knockyoursocksoff: (Default)
knockyoursocksoff ([personal profile] knockyoursocksoff) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2012-11-07 01:45 pm

animal season meme


ANIMAL SEASON

Human beings are a strange animal. While their base needs can be less all-consuming than certain other species, they indulge those needs a lot more often and in a lot more creative ways. Still, they're not animalistic, you know. They have logic and reason, morals and modesty and humility. That's why they don't run around fighting, killing, rutting, or gorging themselves like wild beasts.

At least, that is, when they have something separating them and the rest of the animal kingdom.

This little bubble of the multiverse is no longer keeping that status quo. A lucky selection of inhabitants will find themselves a bit wilder than usual. Some might have even taken on animal characteristics, like ears and tails, fur or claws. All of them, however, are focused only on very primal needs: food and water, safety and shelter, mating and protecting mates and offspring. They will do anything, absolutely anything, to protect what they have and take what they want.

Welcome to the jungle, ladies and gentlemen. Things might get a little hairy.

[OOC: This is a variant of the Mating Season meme, where animal nature is not confined to just the sex (not excluding it, of course, just allowing for more). Fighting over territory? Kicking a rogue out of the herd? Stealing another pack's prey, water, or mates? Searching for food/water/shelter? Think very base drives with optional animal parts.

Just a few notes:
-This doesn't follow "traditional" gender/biology roles. Female characters can be alphas, male characters can get pregnant if you wish, and same-sex pairings are perfectly viable.
- If your character has animal characteristics they aren't necessarily locked into traits of that animal. For example, a catgirl and a mouse girl don't have to see each other as predator and prey if you don't want them to.
- You can leave your comment blank or come up with a basic set-up. However, it's probably helpful to put what kind of animal features (if any) your character has.]
beyourguide: (orly?)

Tifa Lockheart/Final Fantasy VII/Crisis Core (no smut)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-09 10:28 am (UTC)(link)
[There is a little black and brown mix kitten with startling red eyes stalking her way through the long grass. She's a long way from home and awfully small to be out in the wilds, still mostly kitten fluff and needle claws and teeth. That's beside the point though because at the moment this tiny kitten is dealing with a much larger threat, one that could possibly hold the fate of the entire world in the balance.

Because there's a leaf. Caught on the edge of a blade of grass. And it's taunting her by fluttering erratically.

That leaf is so toast and it's all her kitten eyes are focused on in concentration as she slinks forward.]
meteorshots: (☞ I'm sorry)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-09 10:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ Apparently unaware of the universe's great and terrible peril, Cloud continues to graze his way mildly across the grassy plains. Out here, he can see for miles -- and though there's an uncomfortable sense of exposure that comes with the good foraging, he's also fairly secure in the knowledge that nothing bigger or meaner than him will be able to get too well within that distance without him knowing first.

Chocobos (even plain old yellow ones, with no special traits whatsoever) happen to have highly attuned personal radar for that sort of thing, you see.

Though sadly it doesn't extend to cats (or kittens) lurking just below his line of sight. So if he just so happens to -- purely accidentally -- run a boot tread over the end of someone's tail as he reaches for a particularly tasty looking crop of greens, it's no commentary on the situational awareness of the average chocobo. It's just that one does not find many kittens lurking out in the wilderness. Not with so many monsters around, at any rate.
]
beyourguide: (world caving in)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-09 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[Kittens are monsters! Or... at least slightly on par with very small versions of them. Funny blond chocobos should be much more wary of such small terrors.

Particularly when they're slinking along at foot level, far, far too intent on world salvation (or destruction (it's hard to tell most times)) to be paying attention to the fact that the grass around them is rustling and there might be a bit of a vibrating tread going on under their paws.

The step on her tail is the absolute height of unexpected (and totally undeserved) insult, even worse than the sharp pain and the screech Tifa lets out is as much furious protest as actual hurt.

