Posts by Zenevieva

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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/.

  • JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY! | open + truth or dare!

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #171717; width: 430px; border: #111111 4px solid;][fancypost bgcolor=transparent borderwidth=0px; height: 130px; border-radius: 5px; border-top: 1px solid #efefef; border-bottom: 1px solid #efefef; width: 430px; margin-left: -15px; background-image: url(http://share-fastly.picmonkey.…/Z23H8s2oPsn_11385467.jpg); background-position: center;][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: center; font: 23pt Georgia; color: #F2F2F2; margin-top: -37px; margin-left: 140px;]Zenevieva.[/fancypost]

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    588




    TAGGING
    #Zenevivia




    BATTLE TAGS
    ♦ Zenevivia
    ♦ ShadowClan
    ♦ Kit
    ♦ hover for powers
    ♦ attack in #B5AE98.
    ♦ open for injury, request capture/kill.
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    		 [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; border: 1px solid #494949; background: #1f1f1f; padding:10px; font-size: 8pt; color:#808080; width:270px; height: 239px; overflow:auto;] It wasn't the boredom over-whelming her that lead Zenevieva to the truth or dare game, no, she wasn't that kind of kits. Neither was it the extroverted dazzling feelings in her paws; she was quite introverted, and preferred to spend her time in private or listening to the elders' stories, that activity in particular being one of her favorite things. And, it most certainly wasn't because she wanted to get herself in trouble; she much rather keep a clean record, the rules were there for a reason; and she wasn't in for the cliche "The rules were made to be broken". In fact, the reason the she-kit had found the game grab her attention was of he curiosity; not of the other players, nor of the gameplay. Much rather of herself, she always thought she had little to no secrets that she hadn't revealed; but a little bit inside of her knew that was false. Zenevieva's brain had a way of over-working itself and making her lie to herself, but that, of course, was a matter for a whole different time.




    As Zenevieva padded towards the group, her figure steady and her paws heavily pressuring themselves against the ground, small flowers rose from the ground, as she was still unsure just how to control her flower prints. Mostly consisting of bland colors, white; one was even gray, as would fit Zenevieva's personality, however, the sparks of beautiful colors were present, too. Hidden upon the mist of the black and white. As much as the young kit hated to admit it to herself, as the feeling; the taste, was disgusting against her tongue, she had a second side like most kits had; the little burst of youth that she wish she never had. As if she could skip childhood and move onto the warriorhood, she didn't like that trait. She hated it, and that was saying the bone-hard least.




    The flowers occasionally stopped, as if something had sparked; but like an old vehicle, the engine always started up again, and at the first little burst and incredible amount sparked. Zenevieva found herself almost tripping over those flowers several times. If she wasn't... well, Zenevieva, then she would've released several cusses and gotten quite irritated. But, despite those introverted, thinking minded stereotype, she was quite happy; not much even bothering her past the occasional up rawr. "Hold up!" She yowled in an alerting manner as she managed to get her paw wrapped within a tangle of flowers.




    Finally managing to grasp it out, she quickened her pace towards the group. The flower curled and tickled her paw pads. Now, not many cats knew this- to her own advantage- Zenevieva was extremely ticklish. Her eyes were starting to water slightly as she forced the giggles back, her pace forced slower. She couldn't let anyone know about how ticklish she could get, she could only imagine it being used against her... she hated getting tickled.




    Her paws were welcomed by the further details of the ground as her pace slowed more and more, like a car parked backwards. As her pace loosened, the details of all the animals gathered got clearer, and her breathing pace went from quick grasps to keep her going to more well spread, and, just, well, normal breaths. I'm really out of shape, She noted to herself in amusement as she looked at all the animals, forcing her tongue inbetween her teeth to stop herself from panting.




    Finally relieved, she nodded, "Mind if I join?"







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  • primadonna girl | open

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #171717; width: 430px; border: #111111 4px solid;][fancypost bgcolor=transparent borderwidth=0px; height: 130px; border-radius: 5px; border-top: 1px solid #efefef; border-bottom: 1px solid #efefef; width: 430px; margin-left: -15px; background-image: url(http://share-fastly.picmonkey.…/Z23H8s2oPsn_11385467.jpg); background-position: center;][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: center; font: 23pt Georgia; color: #F2F2F2; margin-top: -37px; margin-left: 140px;]Zenevivia.[/fancypost]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #333333; width: 120px; height: 235px; text-align:justify; font-size: 8pt; color:#E6E6E6; margin-left: -15px;]WORDS
    267




    TAGGING
    #Zenevivia




    BATTLE TAGS
    ♦ Zenevivia
    ♦ ShadowClan
    ♦ Kit
    ♦ hover for powers
    ♦ attack in #B5AE98.
    ♦ open for injury, request capture/kill.
    [/fancypost]

    		 [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; border: 1px solid #494949; background: #1f1f1f; padding:10px; font-size: 8pt; color:#808080; width:270px; height: 239px; overflow:auto;]"Greetings," Zenevieva meowed, her voice distant and smooth. The kit spent a lot more attention to her words than most, always trying her best to make them sound precise and accurate. It was a skill useful to a master manipulator, or a kit with far too much freetime on her paws, nonetheless, the skill was useful in its own little way. Zenevieva liked to think that, at least. It hadn't helped her directly yet, but she wasn't ready to let it go. She twitched her ear as a swat of snow landed upon the tip.




