Cocky albino she-weasel tresspassing!

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    This is her ...

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    Blanc ran through the seemingly tall, arid smelling grass, she was searching for a meal. She sensed that she passed a scent barrier but she ignored it, no one could notice her, right?

    Well a white weasel can be easily seen, since her pelt color was white. The cave-warden caught the quick white flash before his eyes before he was pounding after her.

    Omorthan skidded to a stop, looking down at the creature. "Well who re you?" the red tom growled slightly.

    Blanc was a weird name, but Omorthan didn't say it out loud. He moved in closer to smell the creature, strange in its appearance and size. "What are you?"

    So this is what she was. A weasel. It sounded strange in his mind, and he made no effort to say the specie name out name. "I'm a cat, don't you know?" Omorthan said with a sigh, looking down at the white animal.

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    "Well, some of us." Pastel's voice came from the cave as she curiously examined the strange-looking creature, wondering why it could speak in cat. The solid cream's sea green eyes were focused on the two, crossing her white paws as her tan-tipped ear twitched, her head tilted.

    She looked to the newcomer, her salmon-pink eyes curious. Her tail twitched slightly, feeling somewhat outnumbered, she shook the thought from her head and wrapped her white tail around her paws.

    He didn't greet the she-cat from Skulls. Omorthan had no reason to. He despise the she-cats, even if Scythe had changed a bit of the rules. There was no going back on his thinking. The red tom only gave Pastel a glance before answering, "Some live in groups, like I do. Others can be roamers in lands."