The only sensible solution to a sudden, unexpected attack like that, of course, is to shoot up the nearest piece of furniture. Or, lacking that, the nearest leg.]
meteorshots: (☞ are you sure it's stress?)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-10 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's a good thing cat screeches don't sound much similar to any sort of battle cry he's ever heard, or his fight-or-flight would have kicked in a lot harder. Instead of alarming, though, the sound's just plain bewildering, high-pitched and painful (on both ends, it seems like). And Cloud chooses, instead of taking off and possibly trampling up the rest of her back, to stagger backwards, trip over the very same tangled clump of greens he was trying to get at in the process of stomping all over her tail, and fall flat on his ass in the high grass.

Even with the addition of a not particularly low-pitched wark, it's more or less the definition of anticlimactic.
]

Wh-Wha--

[ And the denouement, apparently, is finding himself in an ungainly sprawl, wings half crushed beneath his back, with not just a girl, but a girl of some other (obviously unstable) species clinging to his leg.

If that's not enough to ruin a guy's day, that is the very distinct sensation of claws, too, isn't it.
]

Hey! Let go!
Edited (shh i forgot a word) 2012-11-10 05:53 (UTC)
beyourguide: (someones in trouble)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-11 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Well, that was a bit of a failure. As far as trees or high, off the ground-tail-not-being-stepped-on places go, this leg is a total bust. It's hardly higher off the ground than she is on her legs.

Still... on the upside - her tail hasn't been stepped on since she latched on to it...

So the obvious answer is to hang on just a little tighter and narrow her eyes at the idea of this 'letting go' some voice speaks of. She's not scared though. Cats don't get scared. She's simply... decisive. As the head shake should prove.]


Nya!
meteorshots: (☈003)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-11 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ As the horror and agony of her terrific ambush begin to wear off, Cloud reclaims a tiny bit of his composure (see: recognizes that this is not a vicious predator cleaving onto him, and begins immediately to feel stupid). Reaching down to grab her by the scruff of her neck -- back of her jacket, same difference -- he winces and prepares for the worst as he tries to lift her off, himself.

The marked size difference between them ought to make this easy enough, in theory, but he really doesn't wanna know what it feels like to have those claws dig in any deeper.
]

I said let go!
beyourguide: (hips don't lie)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-11 08:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Listen, chocobo-boy, you do not want to try to budge this kitten. She is fierce and terrible and - and down right determined as only a cat/little kid can be. Raising your voice and manhandling her - watch the fur/jacket, buddy! - isn't winning this argument and, sensing the threat to her safe haven... or possibly just being innately obstinate because that's a very real possibility too, her little face tightens down and yes, yes those are tiny little needle claws preparing to dig in deeper on the ends of those tiny flexing fingers. There might even be a mouth latching on to his pant leg - be glad it's just the fabric as the ears flick flat and outward.]

Mmmya!
meteorshots: (☈058)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-13 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ ...Actually, that's not nearly as painful as he was expecting. It's more irritating, than anything, and while his preemptive grimace retreats, the frown stays fixed firmly in place. This isn't a life-threatening position, anymore, but it's still bordering on way unpleasant.

Seeing that his first approach isn't going to work and not wanting to inadvertently tear a few new holes in his pantleg, Cloud relents.
]

Fine.

[ But don't think he isn't regrouping, either, cat! ]

But you have to let go of me, sometime.
beyourguide: (victory stretch)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-13 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Her sniff of unimpressediness says it all when it comes to his threat and she just flexes her small fingers in the fabric of his pants leg and settles in to prove him wrong.

Oh so very, very wrong.

...

...
.
.
.

Except he's boring! And hanging on to his pants leg soon gets boring too. So, without warning, she suddenly lets go and springs off like a clothes pin rebelling against its function in life. Did you see that, chocobo boy? Did you? Because that was her totally letting go because she wanted to NOT because you told her to.

Because that's just how this kitten rolls.

Point proved, it's also time to sit down and immediately start smoothing her hair and ears back into place too because, really, he made a real mess of her with all his bouncing around and manhandling. That goes double for the tail!]
meteorshots: (☞ how are you not murdered every hour)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-15 07:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's a good thing his Blank StareTM is well and practiced; the effort pays off quicker than he was hoping it would, and the very instant his leg is free, Cloud pulls it back and -- along with the other -- up to his chest.

