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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2019 2:02 am
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He hadn't been feeling so hot for the last several weeks. If anything, he'd gotten systematically worse before he'd gotten better. Ever since he'd fallen into that lake he'd been left out of sorts. He had been viciously unwell to the point that he'd had to take refuge and simply stop while he recovered... And had it not been for a good Samaritan he might have been dead.
He hadn't quite known who the Samaritan was at the time that she had intervened, and throughout the worst of his illness he had been unable to focus on who or what she was. It had only been after the fever had passed that he had been able to realise that he'd been discovered by what he assumed was a hybrid. She was stockier than most lions, lacked quite as much fur upon her head, and carried herself in a different way.
Her modesty became her though, despite his gratitude she had waved it off and just like every other day, she had padded off to at least attempt to find food. The only time she'd remotely chastised him was when he was finally coherent enough to understand he had picked the worst spot to fall over...But she'd managed, and he was grateful.
Now left to his own devices though he was provided with the opportunity to at least admire his surroundings, or lack-thereof. He'd noticed some things of interest when he'd first woken up but the more he stayed here, the more he realised that the Savannah might have had character...he just didn't like it.
It was just so beige.
Colourless.
Had no character...
Well, anyone who could hear his thoughts would have got the picture as he gazed out sullenly towards the horizon. He was still a long way off where he needed to be and there were no signs that he would be getting there soon. If there was ever a time for delays it wasn't now, not really, not when he needed to find out if the whispers and rumours had been true and the possibility of recovering his homeland remained a within touching distance...
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Posted: Mon Mar 04, 2019 12:30 am
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Snowflake - as she was commonly referred to - was so young when she had last seen the Bahari's white beaches. Even if she had been born on the shores the smell of the salt in the area had been reduced to a faint memory, the curls in her white coat had flattened out into dense fur. The last reminiscence of her cubhood days being the small curl to the tuft of mane that always covered her oddly colored eye and the fact that her coat always had a slightly more soft and full appearance compared to those who had lived in the Savannah.
Course not like many could see her natural coat under the heavy ash and iron rich dust she religiously coated her body in. Her mother had always told her that people with her coat colors were cursed beings, doomed to bring misfortune and and ruin to those around them. In many ways she thought it as superstition. However after the horrors that had accorded in her previous home there was no doubting that it was far too dangerous to go walking around the Roguelands without proper disguising and protection.
There was a small part of her buried deep away that wondered if the superstition had been founded on some truths. Perhaps due to outside influence and the hysteria caused by such beliefs misfortune was something that followed those like her.
Either way, she had decided to limit her contact with others to keep them out of harm's way. If doom was going to follow her, least it affect just herself. What she didn't calculate is that her past would be coming back to haunt her!
There wasn't any particular place she had been wandering idly to. Snowflake was using this time more or less to take in the sights and get a proper feeling on living on her own. Why her mother was never truly too far away (she was far too much of a protective parent not to be within a day's travel!) she was fully expected to know how to hunt and fend for herself out in the wild. She had been taught to be constantly observant of her surroundings. She had taken up people watching as a odd past time, even if it had often lead to her being a bit of a loner.
At first she brushed of the flaming orange and yellow hair. There were plenty of rogues out in this area who either had ties to the Firekin or was just blessed enough to seemingly carry fire in their genetics. It was the mixture of orange, yellow, white, and curls that had caught her attention. There was only one person she had ever encountered in her lifetime that had such a striking combination.
But where was his much lighter colored counterpart? And more importantly why was he out here?
Letting out a course 'hmm' in the back of her throat she pressed forward. Unabashedly striding her way up to him. "Huo," She called out, her monotone voice cutting through the normal dim hustle and bustle sounds of the Savannah.
"You're quite a fair ways from home, and you seem to be missing someone attached to your hip," She pointed out as her paw gestured over his dazed and oddly skinnier than normal self. "What happened?"
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