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    [fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px;][justify][size=8][font=arial]Inspired by the most recent happenings in his home, Forgingcub was filled with patriotic fire and the desire to be helpful. And what better way than to ask Imperialstar himself? The infamous leader was sort of an idol for young Forgingcub, especially since Jace was, in the kid's opinion, doing a crap job at parenting. The liger was without anyone to talk to or anyone to please. So he had to find his own role model, hence his near infatuation with the leader.


    "I want to help!" the youth announced broadly, failing to put much thought into how he wanted help. He just knew that the motivation was there. But motivation for what exactly?

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    Anna smiled brightly at the cub' s enthusiasm. I could always use some help- but I don't think that's what you meant. The nurse purred softly. He was a fighter- she could tell by looking at his soul.




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    [align=center][size=4pt][color=white](c) BRIGHTY    [/size]

    [size=8]" What do you mean? " unaware that he was a sort of role model for the younger children, Imperialstar acted the way he always had, with no limits on his behaviour nor his opinions when he moved or spoke. To some, his actions could be perceived as harmful or influential in the bad way; but he was not aiming to be a paragon. He wasn't expecting people to look up to him.


    The serval approached on small paws, taking a seat near Annabelle and watching the cub with narrowed olive eyes.
    [color=transparent][size=2px] #rabimperialmind

    [fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px;][justify][size=8][font=arial]His soft heart betrayed him. At the sight of Annabelle, the intense expression he wore faltered and was momentarily replaced with a sweet, inviting smile. "Not really," he replied a bit sheepishly. "But I'd be happy to help if you ask, Miss Anna." He'd been watching plenty romantic comedies to know how to correctly use his manners, especially when addressing a lady. Maybe Forge didn't have a dad, but James Bond was a good enough substitute for the essentials.


    And then Imperialstar arrived. The cub visibly straightened, trying to make himself appear as mature and strong as he could. But that effort was undermined by the tufts of white fur sticking out haphazardly along his jaw like he got struck by a bolt of lightening. Forgingcub was momentarily stunned by the bluntness of his idol's question, but the words found him soon enough. "Sending messages, doing chores, spying." he listed off, emphasizing the latter not because forge was "hinting" at it but because his youthful mind held it as some kind of romantically dangerous thing. He watched way too many spy movies for his own good. In truth, he'd be happy doing anything Imperialstar said, even dancing in a froofy pink tutu.

    [size=8]Hmph. He saw the way the cub's demeanour changed at his presence, took in the dishevelled appearance all the same, and nodded once. He lifted a paw, licked it once, them aimed to push it along Forge's jawline and smooth down the tufts of unkempt fur that ruffled a smooth angle. " If you wanted any of this, you'd need a little training, beforehand. Something, anything. Endurance, lying, strength, speed, intelligence. " Rainpaw hadn't had much, but she'd had some, and her charisma had carried her the rest of the way. Forgingcub seemed like a better mannered version of a younger him: hotheaded, opinionated, destined to rule even if ruling wasn't where he'd do best.


    " You would be a help, though. I've seen what you're capable of. " killing two adults was no small feat. " I'm willing to give a little if you are. I whip you into shape, you bring enemies to heel. "
    [color=transparent][size=2px] #rabimperialmind

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=#1c1c1c; border: 5px solid #151515; width: 470px; min-height: 300px; padding: 0px; padding-top: 20px][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 470px; height: 60px; padding: 0px; font-family: baskerville old face; color: #8A0808; font-size: 40px; line-height: 40px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -4px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px black]dancingcub[fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 470px; height: 20px; font-size: 20px; line-height: 20px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: -8px]these flames, they burn right through, could burn us alive[/fancypost][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; border: 3px solid #151515; width: 500px; height: 20px; padding: 0px; background: url(http://oi60.tinypic.com/167wf39.jpg); margin-left: -18px][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=#151515; border: none; width: 470px; height: 27px; padding: 0px; font-family: verdana; color: #e6e6e6; font-size: 10px; line-height: 24px; text-align: center]female - 7 months - apprentice - tiger[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 450px; min-height: 152px; padding: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #a4a4a4; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify;]dancingcub padded over with a small smile. Spying? How fun... She blinked slowly and flicked her tail, drawing a tongue across her maw as she shuffled her paws. She would love the chance to drag an enemy over to ColouredClan and claw their face off. She wrinkled her nose and sneezed, her tail swishing across the ground.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px;][justify][size=8][font=arial]The actions of the stoic leader was more than enough to momentarily paralyze Forgingcub. Simple gestures like that were all but foreign to the adolescent male. he'd only seen random acts like that in movies where the parent was fussing over their young, and Forge never had the pleasure of a parent fussing over him. Even if Jace was a permanent resident of Colouredclan, the actual cheeto was positive his pops was far too chill to ever do something like fuss over his offspring.


    He coughed awkwardly, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm always willing to learn, sir!" that was a good response, right? Was it too honest though? Forgingcub really wanted to help, so it wasn't a lie. But was his naive eagerness too much? Damned if he knew. "Thank you, sir." the liger cub dipped his head respectfully, partially because he felt it was the proper thing to do and partially because he wanted to hide the guilty look that crossed his features at the mention of his double-kill. Hopefully he didn't kill any of his friends on accident, because maker only knows if he'd be able to control his anger once set off.


    At the arrival of the young tigress, Dancingcub, Forge offered a slight wave. he wanted to be friendly and bubbly, but he was in cool guy mode. "Hello."