Doubly lucky is that the weird little predator he -- accidentally! -- stepped on (and they're even for that, as far as he's concerned, when those little pinprick clawmarks smart) seems to have lost even the remotest interest in him. It's a relief. Rubbing a hand over the small of his back, which feels probably definitely bruised, he frowns his last at the non-threat now ignoring him before turning back to more pressing matters.

The greens are totally squashed, a lost cause, and that's pretty disappointing -- so he sets in on the meticulous task of preening his badly ruffled wings, instead. Broad yellow feathers scatter all around as he flaps his wings impatiently, alternately reaching back over and under his shoulders to pluck out the loosest ones.

It's a mess.

And it's all that weird little monster's fault.
]

Hmph.
beyourguide: (pretty please)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-15 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
[She is the very model of self-absorption, all her apparent focus fixed on each little bit of hair or fur that may be out of place and the blond boy right next to her might as well be on another planet for all she acknowledges his existence. A cat's just not right unless it's got itself together and for Tifa that goes double for her fur. Oh, she's a little monster all right and at the moment she's a little monster of CLEANING TERROR!

Cleaning's serious business, yo.

The smoothing fury lasts straight up until chocobo boy starts flapping around and she catches the movement of those feathers from the corner of one eye.

Oh. Ohhhhh....

Ruby clear eyes wide, she watches in utter fascination for a long moment as yellow fluff fills the whole world from her much shorter viewpoint. It's like that shredded pillow from last week only so SO much better! It only takes a little shift on her part and then she's launching herself with hardly any crouch time at all, fingers (and claws) spread wide to catch at the tickling tips of those glorious feathers.

Really... in retrospect, he should have seen this coming a mile away.]


MYAaaaaaaa!
meteorshots: (☈001)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-15 08:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ There are things Cloud's good at, but seeing other things coming is not way up there on the roster. If he was a psychic, his claim to fame would probably be predicting the exact opposite of the future. So it's not really his fault that he doesn't realize he's about to be ambushed--

Until the very last second, at least.

One of a chocobo's many saving graces, for being so outwardly flighty and/or completely belligerent, is an acute awareness of looming predators. (Even tiny ones.) An instant after her pounce, he's launching himself up to his feet, narrowly missing the nasty snag of claws in the solid plumage of his wings.

She's rewarded with the few spare feathers left to be molted, and he gets a whole step away from his assailant before tumbling headfirst back into the tall grass with an anticlimactic Oof.
]

Ugh...

[ Open hostilities cease, briefly, as pushes up onto an elbow, one hand going to his head as he tugs halfheartedly on the ankle tangled in the weeds -- but not for much longer than that, as he shoots a glare back over his shoulder, once at least a few of his wits are about him. ] Hey! Leave me alone!
beyourguide: (orly?)

http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/coffeechica/435677/60133/60133_original.gif

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-15 08:52 am (UTC)(link)
[It's glorious!

The feathers he leaves behind are more than enough to delight her, big and bright and so - so floofy! They wisp upward as she strikes them with her hands and her delightedly laughter at that comes easily. Yes, yes of course she's a serious predator with serious predatory ways. It's just - they're so fun!

So she's aware, vaguely, of when he goes over, but there's still a long moment when dancing with the feathers is much more important than anything else in the world. His shout brings her back to the immediate though, causing her ears to flatten and a startled jerk through her that tufts up the feathers in the air again and she turns wide, huge eyes on him in surprise as one of the downier feathers drifts down to land in her dark hair.

He... really doesn't seem very graceful. Which is weird to her. But she does recognize his tangled ankle because she often gets tangled up in yarn herself and while it's fun at first the look on his face says it's moved into the frustrating stage and that's when things aren't fun anymore. So she hops the single hop it takes to reach his leg and sits down on it, small fingers going to work on the tangled weeds with surprising dexterity and efficiency. She'll go back for her feather treats in just a minute. First things first. Games aren't fun if someone isn't enjoying playing them. Sure, he said to go away but since when did a cat listen to someone else's idea of what should and shouldn't be done when they know better?]


Soooo noisy.
meteorshots: (☞ I made one tiny mistake)

i can't stop watching that now it's too perfect

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-18 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ She might not even know he exists, anymore, but when he hears that laugh-- Cloud cringes a little further inward, where he's sprawled out lengthwise across the ground. That hurt (not much, but a little, enough to wound his pride at least), and it wasn't funny, putting bruises on top of bruises.

