthea's pupils automatic as she fought the instinct to chase. Maybe if she could corner one she wouldn't have to use her leg to any extreme...
"Hello up there! I'm Amos."
The words struck her with such surprise that for a moment or two, she found herself frozen, before she jerked toward the direction of the voice, eyes wide, searching, until she encountered the being that had addressed her. She lingered on him for a moment, assessing. He was larger than her by some degrees, though that was not unusual, for a cat of her age. He had an interesting two-tonal coat, kind blue eyes and a soft, round face. Anthea was scrabbling to her feet a moment later, startling backwards a few, jerky steps, before reminding herself that she was higher than him: in all logic, she should have the advantage here. So she paused, viewing him from over the edge of her bale, and there were a few beats of silence before she responded, voice small.
"I'm Anthea." He was smiling: her attempt to reciprocate emerged weak, barely an upward twitch of her lips. She let it drop with a small sigh. What were you supposed to say in these situations? She thought back to what mother told her. "It's...good to meet you." The statement was lilted upward, too much of a question to be sincere, but she let herself be satisfied with her reply. He seemed...kind.
Maybe it was her advantage in height, but she didn't feel as intimidated as she often did when faced with others. She let herself creep forward a step or two, laying low enough that her belly rested against the hay. It wasn't graceful, by any means, but it allowed her a better view of him.
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Post by Kezz on May 5, 2013 12:50:28 GMT
"Speech"The mottled queen seemed startled by his sudden appearance but he barley noticed so great was his delight. Weeks would often pass for Amos without encountering another living soul and so this was a pleasant surprise; the dual-toned male would never turn down the companionship of another, especially because of his lonely, nomadic lifestyle. He hadn't chosen this path: no his father had done that for him. His parents were gentle cats but after two years of enduring his constant curiosity, his liveliness, it was wearing and they both eventually decided it was time for their son to move on. That meant leaving Lexis for good and forging his own way into the world. Amos was fascinated by the city in which he resided and to begin with was more than happy to set off into the sunset but as the weeks passed he grew sad and homesick. He missed his family, he missed his tribe, he missed the place where he was born yet it was too late. A part of him new that his mother and father didn't want him to return. A couple years on and, quite frankly, not much had changed. Amos was far more savvy about Hexasol than he had been at the start but still he made foolish, idiotic mistakes that often landed him into dire situations. He had very little common sense and was just too rusting and excitable to thrive in this rough place. So with awed eyes he craned his neck upwards to peer at the stranger; meeting new people was his favourite pastime. That and fishing of course. This young girl was certainly shy but that was to be expected, so he simply settled onto his haunches to wait for her reply. Perhaps he should have been more respectful, maybe he should have turned around and left the tortoiseshell to her peace but that was not in Amos' nature. He had never been able to master subtlety. Anthea. "What a pretty name you have! Look Amos and Anthea start with the same letter, what a coincidence." He beamed up at what he would class as a new friend, and stood up once more. The chubby tom didn't particularly notice her awkward disposition but he did pick up on her weakness. Was there something wrong? Was she injured? A prickle of concern for the female and he padded closer to the hay bales, listening to her following words. "Thanks, you too." He tilted his striking head and narrowed his eyes before bounding up onto the bale below Anthea's. His forget-me-not pupil's surveyed the back leg that stuck out at a bizarre angle and he flattened his dark ears against his head. "Oh my gosh, Miss are you alright? Does it hurt? Mum told me that poppy seeds help... there must be some around here. Oh my lord, wow that looks painful. I'm terribly sorry for you Anthea! You must be hungry? Let me catch something for you if I haven't already scared the little devils off." He grinned sympathetically at her though his worry shone through his voice. Amos had always been a caring soul and the fact that she was a stranger made no difference to his concern. He turned now and landed back onto the sun-dappled floor, causing dust clouds to billow higher. "Give me five minutes and I'll bring you back a feast Miss Anthea."
OOC: cuteenesss c; |
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Post by Deleted on May 14, 2013 18:33:12 GMT
A N T H E A
The young female tilted her head curiously at Amos: he was certainly a talkative one. Her family had been quiet, polite to the point of silence; she hadn't shared that characteristic, and her childish ramblings had earned her a scolding on many an occasion. Since then, she hadn't been paid company by anybody who spared her more than a couple of words, and those words were usually some variant of 'get out of my way'. He enthused about the matching letters of their names, something that wouldn't have been of interest to her even if she'd been the one to notice it, yet he said it with such vigour that she found herself twitching a smile nonetheless, a coincidence, indeed.
He stood, and she inclined her head to watch as he approached, jade eyes becoming warier with every inch that closed between them, despite the height she had over him. With a leap, he had mounted the bale below hers, and Anthea found herself startling, automatically rising to sit, fore-paws braced wide to keep her balance: the most her sore leg could allow her at the moment. She steadied her rapid heart with an inward frown, chiding herself for her behaviour. He hadn't shown himself to be a threat so far: in fact, there was a niggling thought in the back of her mind that doubted Amos could hurt her, even if he had reason to. It was a naive assumption, she knew. It's that way of thinking that gets kittens killed, her first mother had told her, black and fearsome in the winter night.
His voice broke into her mind, rapid and concerned, and she took in the sight of his pinned-back ears before she heard his words. Oh, her leg. She turned dumbly to look at the offending limb, uncomprehending for a second. She stretched the leg slightly, giving a wince: still aching, but not unbearable to the degree it had been earlier. She turned back to his widely smiling face, and her responding smile was tentative, meant as a reassurance in response to soothe his concern.
"I- I was born this way, sir." She heaved herself to standing, proving that she wasn't hopelessly hurt: for what purpose, she didn't know, perhaps to protect what little pride she had remaining. "It doesn't bother me so much, usually. I fear I must have unsettled it when I attempted to climb up here." At his offer to find food for her, she silenced, eyes darting aside to avoid the older tom's gaze. She shouldn't. It was rude to impose on somebody that way, she'd been assured of this fact as a kitten, but she was hungry, desperately so, and the offer of a fresh kill, just for her, was too appealing to consider rejecting. So she watched, with a slight amount of guilt, as Amos hopped back down to the light-littered ground, and said nothing to stop him. Instead, she descended onto the bale Amos had recently occupied: a small enough distance that it didn't cause her much pain, though the flex of her spine as she jumped left her skin taut over her bones, pulling her hips and ribs into a sharp relief. Approaching the side nearest the other feline, she allowed herself another smile. "If you are certain that it wouldn't be a problem, Amos. I don't wish for you to waste energy on a stranger like me." The sun fell almost directly across the bale on which she now sat: highlighting the pale gold flecks of colour against the pitch of her coat. "I would offer to assist you, but I'm afraid I would likely be unhelpful rather than an aid."
OOC// eep sorry for the wait and the faily post :c but they're very sweet ^^
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