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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2013 18:37:21 GMT
Melanie prowled around the frozen lake viewing it from the shadows of the trees. Her mind was full of thoughts and the big black cat had no desire to run into a canine today. There was plenty of times that she was all up for a fight at any time of the day, but some days she just wished the war would be over. Who ever would have guessed that it would have lasted this long? Seven years of constantly looking over her shoulder made her naturally wary. For now the lake appeared empty and all Melanie really wanted was a good bask in the sun, even if it was not all that warm this time of year, and some time with her thoughts. There were many a more private locations, after all her homelands we a big place, but nowhere else would slake her thirst as well nor were they as pretty.
Stepping out of the shadows Melanie paced towards the frozen body of water, beautiful even in its frozen stillness as the pale winter sun shone on it's surface. Clear paw prints were left in the snow behind Melanie as she moved and she despised them and the clear trail the left. Melanie reached the crystallized lake and used one large paw to scrape away some of the snow from the edge. The water was more shallow here and the ice was more likely to be thin in the middle but the jaguar did not desire to move out that far on the ice unless she must. Sure enough the ice did not crack and the big cat sighed. She could wait a bit longer before getting a drink. Before turning away she lowered her head and licked the ice a couple of times to moisten her tongue.
Melanie actually really did love the winter and all the beauty that came with it. Lowering her body to the ground she curled up in that style which was signature of cats and pondered what the world would be like without war.
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Post by Picasso on Jul 29, 2013 11:58:25 GMT
"Speech"
Hexasol had succumbed to winter, and Denim hated it. Whilst he enjoyed the beauty of the snow blanketing the city, his body was not built for such a cold climate. The tawny lion shivered as he padded through the forest. His paws were ice-cold from the snow crunching beneath him. They had had fresh snowfall last night, meaning another few inches to wade through. It became exhausting to walk through the snow constantly, and Denim was tiring. He had ventured out of the city today to find prey in the countryside. From eavesdropping on other animals, Denim had soon heard that everyone was struggling to find prey. The majority were hibernating, whilst the rest had migrated. Very few had decided to stay in Hexasol in this cold season. His stomach growled in frustration. His last meal had been two days ago - a lucky find. A lame wild boar had stumbled into his path, and Denim hadn't hesitated in killing it. However, even such a large meal didn't last long for a lion, and he was hungry once again.
Breaking through the clearing, Denim came across the lake. He had been here many times before. He doubted fishing through the ice would result in a meal. As the lion was about to turn back, a clear figure made Denim stop. A black panther stood out amongst the snow and ice. He gazed over at her, suddenly realising how lucky he was. Whilst he was not a white lion like his father or brother, he still had the advantage of being able to hide in undergrowth to catch this prey. The black feline before him would have no such luck. They stood out like a sore thumb in this weather. He watched as she licked at the ice, before wondering whether to approach her. Who knew what alliance she had with the Iris Pride? Then again, Denim couldn't remember the last time he had spoken with anyone but himself. He was becoming a recluse, much like his father before he'd died.
Padding through the snow, Denim started to approach the lake, making sure not to get too close to her. Many animals were hostile to a male lion, so he stopped a few feet away from her and pressed his paws into the ice. Luckily it was thin enough to break, and he bent down to lap up the cool water below. Sated, he looked back up, catching the panther's scent. Iris. He should have known. Denim considered turning away and leaving. Denim didn't want to get into a fight with an Iris cat. Sighing, he wondered how his brother was doing, ruling over the Pride. He had heard rumours that the Pride was dwindling, which made Denim crack a smile. However, an even more chilling thought had passed through Denim's mind. If Iris fell, then Tempest would win. Whilst Denim didn't hate dogs, he knew The Tempest could become greedy and mad with power if they became the victors.
Deciding to leave, Denim bobbed his head in the black cat's direction, before turning on his heel back towards the trees.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2013 17:58:13 GMT
Melanie had been deep within her own reverie when her ears twitched reflexively and she started at the sound of cracking ice. Swiveling her head around caused her gaze to land on a lion. For just a moment she inwardly sighed in relief, it was not a dog. Melanie was really serious about not wanting a fight today. Her guard was put back up quickly as she watched the other large cat drink what must have been ice cold water. Suddenly the panther's thirst was back on her in full force and she swallowed habitually trying to produce saliva and contemplating the water. Naturally it was not long before the other cat finished and looked her direction, for a moment he simply stared at her and his nostrils flared before he turned to walk away.
Melanie's let her yellow eyes watch him warily as he trod back towards the woods, his paws crunching neatly on the crisp snow, a noise that Melanie should have been alert to before. An unfortunate thing about snow was that it was loud, which could make hunting in already unpromising weather conditions even more difficult. Raising off the ground she shook a bit of loose snow out of her thick winter coat and stepped towards the hole the lion had made in the lake, knowing it would not take long for the ice to begin reforming. While the big cat did not mind her water ice cold she hating the feeling of ice chunks in her throat. Before she reached the water she remembered something her mother always said about keeping up with everything going on around you. Perhaps she could pick up a bit of gossip from this lion? It was not like Melanie really had any friends.
"Wait!" Melanie called to the lion, who was close to the edge of the tree line now. "Nasty cold this snow is, yes?" The black cat did not know the lion, but she decided to start out with something generic. If the other cat chose to stay it would actually be rather nice she thought. Melanie hated being by herself all the time, that was why she finally applied to the Iris pack, even though she was unsure whether she actually desired to put her self into such an active branch of the war. Leaving her ears pricked towards the male she lowered her head to lap the cold water with relief.