So if he's defensive, when she finally takes notice of him, again, it may be a bit much -- but he isn't exactly feeling his confidence.
]

Hu--! Don't!

[ There's nowhere to retreat to, with his ankle caught up in the grass, but he makes a valiant effort to jerk out of the weeds' tangled grasp as she bounds toward him again. He hasn't done anything to incite another attack, but she hasn't given him any reason to expect anything else (not that he's exactly been extending the olive branch of peace, himself, fighting with her, fighting with the green stuff bound up around his leg -- beside the point as it is). That weight settles back on him before he can ward it off, though, and then the claws set in.

...To the leafy green menace latched onto his limb, separating the binding strands easily. Once he's free, Cloud pulls his knees up and scoots back an inch. With one uncertain flap of his wings, he ducks his head.
] Um. Thanks.
beyourguide: (soft smile)

I almost got sucked in just finding the darn thing. It's hypnotic

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-19 08:24 am (UTC)(link)
[She's up and off him the second he starts to reclaim his leg with a little bounce of her own, feeling very satisfied with herself. It's much easier to untangle someone else than it is yourself and it makes her feel as if she's Good. She also understands however that sometime's when you've been caught doing something embarrassing, you need to pretend it wasn't and wash your fur to prove it and that's the Sign for everyone to ignore it as well and give you your space for a minute. So she's not at all bothered by his inching away and, luckily for him, has already politely turned her attention elsewhere and misses the flapping of those glorious wings. The breeze from them does stir her loose feathers again though and she gives a little shrug and a:]

meh. [Because polite cats don't make a big deal about things like that before hopping the several hops over to the feathers she had to abandon to begin picking them up in her small hands while making pleased little throaty noises of pure joy. She's never had so many fluffy feathers to play with all for herself before in her whole wide life and she makes it a game to pounce them as she collects each and every single one she can find until her hands and the pockets of her jumper are full (admittedly not hard considering how small both areas are when it comes to holding capacity). She's not entirely unaware of him no matter how much indication she gives that she is though and so she adds, since he was nice enough to give them to her in the first place.]

Sooo pretty!
meteorshots: (☈003)

p sure that's what the cats want

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-19 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ There are a whole lot of things about this situation that are making him uncomfortable, but being ignored isn't one of them. Actually, it helps. ...In its own, weird way. He doesn't have to worry about falling into further ridicule when she's not even looking his direction. Even the lack of response with regards to his stilted thanks is fine, just keeping the status quo.

Combing his fingers hastily out through his hair, Cloud dislodges another couple of feathers from the downy crests poking back over his ears. Lucky for him (and her apparently just as scattered attention), they're no more than fragments of down, and nothing compared to the ones from the ends of his wings. They catch briefly in the thick fabric of his scarf, and he brushes them off incidentally as he drops his arms.

At which point, he realizes he doesn't really know what to do, next. She still isn't pestering him, idly collecting those useless, shed feathers, but he isn't so sure he should just run off without clearing this whole situation up. (He wouldn't want to come back to one of his regular grazes to find a whole nest of pointy-toed, jumpy things waiting to fend him off. And a misunderstanding like this seems like a pretty good way to make that happen.) And then -- there's the matter of those greens, too...

The ones he didn't trample look appetizing enough, yet, and he scoots over to start picking through the remainders with something that's almost enthusiasm. At least until she's saying something -- maybe to him -- and he stalls again awkwardly, glancing back over his shoulder--

Her pockets are stuffed with what looks like half her weight in fluffy yellow stuff. Maybe that's why he can't think of anything to say. (It's almost funny.)
]

Wh-What?
beyourguide: (girls just wanna have fun)

all part of the master plan that involves world domination and zero actual effort

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-19 09:16 am (UTC)(link)
[She's got very good ears and if he was paying attention, which he's luckily not, he'd realize they're swiveling and perking at his rustling moves for all that she's apparently focused entirely on those feathers he's left for her to make a game of finding. She's still young and fairly fearless, aware in the abstract only that there are creatures out there that would find a little kitten a tasty snack and just because he's impressively larger and has more bulk - especially with his wings - doesn't register him as a threat to her mind. The tail stepping incident is vaguely forgotten and besides, the pain itself is associated with some invisible horrible monster who torments young kittens somewhere in her mind where she's bothered to think about it and monsters like that only exist when no one else is around.

