Quote:
Originally Posted by Myik
@ blue jellie
The air was odd, cold yet the kitten was used to the feeling. He had been born in the cold, and by now the tom's paws were immune to the numbness. Still, he shivered the cold biting through the fuzz of his pelt. Yellow eyes glancing as the calico tom walked to the fresh kill pile. He was 5 moons, surely his mother wouldn't mind him eating by himself. Pulling a fat mouse out, the tom flicked his spotted tail. His eyes sparkling at the warm prey. Inviting him, he so desperately wanted to curl up in it. He took small bites, his eyes flicking to make sure no one was staring at him. Shouldn't you be sharing with your mom? You'll be fat if you eat it all! Such a pretty thing! Toms won't even look your way eating like that! He had corrected people many times that he was male, yet mistakes kept coming. |
so is this guy previously female?
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Mockingfeather, the long-haired furball, was sitting by the prey pile, enjoying small raven. The she-cat dreaded this weather that was soon to come- soggy prey, puddles all around camp, high river waters, and soaked nests. It was bad enough that her long, oversized pelt of fluff was easily soaked through. The she-cat even dreaded hunting for that very reason; her pelt could stay wet and damp for moons in this thaw. Shaking out her fur, she kneaded the ground slightly before delicately laying on the ground. A small figure raced over to the prey pile before continuing hesitantly. This kit was big enough to look like an apprentice, but the kit fluff around their ears proved otherwise. Sighing, the warrior stood before walking slowly and contentedly to where the kit stood. "Are you old enough for such a big mouse? This thing's nearly as big as you!" she purred sitting in front of the kit.