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Post by Picasso on Jul 30, 2013 10:21:25 GMT
Denim could feel the panther's eyes on him as he drank from the water. He was tense, hoping the female wasn't hostile. She could potentially have cubs nearby, and she could view Denim as a thread. He swivelled his eyes around the area. There wasn't a trace or scent of young cubs, but they could be well hidden. Finally, as had turned and was now walking away, she called out to him. Denim relaxed. If she wanted to talk, then she wasn't going to attack him. Turning his head a fraction, he gazed over at the ebony cat. He hoped she wouldn't recognise him as the famous exile of the Iris Pride. He had been gone from the Pride for so long, he hoped his face and scent would be forgotten. Taking a step back, he now faced the feline.
The question struck Denim by surprise, but a small smile flickered onto his lips as he nodded in agreement, "It is. And it'll only get worse. We have months to go, yet." He sighed and gazed up at the dark clouds above. Winter was the most beautiful and yet the most deadly season. He remembered the year prior, when he and his brother had got trapped in a cave from an avalanche. Stranglers Mountains looked in the distance, beyond Avalon Lake. He shuddered at the memory, and pushed it behind him. Instead, Denim walked closer to the panther, but made sure to maintain his distance. Many cats didn't appreciate being crowded, so he trod carefully. Finally, Denim came to a stop in the snow, and lowered himself to his haunches.
"I can't bear the lack of prey around here," He continued, feeling the raw emptiness of his stomach, "Spring will be a welcome blessing." He looked out over the frozen lake, stopped in time from the winter. Winter did nothing but pick off the weakest animals. Denim wondered whether he should reveal his name. If this panther had been in Iris for several years, she'd recognise it immediately. However, Denim was not a liar, and to be frank, did he really care whether the panther knew him or not? Yes, he caused disgrace to his family. But who gave a shit anymore?
"I'm Denim," He said, waiting to see whether the panther would reveal her own name.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2013 17:00:34 GMT
Melanie found herself quite relieved when she the lion answered, perhaps she had not realized just how lonely she had been, not to mention she was always curious to meet new potential friends, and for the most part winter was a quite part of the year and loners were much fewer than the prides or packs of other animals always believed them to be. Although Melanie could never do a head count and tell you how many of them there were the chances of crossing paths with one was often low, as the world was a big place with a lot of space. Even including the fact that most animals stayed within a certain range of the city now a days, due to the fact it was basically war headquarters, they did not mingle much. That was often part of being a loner. Then there were the cats like Melanie who had stayed on her own for so long simply because it was easier than being actively involved in a war that she hated from the time she was capable of such emotions due to all the things it took from her.
Melanie finished her drink to discover that the lion was indeed pacing back towards her. Stepping away from the water a bit she sat down in the snow wincing a bit as the cold seeped into a non-fur protected location before settling into the common numbness winter brought about.
By now the lion had reached her and all she could do was nod in agreement to his statements about the weather and hunting before he was introducing himself. Oh, was he so very right about hunting as well, the panther had lucked out early that morning with a small snow hare that had stumbled across her path, but hunting was difficult for her this time of year, even with all the training her mother put her through about staying out of sight and being upwind. Sometimes her birth color just made extremely poor camouflage.
"Denim," Melanie tested the name before deciding she had never heard of this lion before, not that she knew a lot of cats, but it never hurt to wrack ones brain. Especially when the name sounded innately familiar. Maybe Melanie had just become that desperate for company that she was imagining things.
"I'm Melanie, and I am all for spring to be here as well." A shiver ran through her body reflexively as she thought about how cold it was now, even if every thing glittered with an unreal beauty, compared to the blessed warmth that would be brought on by spring and summer.
"I have heard a lot of rumors drifting out of the city, do you ever venture there?" It was true too, things seemed to really be heating up between the animals that resided on opposite sides.
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Post by Picasso on Aug 3, 2013 22:27:15 GMT
Denim relaxed a fraction when the panther tested out his name. It appeared she did not recognise him. Breathing out, he smiled at her, wondering whether she was lonely too. It surprised Denim to see the desperation to keep a conversation with a stranger going, when she was clearly an Iris cat. Was she not close with others in her pride? Denim had thought a lot of them were joined at the hip. Maybe Denim had judged her entirely wrong. There was no doubt that she had lived in Iris for a period of time. When Melanie spoke her name, he bobbed his head in greeting. He didn’t recognise her name either – was she a newcomer to the city?
The question rendered Denim speechless for a moment. He hadn’t expected it, and it had confused him. Rumours? Frowning in response, Denim gazed out at the frozen lake. It was tranquil in the countryside. The older the lion got, the more he enjoyed venturing outside of the bustle of the city. There was less bloodshed out here. The countryside brought the loners, who wanted to keep peace between each other. Here, animals brought up their young and taught them the facts of life. Denim wished he had a cubhood in the comfort of the tall trees and rolling mountains.
”Rumours?” He asked, wondering what Melanie could possibly mean. He wondered whether she was talking about the packs. Even a blind cat could see how weak Iris was right now. ”I have heard that the Tempest are stirring.” He said with a shrug. The war still bothered Denim now. Even if the Tempest won, it would not be the end. Denim would rather the war still continued, even if countless lives were lost. If Tempest won, Denim could potentially be enslaved and killed. A shiver ran down his spine. Perhaps he should leave before anything terrible like that happened.
”What about Iris? I take it they’re as crap as usual.” Denim smirked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how pathetic the Iris Pride looked right now. Ever since Panja – no – ever since Florence had died, the Iris Pride had gone downhill. Alexander did the best he could, but he could not live up to their mother’s legacy. Oh how Florence would be turning in her proverbial grave.
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