Last of the feathers gathered up, and some still caught in the silk strands of her dark hair and just waiting for the moment of reveal to drive her into a frenzy, she spins to face him when he finally speaks. Because that means he's done resettling himself and it's okay to acknowledge him again and she's a very friendly kitten so she's been waiting for that. The grin she gives him is huge and bright as she laughs and skips a few steps back toward him, waving the feathers in both hands like some kind of golden pompom.]


Pretty! They're sooo pretty. Light like dandelion fuzz and sunshine patch colored. [another shake because they really do catch the sunlight nicely and she likes the way the larger ones wave.] Someone must have loved you a whole lot to give you so many!
meteorshots: (and insecurity)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-19 09:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ He shrugs back when she bounces closer over the thoroughly flattened grass, drawing in with a fistful of springy, leafy greens clutched in one glove. ]

Pretty?

[ Whatever her species, they must be badly misinformed on the hierarchy of chocobos. Maybe if he'd been born a green, or a blue (or a gold, but even in his dreams that's a long shot, impossible to imagine), there would be some kind of merit to the claim. But plain suits his plumage far better than even such an embarrassing compliment as that. As "pretty."

There's something unpleasantly like the heat of a blush sinking into his skin, but he dutifully ignores that, too, and tucks his head lower behind the top of his scarf at the same time his wings curl in closer against his back.
]

I guess -- I got them from my mom. She's the same color as me.
beyourguide: (orly?)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-19 12:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's not sure why he's shrinking or going pink so instead of calling him on it, she simply pretends not to notice again. It seems the most polite thing to do until she can figure out why he moves in funny ways from what she's used to. It's certainly not a crouch, that's for sure, so she doesn't bother crouch as well, instead still doing a little erratic shifting that's not close enough to walking and so probably needs the label, very loosely, of dancing. The feathers keep getting shaken as she talks and her eyes are never entirely off of them. Still - she recognized mothers. Mothers are the best thing ever. Like princesses only even better.

One day she's going to find hers, wherever 'beyond the mountain' is...

It's easier to think about his.]


She must be beautifuuul then. I bet she is. As beautiful as you are but beautiful like a girl instead. I bet she gives you feathers anytime you ask and doesn't even care if you lose them under the sofa. It must be nice to have so many feathers in the house. I bet it's hard to sleep.
meteorshots: (☞ or when we're bored)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-20 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
That's not-- Really how it works...

[ He's old enough to grow his own feathers, thank you kindly, and even so he's none too sure why he'd ever want to take them from his mom. She's got plenty of her own, and that distribution seems fair, because every bird has to have its feathers, even if they're plain, bland, old yellow and you can't swim or hike or fly any better than the next guy. It's a stunningly uncomplicated equation, but, then, interspecies relations aren't exactly within the scope of his general experience.

Unless you count the diplomatic endeavor of turning tail and running at the first sign of trouble. (One he's never quite gotten down, perhaps, clear in his negligence right here and now, but still the go-to chocobo principle.)

Shuffling through the meager handful of greens he managed to collect before she started in on him, again, Cloud picks out a particularly leafy bit and sticks the end in his mouth. Chewing away dedicatedly, he eyes the remainder of the patch still rooted to the ground -- instead of making eye contact with her.
]

What's a... 'Sofa,' anyway?
beyourguide: (lost and lonely)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-20 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
[She pretty much lets the 'not how it works' drift right over her head. Because until she sees it working otherwise her summary just makes the most sense to her and besides, she's used to people using the 'not how it works' to get around letting her do things she wants to do and so of course it's easier to ignore and just continue on with her own plans. She doesn't mind though because she's got TONS of pretty feathers to wave and that's what's really most important out of all of this. Happy, she takes to hopping to the side each time she waves them, switching which side she hops to randomly to amuse herself. She's a polite kitten though and so she still listens. It's important to listen when people talk to you. It makes them feel good. Her eyes stay on the feathers though because direct eye contact too long means he has to respond and she's not sure he knows how to play properly, especially at his size. She doesn't think his question about the sofa is strange. Lots of the people she talks too don't seem to know what a lot of the things she talks about are.]

