// @
gs29513
The black-furred feline contemplated giving his name, then decided it was only fair since the earthworm shared hers.
"Granite," he grumbled begrudgingly. A much better name than parts of a flower in his supreme opinion. He chose it for himself. Never had a proper call before that.
"I was here before the fleas came bouncing in," the loner rumbled.
"But apparently that matters to no one. It's so loud that any prey could hear us from dozens of fox-lengths away. If I didn't already have a nest, I wouldn't be staying." Really, he wanted nothing to do with any newcomers, but with an entire civilization forming in his camp, that he would eventually speak with one was inevitable. Look here—he didn't even last a sunrise!