Soft Claws and Empty Bellies [tagged] [fin.] Oct 5, 2017 5:09:42 GMT
Post by Cloven-Hoof on Oct 5, 2017 5:09:42 GMT
How in the world did I wind up here?
The question was at the fore of Troile's mind, as the ginger cat plodded with heavy paws through the unfamiliar woods, each step leaving a definite crunch in the snow. The long-haired tom was plainly out of his element, his ragged fur catching in every gorse and bramble he wandered near, and though his pace had slowed considerably, his breathing was still heavy from sprinting not so long ago. Of course, Troile knew why he'd wound up in this predicament, though frankly, at this point, he'd rather not think about it. In spite of that, the memories pressed loud in his head.
The exhausted cat looked to and fro, his hackles twitching slightly just from his own nerves before settling down and seating himself at the foot of a smallish tree, collecting his thoughts as he began grooming the tangles from his fur.
It was not so unusual (or at least, not to Troile) that it was still less than a moon that he'd departed from the last settlement he'd been staying in. But it seemed like no matter where he'd wended after, he'd found trouble, bouncing from one narrowly dodged monster to the next ticked off cat whose turf he'd wandered into. But this area in particular seemed to have it out for him. He'd only just arrived this morning, and had just managed to sneak into an upwalker's territory, lured in by the scent of a cheap meal. Maybe if he paid more attention to the other smells in that place, he'd have noticed the dog. Troile's fur prickled again at the thought of the beast, massive, dark, and slavering. With a sigh, he turned his attention to his tail, his expression darkening at the chunk of fur missing from its tip. He was lucky he didn't lose more, he supposed, as he'd turned tail and fled at the first sight of trouble... But now he'd found himself in this mess.
Troile's stomach grumbled furiously. He had already been considerably famished by the time he'd found that dog's food, but now that he'd been running like mad on an empty stomach, his hunger had returned with a vengeance. It was then that Troile's rumination was interrupted by a furious chittering overhead. Craning his head back, the ginger found its source, a squirrel, just a few branches up the tree, almost mocking him with its impunity. Troile's tail lashed. He knew he was a rotten hunter, but at this point he was considering clambering up that tree just to teach that squirrel a lesson.
NOTES: Nyara Sorry for the wait! I wasn't sure how to implement Troile in a non-urban setting but I think I have something that'll work well for him!
Also, for my own benefit, this thread is taking place before my other thread with Troile in the city that's going right now.