Ooooh. It's a big comfortable chair with lots of cushions to hide behind and a really tall back to stand on so you can see everything! But it sometimes eats toys and stuff and I'm too big to fit under it anymore. And I'm not supposed to use my claws on it either even though it's the perfect height for claws and why else would they put those posts on either side of it covered in fabric? Would you put fabric on posts if it wasn't for clawing? Me either! But good kittens don't so I can't. [there was a little entirely heartfelt sigh at that and she even stopped feather shaking and hopping for just a moment in mournful sorrow at a playtime taken away before it was fully exercised. It only lasted a moment though and then she was distracted by a beetle on a stalk of grass nearby that she had to crouch down to watch, ears pricked forward.] What do you sit on when you're home if you don't have a sofa?
meteorshots: (☞ I wonder who he ran over then)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-20 07:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ Most of what she says flies a lot too high for him to catch, especially considering that explanation is basically just a jumbled mess of semi-anecdotal rambling. Trying to follow it is a pointless effort, though he does his best, for politeness' sake. The mental image he's left with, at the end, resembles more closely some eldritch horror of upholstery with great big wooden stakes for arms -- but he already knows humans are into some weird things. It's not a surprise that what they keep in those huts of theirs is no less so.

Biting off the end of his frilly stalk of green stuff, he chews and swallows (also polite) before opening his mouth again. He points to the ground with his empty hand. What else is there to sit on?
]

The ground. I don't live in a house.
beyourguide: (Default)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-23 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
You don't have a house?

[That has her full and complete attention and she looks at him with huge stricken red eyes, horrified for him. Even her ears droop just a little to the sides as she contemplates this deepest of tragedies. But... but that means he doesn't have a closet to hide in, or a bed to hide under or curtains to climb or windowsills to sit on or a delicious bowl of milk each night just before bed or -

Her heart utterly breaks for him and his deprived life. And yet - she's a cat and she understands a thing or two about pride. Which is what has her taking a moment to collect herself by cleaning an ear again, shoving feathers down the side of her jumper to keep them safe while she does so. She knows some people don't have houses. It's just -

it's just not polite to talk about that. Cats are good with words, or that's what her father says so she does her best recovery.]


But you've got a home, right? Somewhere you can be with your mom, right? 'Cause that's what's really important.
meteorshots: (☈004)

[personal profile] meteorshots 2012-11-23 08:10 am (UTC)(link)
No.

[ Like most animals do, to the best of his knowledge, chocobos live simply, off the land; anything else would seem weird. Even if maybe he's heard of some birds who have taken to human care, raised from chicks or lured in by sweet greens -- that's all somewhere far-off, mountain ranges and continents and probably a few planes of reality away, in the same place the boogey-monsters live (and he doesn't believe in those anymore, either, because he's no downy chick and hasn't been for years).

That there are those other than humans who frequent indoors is the stuff of myth and mystery, not to be considered by simpler creatures with more realistic concerns.

And so he watches her odd display with a look that's a little flat (taking another bite of his green meal, in the process), not comprehending the depth of her concern for his houselessness.
]

Um, sure I do. I live with the rest of the herd. We-- Move around a lot, but mostly we stick together.
beyourguide: (pretty please)

[personal profile] beyourguide 2012-11-29 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's still feeling very, very bad for him because not having a desk full of papers to lie on in the middle of the day sounds very, very sad but she knows, even at her age, that some things are just not talked about. So instead she takes another hop toward him, holding out one of his feathers for him. Sure, he's got plenty but the point of giving a gift isn't the gift - it's the giving part and she really doesn't have anything else to offer him since she left all of her string at home. She does look around, though the tall grass severely limits her line of vision, more than enough to miss what might or might not be a threatening dark smudge on the horizon. She didn't see any other birds when she came out this way.]

But you're all alone.

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