can you hear the stars singing? // private

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    As far as Wolfsbane was concerned, the hunting trip had been a complete failure. He'd managed to catch a bird, but it was scrawny, especially compared to everyone else's catches—and on the way back to their current camp, he and the others had ran across a group of rogues. The rogues had attacked, obviously intent on stealing their prey, and during the fight, not only had Wolfsbane lost his bird (he hoped the damned rogue choked on it) but he'd received a nasty cut on one leg. It still hadn't stopped bleeding. He knew exactly what his parents would have to say about that, and it wasn't going to be fun. If he was lucky, Liverpool would let one of the girls heal him. If not, his father might decide that a cat who was weak enough to get injured and have his prey stolen didn't deserve herbs, and he'd have to try to get back into his father's good graces before infection set in.


    Hanging back, Wolfsbane waited for his brothers to entered the camp first. Hopefully, their arrival would distract the family, and no one would pay any attention to him when he finally limped in.

    BUT NO ONE ELSE CAN SEE THE PRESERVATION OF THE MARTYR IN ME

            

    Darn rogues. Decided to attack them and steal some of their prey. The tom grumbled, shouldering into the camp first, large ears flattened to his skull. His stubby tail flicked back and forth, ochre gaze swinging around the area with a loud grumble exiting his throat.

    Speech