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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2013 16:18:20 GMT -5
So I needed to test a table, so I figured, well hey, I'll start a thread. If you need to test a table, show off your skills (be they might or (in my case) meager).
jacknose
"you're the antidote to [everything] except for [me]"
text | "talking " | thoughts
| Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a kitty cat named Jacknose. And he liked to think he was BA but he was not BA. Because c'mon, his name is Jacknose. Now if he'd been named Jackfrost, that would have been BA.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2013 16:30:01 GMT -5
Mousepaw
"i know i'll keep [searching] after today"
text | "talking " | thoughts
| Mousepaw. Sweet, lovely, clever and a functional introvert. The future Miss Mouseface, for cause the loveliness. & bestie of Minkpaw
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2013 14:26:30 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2013 11:41:57 GMT -5
It was never so much his turn to hunt at Feather Stones so much as it was his pleasure. He enjoyed the challenge of the risky steps and the protective and rather angry birds. Unlike other clan members, it was rare to find him stepping along the Feather Stones paths outside of the dusk hour. While many went in midday, or even in morning, his time to go was when the sun dipped below the ocean horizon, when the rocks held a reddish glow from the reddened sun. This was when he blended in and when he was most successful, that or in the dark of night- but even he wasn’t that rat brained. At night there was faint moonlight, but too much could go wrong. Not even Squirrelstep would risk it at night.
On that particularly dusk, he was alone- or so he thought- and moved without the careful and focused look he held when others were watching. Tonight, he moved with unprecedented graze and ease, his momentum was steady. Even when he slipped up, his pace hardly slowed and within three steps he was back on stride. The pale orange tom scaled the cliffs, muscles flexing and tail twitching, flicking out to give him balance as he hugged the stonewall to his left. As he reached the nesting area his pace finally slowed and his body slunk low, hugging the stone under his paws as well as the wall. The tom had slipped into hunting mode, letting his tail lay behind him as his ears swiveled forward to listen to the chatter of birds, laying on their nests.
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