[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: auto][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; borderwidth: 0px; float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 5px; background:url(http://images.8tracks.com/cove…m=jpg&fit=max&w=320&h=320); background-position: center; background-size: 100% 100%;][/fancypost][justify][size=7pt][font=verdana]Irin could barely recall anything beyond coming to this place. She couldn't remember what had caused the wounds, for all she knew, she could have done it to herself. Why she would do that, she didn't know. But-given the circumstances-it was possible.
She was still adjusting to the temperature, shivering ever so often when a particularly cold gush of wing passed by. She'd retreated to the safety of the barn they called home, but the air still chilled her skin, leading her to curl up and nuzzle her nose into her tail. With the thick tuft of fur around her neck, you'd think it was difficult for her to get cold, but it was quite the opposite. Neither a lion or a leopard had a very thick pelt, even when they were combined. Still, she was grateful for the 'mane' she had, even though it did puzzle others when she was a female.
Lifting her head, her ear swerved at the muffled squeak of a mouse, hidden away in a darkened corner, the sound triggering a rumble from her stomach. How long had it been since she'd last eaten? She wasn't sure, though she was certain of the raking hunger pains. The feline crouched down and searched the dark, spotting the ball of brown fur among some straws of hay. Her tongue swiping across her lips, she crept up on the unsuspecting prey, pushing back to spring herself into the air and landing with her paws on top of the mouse. It began to wildly squeal, causing a small pang of guilt in her chest.
Maybe it was why she lifted her paws, allowing it to scurry off. She'd just have to eat what the others brought in, she supposed.
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