ALONE. FOREVER...

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    There he was, Zaceon. The large feline had been wandering the cities alone for several days now and was beginning to lose hope. He sheathed and unsheathed his claws, wondering with a miserable sigh what the things were really meant for.


    Zaceon had never been a talkative kind of guy. But he'd had friends. Good friends. Gone now, anyway. So Zaceon had turned bitter. "To live," he growled to himself quietly. "Is it just survival? Or something else? Does it even matter?" That was likely enough. The cat frowned, and spotted some meat. It was ignored. Zaceon was not hungry. He barely felt hungerb anymore. Or emotions. So perhaps survival wasn't living.


    Well, if anyone came for the food, Zaceon would courageously fight for it, even if really he wasn't bothered anymore. It was probably better to have a reputation for being savage and dangerous rather than softhearted and feeble.


    And - if they didn't, Zaceon would have some peace. And maybe that would please him.

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 500px; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 7pt;][justify]Eric had been atop of a roof of a shack, and when seeing the large feline growl and pass by a piece of meat, he instantly knew something was up. Eric lifted an eyebrow and bounded over. He was probably just a tad bigger because he was a twenty-five pound Maine Coon with prettyboy features. [b]"Hello."[/b]