Today, Clementine Linette Gable was on a mission. Too long had she put off the most important task of her entire life, her entire EXISTENCE! Each day when she woke, she’d tell herself she wasn’t ready. That all this was merely temporary, a fragment of memory to be washed away with the incoming tide of future events. And yet…here she was. Still here, still very much the same. So, this morning Clementine had rolled up her proverbial sleeves and set out to look for some tasteful den décor. As she picked her way through the grove, she murmured dreamily to herself. Her mind was so full of ideas, of glorious shining things! So full in fact, that she tripped more than once over the multiple roots and stones that lay about the forest. Clementine stopped to inspect one of these stones in detail. The thing about decorative rocks is that they can’t be just ANY rock, they have to be either meaningful or aesthetically pleasing. The peachy lioness giggled to herself, “look, it has a face!” Very October, very Halloween with those three splotches forming a sort of “boo” face. But does it spark joy? That, my friends, is something else entirely.
I may never sleep tonight
*image referenced by Sebastian Niedlich on Flickr under creative commons liscense 2.0* |
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
The flighty sweetly snow capped lioness almost literally danced along the path and hummed to herself as she did so. There were no words in her song, just a bouncing melody that carried in time with her feet as she pranced. Long step, two short steps, a leap and then a twirl. She posed at the end, the pinacle of a Ta-da moment if ever there was one. As she stretched her limbs out to stand in a widened triumphant pose her toes cracked a stick down below and made quite the loud splinting sound as the dried piece of timber broke under her weight.
OOC: @Clementine *oh my darling oh my darling*
OOC: Yuss! I got her name from that song when it was featured in Outlander. Also, I LOOOVE your writing, she’s too cute ;0; Hmmm. HMMM! HmmmMMMM! Clementine slowly padded around the rock, her tail flicking against the cold, grey surface. It looked quite heavy, surely too heavy for her take home all by herself. And where would she put it? After all, her current den was small and squished, as she’d chosen it more out of necessity than folly. Not exactly the piece of real estate of her dreams! It could be place outside the den, as a sort of guardian. Maybe she could somehow etch or paint a message onto it. Property of Clementine, KEEP OUT! (unless you brought dessert). The peachy lioness sat back on her haunches, deep in her retrospection, when suddenly a crunchy SNAP sent her head whipping backwards. But there was nothing, nothing but the tall silhouettes of hardy, red-leaved trees. Clementine swallowed, her ears pricking up in attempt to discern the source of sound. Oh, what a sound! That snap still reverberated inside her, as if it had been her who’d been broken in two. A little Clementine twig. “He-hello?” She approached, crouching behind the trunk of an ancient tree. A tree so big and thick it could’ve hidden the very moon within it. And only giants could’ve embraced it completely. Clementine licked her lips and tried to muster the tiny ounce of courage inside of her. Adrenaline junkie my butt! “Are you hurt?” Better yet, are you hungry?
I may never sleep tonight
*image referenced by Sebastian Niedlich on Flickr under creative commons liscense 2.0* |
Clementine's trembling hello fluttered along into Songbird's ears and despite sounding just as careful, scared, it made the white woman a little nervous. A little embarassed she'd stumbled along so recklessly and didn't know until now, too late, how close she was to someone. She 'eeped' a soft little bird like sound and whirled around in a circle, a tornado chasing its tail two revolutions before she figured out where @Clementine's voice was coming from. Around that big tree poked a tufted head of rose and hay. Hurt? Songbird's head shook no and she lifted a forepaw, wiggling it back and forth only to set it down and repeat the motion with the other. See, everything was working just fine.
The white woman was silent, evidence of a nervous soul feeling painted along the lines of her one good eye and in the awkward angle of her ears. Not quite down, not quite erect. Somewhere in between and listening to Clementine judging by their angle. And in there too a very clear apologetic look in the lines of her mouth and the drooping of her cheeks, her shoulders. She hadn't meant to distrupt anyone.