Post by SKADI on Jun 25, 2014 21:11:42 GMT -6
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Speaking to Dieter a few days ago in the swamp had awoken a longing in Skadi that she hadn't been aware of. Since then, it had nagged at her, and she'd spent an inordinate amount of time wandering through the swamp close to both the "ShadowClan" and other wildcat group's territories. From what she'd heard of ShadowClan, the cats were fiercer there than the other wildcat groups were, and had apparently at some point gained a reputation for being the bad guys. She felt bad for them, because she'd never met an entire group of cats as large as ShadowClan supposedly was that was mean through and through. Mostly the mean gangs of cats liked to roam around in search of targets to bully, like Skadi, not stay in one place and mind their own business.
Still, the thought of them seemed scarier than the thought of the unknown group of wildcats that lived in the other territory. So Skadi had decided to linger by their border, close enough that the scent of their border-markers filled her nose, but not so close that she could easily be mistaken for being on their land. Once, she'd made that mistake, and it had taken forever for her haunch to heal from the scratches that had been the wildcat's greeting to her. Something that hurt drove a lesson home really well, and Skadi was not making that mistake again, no siree. Hence (a fancy word her mother Freya had taught her when she was very young and had taken a shining to) the caution she was currently employing in attempting to meet a wildcat from this territory.
She sat with her paws gathered close to herself, fur groomed into a neat and orderly appearance, tail wrapped neatly around her paws and posture straight. Mother had always told her that one could tell a lot about a cat by the way they looked when one first met them, and Skadi had latched onto it. It made sense, in her mind, because a cat who walked around with mud clumped in their fur wasn't too concerned with what others thought of their grooming. Maybe for a bunch of different reasons, but definitely not a whit of care in that (another phrase that she'd gotten from one of her parents, this time from Loki. Whit was a funny sounding word, and the lofty way in which her father said it had made her giggle. Still did, to be honest). A giggle burbled up her throat and out of her muzzle, and her shoulders shook with it.
A grin pasted itself on Skadi's delicate orange-and-white muzzle, and she searched the visible wildcat territory for signs of anyone. Her hazel eyes sparkled merrily with the enjoyment she'd taken from her own thoughts, and Skadi searched her memories for other funny words her parents had taught her. Hm... there was promulgate, which she'd forgotten the meaning of but had triggered a giggle fit in her that lasted long enough that her father had rolled his eyes, her mother had sighed in exasperation, and her sister Hel had finally had to cuff her 'round the ear to get her to shut up. Yes, it was a silly-sounding word, and its meaning mustn't have been very important, or there must have been several other (less silly) ways of saying what she meant in that word, because Skadi had not a single clue what it meant.
Promulgate. The ginger tabby giggled to herself, ducking her head and forgetting the world around her. It repeated itself in her head, first drawn-out and slow, then quick and clipped, then all in a building rush. Skadi giggled again and again at each repetition of the silly world, tail flicking back and forth in her amusement. "Promulgate," the loner whispered to herself, setting off another cascade of giggles. Really, it was such a silly-sounding word; Skadi couldn't imagine it having a serious meaning or a serious place in conversation. Of course, she could imagine any of her sisters (especially the ones who were only her sisters because her brothers had had the bad taste to fall for them) using it as casually as any other cats used more sensible and small words.
Another giggle escaped her, and Skadi attempted to stave off her "giggle fit" (as her mother liked to call them) by smoothing the fur of her chest again, to little success. She continued to laugh quietly to herself as she groomed her fur, tail still broadcasting her amusement. There wasn't much it would take to send her into fresh giggles, even while her current giggles gradually petered out. Petered out. That phrase set her off again, and Skadi gave up on controlling it, deciding to just ride out the giggles.
Speaking to Dieter a few days ago in the swamp had awoken a longing in Skadi that she hadn't been aware of. Since then, it had nagged at her, and she'd spent an inordinate amount of time wandering through the swamp close to both the "ShadowClan" and other wildcat group's territories. From what she'd heard of ShadowClan, the cats were fiercer there than the other wildcat groups were, and had apparently at some point gained a reputation for being the bad guys. She felt bad for them, because she'd never met an entire group of cats as large as ShadowClan supposedly was that was mean through and through. Mostly the mean gangs of cats liked to roam around in search of targets to bully, like Skadi, not stay in one place and mind their own business.
Still, the thought of them seemed scarier than the thought of the unknown group of wildcats that lived in the other territory. So Skadi had decided to linger by their border, close enough that the scent of their border-markers filled her nose, but not so close that she could easily be mistaken for being on their land. Once, she'd made that mistake, and it had taken forever for her haunch to heal from the scratches that had been the wildcat's greeting to her. Something that hurt drove a lesson home really well, and Skadi was not making that mistake again, no siree. Hence (a fancy word her mother Freya had taught her when she was very young and had taken a shining to) the caution she was currently employing in attempting to meet a wildcat from this territory.
She sat with her paws gathered close to herself, fur groomed into a neat and orderly appearance, tail wrapped neatly around her paws and posture straight. Mother had always told her that one could tell a lot about a cat by the way they looked when one first met them, and Skadi had latched onto it. It made sense, in her mind, because a cat who walked around with mud clumped in their fur wasn't too concerned with what others thought of their grooming. Maybe for a bunch of different reasons, but definitely not a whit of care in that (another phrase that she'd gotten from one of her parents, this time from Loki. Whit was a funny sounding word, and the lofty way in which her father said it had made her giggle. Still did, to be honest). A giggle burbled up her throat and out of her muzzle, and her shoulders shook with it.
A grin pasted itself on Skadi's delicate orange-and-white muzzle, and she searched the visible wildcat territory for signs of anyone. Her hazel eyes sparkled merrily with the enjoyment she'd taken from her own thoughts, and Skadi searched her memories for other funny words her parents had taught her. Hm... there was promulgate, which she'd forgotten the meaning of but had triggered a giggle fit in her that lasted long enough that her father had rolled his eyes, her mother had sighed in exasperation, and her sister Hel had finally had to cuff her 'round the ear to get her to shut up. Yes, it was a silly-sounding word, and its meaning mustn't have been very important, or there must have been several other (less silly) ways of saying what she meant in that word, because Skadi had not a single clue what it meant.
Promulgate. The ginger tabby giggled to herself, ducking her head and forgetting the world around her. It repeated itself in her head, first drawn-out and slow, then quick and clipped, then all in a building rush. Skadi giggled again and again at each repetition of the silly world, tail flicking back and forth in her amusement. "Promulgate," the loner whispered to herself, setting off another cascade of giggles. Really, it was such a silly-sounding word; Skadi couldn't imagine it having a serious meaning or a serious place in conversation. Of course, she could imagine any of her sisters (especially the ones who were only her sisters because her brothers had had the bad taste to fall for them) using it as casually as any other cats used more sensible and small words.
Another giggle escaped her, and Skadi attempted to stave off her "giggle fit" (as her mother liked to call them) by smoothing the fur of her chest again, to little success. She continued to laugh quietly to herself as she groomed her fur, tail still broadcasting her amusement. There wasn't much it would take to send her into fresh giggles, even while her current giggles gradually petered out. Petered out. That phrase set her off again, and Skadi gave up on controlling it, deciding to just ride out the giggles.
words 791- MAGPIESTAR
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