Post by zagger on Oct 24, 2008 8:42:20 GMT -5
follow the yellow brick road,
cause you're off to see the wizard
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As the sunshine poured down on her, Dhalia gulped it down with a precious, delicate smile. Lying down in a field off the side of a brick road, the kitten absorbed the last of the sunshine, for soon the cold winter months would come. Dhalia remembered those months, the few months following her birth, but she'd tried to forget it all. Or most of it, at least. But Dhalia remembered the individual flakes that would burn in a cold way on the top of her nose. The Humans always took them inside, following extra precautions.
This winter would be different. Her first winter...alone, physically anyways. Mentally she could create friendships, but life was so much crueller and bittersweet than that. Companions rarely came her way, at least that she knew of. She'd only ever socialized with her mother and thew odd stray cat wandering on the large property. But she'd never, ever, forget the stray kitten that had helped her around Nenbrook, that had tauht her basic suvival in the city.
Survival would be a priority, a deadly and fatal game if she played her hand wrong. Dhalia had to be able to feed herself, and to keep herself sheltered. To fight off against predator. It would not be easy, but Dhalia knew this was what her life had surcome to. A warrior's life, this was not meant for her when she'd been born. But following her mother's death, the game had ended. A new hand was dealt, and the bets were higher. The game was goldfish, it was blackjack. A game of chance and betting. A game of imperfection.
It was imperfection that Dhalia loved. Imperfect imperfection, indeed. It was (imperfect) imperfection that made life. That made death and sorrow, and made life and joy. For instance, to give birth is not perfect. There is never no machine you go through and you suddenly have a child. It is never clean.
Dhalia licked her soft fur clean as she stood up to begin her day. First, she planned on perhaps catching a fish. Surely there was a pond or such somewhere. Then, she'd go into the city. Find a home. Mark her territory.
The adoloscent feline smiled as she trotted on the old road. But with a gust of wind, she pushed herself into a full run. A fast pace, she could hunt in the wild with such vigour and passion. She would be the leader. The hunter, the wise one.
And suddenly she would be in the city, nose to nose with a handsome young kitten, give or take a few weeks off her age. Her short, shallow breaths came in and out fast in a hurry. She glanced up and stared him in the eye.
"Yes." Dhalia quickly mumbled, her eyes wide in shock and embaressment. They hadn't shared a conversation or greeting yet, and she said 'Yes'? What was that supposed to mean?
"Yes what, miss?" he raised an eyebrow in a peculiar way. What an interesting girl, he thought.
"Yes, to you taking me out to dinner tonight. Be here at five, sharp. If you don't know how to tell time, you're not my type. Bye!" she cleverly made a comeback. No stray knew how to tell time. She'd left without akwardness, right?
So why did Dhalia have feelings towards coming back tonight? It was more powerful then a thrill of cooked food. It was a strong, pulsing emotion, making her heart throb.
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[ooc: great minds think alike robin ;] do you want me to change the title?]]
cause you're off to see the wizard
---------------------------------------------------------------------
As the sunshine poured down on her, Dhalia gulped it down with a precious, delicate smile. Lying down in a field off the side of a brick road, the kitten absorbed the last of the sunshine, for soon the cold winter months would come. Dhalia remembered those months, the few months following her birth, but she'd tried to forget it all. Or most of it, at least. But Dhalia remembered the individual flakes that would burn in a cold way on the top of her nose. The Humans always took them inside, following extra precautions.
This winter would be different. Her first winter...alone, physically anyways. Mentally she could create friendships, but life was so much crueller and bittersweet than that. Companions rarely came her way, at least that she knew of. She'd only ever socialized with her mother and thew odd stray cat wandering on the large property. But she'd never, ever, forget the stray kitten that had helped her around Nenbrook, that had tauht her basic suvival in the city.
Survival would be a priority, a deadly and fatal game if she played her hand wrong. Dhalia had to be able to feed herself, and to keep herself sheltered. To fight off against predator. It would not be easy, but Dhalia knew this was what her life had surcome to. A warrior's life, this was not meant for her when she'd been born. But following her mother's death, the game had ended. A new hand was dealt, and the bets were higher. The game was goldfish, it was blackjack. A game of chance and betting. A game of imperfection.
It was imperfection that Dhalia loved. Imperfect imperfection, indeed. It was (imperfect) imperfection that made life. That made death and sorrow, and made life and joy. For instance, to give birth is not perfect. There is never no machine you go through and you suddenly have a child. It is never clean.
Dhalia licked her soft fur clean as she stood up to begin her day. First, she planned on perhaps catching a fish. Surely there was a pond or such somewhere. Then, she'd go into the city. Find a home. Mark her territory.
The adoloscent feline smiled as she trotted on the old road. But with a gust of wind, she pushed herself into a full run. A fast pace, she could hunt in the wild with such vigour and passion. She would be the leader. The hunter, the wise one.
And suddenly she would be in the city, nose to nose with a handsome young kitten, give or take a few weeks off her age. Her short, shallow breaths came in and out fast in a hurry. She glanced up and stared him in the eye.
"Yes." Dhalia quickly mumbled, her eyes wide in shock and embaressment. They hadn't shared a conversation or greeting yet, and she said 'Yes'? What was that supposed to mean?
"Yes what, miss?" he raised an eyebrow in a peculiar way. What an interesting girl, he thought.
"Yes, to you taking me out to dinner tonight. Be here at five, sharp. If you don't know how to tell time, you're not my type. Bye!" she cleverly made a comeback. No stray knew how to tell time. She'd left without akwardness, right?
So why did Dhalia have feelings towards coming back tonight? It was more powerful then a thrill of cooked food. It was a strong, pulsing emotion, making her heart throb.
---
[ooc: great minds think alike robin ;] do you want me to change the title?]]