Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2018 12:23:10 GMT
sweet-briar rose,
Like a raging wildfire, curiosity burns her insides until she wanders around the lake to a more river filled area. She's drawn by the perfume of orchids and primroses, gently wafting through the breeze and calling her like one of the sweet lullabies her mother used to sing.
The grass is soft against her little pink paw pads, bright green and healthy thanks to the water that flows through creeks and streams through this area. On her way past some yarrow, she picks up the distinct smell of more cats, no doubt the scent of those 'wild-cats' she's heard so much about. The first thing she notices is watermint, a distinctively river-smell that must come with living in an area like this.
Her eyes sparkle, brighter than the most polished of sapphires, and she begins to wander further into the territory, a mixture of fear and excitement curling inside the pit of her stomach— the prospect of meeting those apart of tales she's admired for moons making her more radiant than a greenleaf sun, yet the dark concept of them being unwelcoming colder than leafbare snow.
Linea pauses her bouncing gait, feathery tail brushing against the ground as she sits down and takes a look around, the beech and willow trees cresting across the shimmering blue sky, light bouncing off of clear brooklets. It's gorgeous, with bushes of varieties of wildflowers, and the ever present sound of running water soothes the most anxious of souls.
She has to think for a moment;
Which way should she go next?
The grass is soft against her little pink paw pads, bright green and healthy thanks to the water that flows through creeks and streams through this area. On her way past some yarrow, she picks up the distinct smell of more cats, no doubt the scent of those 'wild-cats' she's heard so much about. The first thing she notices is watermint, a distinctively river-smell that must come with living in an area like this.
Her eyes sparkle, brighter than the most polished of sapphires, and she begins to wander further into the territory, a mixture of fear and excitement curling inside the pit of her stomach— the prospect of meeting those apart of tales she's admired for moons making her more radiant than a greenleaf sun, yet the dark concept of them being unwelcoming colder than leafbare snow.
Linea pauses her bouncing gait, feathery tail brushing against the ground as she sits down and takes a look around, the beech and willow trees cresting across the shimmering blue sky, light bouncing off of clear brooklets. It's gorgeous, with bushes of varieties of wildflowers, and the ever present sound of running water soothes the most anxious of souls.
She has to think for a moment;
Which way should she go next?
linea
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