    "My name's Zenevieva," The orange tabby went on, smiling in a welcome fashion. Her tail-tip seemed to fidget, but otherwise nothing wavered her other than the wind and its amazing ability to sway her short fur. Speaking of short fur, it wasn't the best at keeping cold out, but the she-kit didn't mind, she preferred the cold, it relieved stress and for some odd reason she just felt at home when surrounded by the endless whiteness as the frostbite settled upon her paw pads.




    Her collar, a dark blue accessory against her neck tilted towards the right by a centimeter. She noticed that she was a lot unlike Skypaw, but she was quite used to that. As long as she could keep her voice at the correct frequency, her tone polite and her eyes gleamed with the kindness she would need. Forcing herself not to over-think it, she forced back the need to shrug, making herself feel more and more awkward in the situation, she wasn't precisely a social butterfly.




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  • UP ON THE HOUSETOP | Reindeer sighting!

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #171717; width: 430px; border: #111111 4px solid;][fancypost bgcolor=transparent borderwidth=0px; height: 130px; border-radius: 5px; border-top: 1px solid #efefef; border-bottom: 1px solid #efefef; width: 430px; margin-left: -15px; background-image: url(http://share-fastly.picmonkey.…/Z23H8s2oPsn_11385467.jpg); background-position: center;][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: center; font: 23pt Georgia; color: #F2F2F2; margin-top: -37px; margin-left: 140px;]Zenevieva.[/fancypost]

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    250




    TAGGING
    #Zenevieva




    BATTLE TAGS
    ♦ Zenevieva
    ♦ ShadowClan
    ♦ Kit
    ♦ hover for powers
    ♦ attack in #B5AE98.
    ♦ open for injury, request capture/kill.
    [/fancypost]

    		 [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; border: 1px solid #494949; background: #1f1f1f; padding:10px; font-size: 8pt; color:#808080; width:270px; height: 239px; overflow:auto;]Zenevieva was outside, her eyes on the reindeer; she knew it couldn't possibly be real, she didn't even believe in Santa; and, do she loved the snow she couldn't help but dislike Christmas. The kit's dislikings were very suttle, they were never full out cussed or shunned, just looked at with disrespect. The very fact that everybody went on and on about it for months before and after; it was just- odd. And as for Santa, she had just been raised not to believe in him; simple as that. She was never told about him, and the only evidence she had seen of him were cardboard cut-outs or cozy hats.




    She sighed, Zenevieva might as well play part in the goose hunt, after all; it did seem quite fun ,do she doubted it'd be that much to her as it would everyone else. Her eyes adjusted to her surrounding and her pupils sliced into lemon like figures as she tried to spot the distinct glowing red nose. The sharp red color was something that most animals had evolved to begin to find, even the most stupid of animals had it in their evolution. She suspected it was because of the danger of red things, nonetheless, she loved lady bugs; so, good job evolution. Couldn't you pick a color like vomit green instead?




    Unable to spot the red nose, the kit looked around for the horse she had seen galloping, instead. Nope. Couldn't see her, either. "Can anyone see the deer!?" [/fancypost]

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  • they are so wasted on myself | open

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #171717; width: 430px; border: #111111 4px solid;][fancypost bgcolor=transparent borderwidth=0px; height: 130px; border-radius: 5px; border-top: 1px solid #efefef; border-bottom: 1px solid #efefef; width: 430px; margin-left: -15px; background-image: url(http://share-fastly.picmonkey.…/Z23H8s2oPsn_11385467.jpg); background-position: center;][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: center; font: 23pt Georgia; color: #F2F2F2; margin-top: -37px; margin-left: 140px;]Zenevieva.[/fancypost]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: #333333; width: 120px; height: 235px; text-align:justify; font-size: 8pt; color:#E6E6E6; margin-left: -15px;]WORDS
    273




    TAGGING
    #Zenevieva




    BATTLE TAGS
    ♦ Zenevieva
    ♦ ShadowClan
    ♦ Kit
    ♦ hover for powers
    ♦ attack in #B5AE98.
    ♦ open for injury, request capture/kill.
    [/fancypost]

    		 [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; border: 1px solid #494949; background: #1f1f1f; padding:10px; font-size: 8pt; color:#808080; width:270px; height: 239px; overflow:auto;] Zenevieva made her way towards the group, like she had found herself doing a lot recently; she silently promised to schold her role-player for not thinking of any other ways to introduce her to a thread. So predictable! But that was besides the point, she had made her way towards the group, her paws threading against the ground at a calm and relaxed manner, matching against her face; except, paws couldn't exactly keep a soft smile or a warm glow in their eyes, but that was a little problem. She wondered whether at any point any cat had managed to get away with having a paw on their fa- no, not that; a face on their paws, do, the other way around would be... quite, interesting- to say the least. Zenevieva flicked her tail as if issuing her thought to pause, the look of distant thought fading from her eyes.




    She had managed to control her flower prints for once, which was an achievement in it's own little way, but Zenevieva couldn't care less about the flower sprouting under her paws, at least, she did, but didn't really care when it wasn't happening. As she finally made her way towards the group, she bowed her head slightly in greeting, along with a quick flick of her tail. The orange tabby kitten wasn't too familiar with- well- anyone in the Clan, really, so she had to go through the awkwardness of introducing herself. "Hi," She started, yeah, that was good. "My name's Zenevieva, I overheard yours was Hostess?" The kit asked in her well mannered, masterfully controlled voice as she looked at the cougar.




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