01-14-2021, 02:54 PM
Not much draws me away these days.
From my home.
From my Sylva.
Unfortunately.
Things are rather stagnant, and I’ve grown restless. And hungry.
And it gives me good reason to soar beyond the boundaries to haunt common lands. Maybe find some poor critters to torment and chase.
Or better yet - torture them with conversation.
Pickings are slim tonight, but it’s fine.
I’m content to busy myself by playing with an opossum. He does this thing where he runs, and then stops and hisses, and then stops moving and pretends to ignore me. Until I swat at him enough with outstretched paws - particularly that wormy tail of his - and then he makes off again and I pretend that he’s faster than me.
Clearly, we both know that’s not the case, and I’m just a fantastic sport.
And the cycle goes on and on.
And on and on and on.
Until I swat him just a little too hard.
And our game is over.
Forever.
Anyway, as I pranced and paraded with my trophy in tow back towards Sylva and my favorite perch, a little tiny conversation makes me veer in its direction. I’m not exactly quiet per se, when I bust through the scrubby shrubs and branches, then drop the opossum with a grotesque thud. The twist of my feline ears signals interest, and of course I just couldn’t help myself, “Your friend seems nice,” I say helpfully.
It’s true, I think, staring into the eyes of the patchy badger. It was awfully nice of his friend to help him decorate.
@[Kradle]
From my home.
From my Sylva.
Unfortunately.
Things are rather stagnant, and I’ve grown restless. And hungry.
And it gives me good reason to soar beyond the boundaries to haunt common lands. Maybe find some poor critters to torment and chase.
Or better yet - torture them with conversation.
Pickings are slim tonight, but it’s fine.
I’m content to busy myself by playing with an opossum. He does this thing where he runs, and then stops and hisses, and then stops moving and pretends to ignore me. Until I swat at him enough with outstretched paws - particularly that wormy tail of his - and then he makes off again and I pretend that he’s faster than me.
Clearly, we both know that’s not the case, and I’m just a fantastic sport.
And the cycle goes on and on.
And on and on and on.
Until I swat him just a little too hard.
And our game is over.
Forever.
Anyway, as I pranced and paraded with my trophy in tow back towards Sylva and my favorite perch, a little tiny conversation makes me veer in its direction. I’m not exactly quiet per se, when I bust through the scrubby shrubs and branches, then drop the opossum with a grotesque thud. The twist of my feline ears signals interest, and of course I just couldn’t help myself, “Your friend seems nice,” I say helpfully.
It’s true, I think, staring into the eyes of the patchy badger. It was awfully nice of his friend to help him decorate.
@[Kradle]