05-28-2021, 11:16 PM
The sun is bright on the water of the river that runs through Tephra, shining directly down and making the surface impossible to see through. Malik huffs irritably at this, having wanted to fish, and turns back to the shore. He wanders until he finds Sickle, and his mood improves along the way.
Wearing the shape of a black-on-black striped tiger cub, he catches a large butterfly and a suspicious looking tuft of shed winter-hair on the bark of a tree.
As he walks, he forgets where he is going, and wanders simply to wander. The paths he follows are ones he knows well. Tephra is the only home he remembers, and the memory of a mother other than Wishbone fades quickly from consciousness. He wants for nothing, save perhaps more hours in the day with which to be and do and learn.
The scent of his twin distracts Malik from his stalking of a large capybara, and the boy stands up quickly. His movements do not startle the brown creature, which only eyes him with blank placidity. The animals of this jungle have seen far worse than little shifters who like to play at hunting.
Treading forward quietly, the dark haired boy narrows his bicolored eyes. His sister is just ahead, visible through the trees. She is shifting rapidly, so quickly that he smiles at the realization of what that must mean.
She’s sleeping. He should be quiet, he knows, and let her sleep.
Instead, he gives a most impressive roar, one that he imagines sounds like Malou. In reality, it is much more of a squawk, but surely it will be loud enough to wake his twin, and when it does he can pounce on her. His tail twitches in anticipation, the iridescent black fur of his stripes glittering in the glow of their own internal light.
@[Wishbone]
@[Sickle]
Wearing the shape of a black-on-black striped tiger cub, he catches a large butterfly and a suspicious looking tuft of shed winter-hair on the bark of a tree.
As he walks, he forgets where he is going, and wanders simply to wander. The paths he follows are ones he knows well. Tephra is the only home he remembers, and the memory of a mother other than Wishbone fades quickly from consciousness. He wants for nothing, save perhaps more hours in the day with which to be and do and learn.
The scent of his twin distracts Malik from his stalking of a large capybara, and the boy stands up quickly. His movements do not startle the brown creature, which only eyes him with blank placidity. The animals of this jungle have seen far worse than little shifters who like to play at hunting.
Treading forward quietly, the dark haired boy narrows his bicolored eyes. His sister is just ahead, visible through the trees. She is shifting rapidly, so quickly that he smiles at the realization of what that must mean.
She’s sleeping. He should be quiet, he knows, and let her sleep.
Instead, he gives a most impressive roar, one that he imagines sounds like Malou. In reality, it is much more of a squawk, but surely it will be loud enough to wake his twin, and when it does he can pounce on her. His tail twitches in anticipation, the iridescent black fur of his stripes glittering in the glow of their own internal light.
@[Wishbone]
@[Sickle]