.CaT.&.MousE.

[carnage]

Life. It just a game of cat and mouse.A simple game of 'catch me if you can'. One creature is calmly minding their own business, probably eating. Then along comes a bigger,faster, and more than likely smarter, creature. The odds of the first animal surviving are slim. This game is a game of survival. Kill or be killed. Run for your life and don't look back. This very principal is applied to many things. Such event was happening in the lands called Okari. The golden grasses swayed with the gentle breezes and the prey animals were happily munching on the flora at their hooves. It was a beautiful day and the sun shone brightly above the earth. But not only the things seen were beautiful.

There in the grasses,lie a feminine creature. One could tell that it a female, for the sheer grace she protrayed proved it true. The being's shoulders rocked back and forth and a low growl rumbled her vocals.This of course, was the lioness known as Carnage. He green eyes flickered across the savannah as she watched a herd of herbivores feast selfishly.They weren't the least bit attentive to the presence that lie so nearby.

Inch by inch, Carnage approached her unsuspecting victims. The femme's tongue swiped over her thin obsidian lips. Previously her stomach had been growling and Carnage intended to fill that empty void. When the female lion had gained enough ground be in a close range of the antelope, she lifted to her paws. The herd scattered in a frenzy. Some members went left, and others right, but amidst the panic, the lone lioness was calm. She kept a level head as she persued her prey. The femme's paws danced against the ground and her lithe frame moved quite swiftly. Carnage chased after a smaller antelope, who fumbled considerably to get away. The game was on. There could only be one of two outcomes. Either the prey would become food for the predator, or the predator would go home with empty paws and an empty stomach. The lioness wasn't ready to give up. In an attempt to catch the antelope, Carnage gave a leap off the ground. Her sharp clawed paws cut into the antelope's hide.

The herbivore was thrown off balance, but still remained on its hooves. Carnage struck once more, this time with more power and brought the creature to its knees. The femme grappled the antelope by its jugular vein and tore into it. The antelope soon surrendered by taking one last breath. With a satisfied sigh, the lioness let go of her dinner and panted lightly. The femme's green eyes blinked carefully. Being a lone lioness made her slightly more vulnerable to getting her food taken away, but Carnage would defend her kill.Staying where she was, the female lion began to tear into her meal. Carnage felt better and less hungry. She would make it another day...

[Vox]

Oh she wouldn't dare! T'was not good manners, and it was jolly bad form, if you know what I mean. Simply not done, sir! Not done at all! Unthinkable, inconceivable, and utterly proposterous, you know?! Yes, she did. And yet she did it anyway, very frequently? Hmm. Equally correct was that. It was lucky, for the other, that our dearest Lady was not hungry. Excuse me, let us correct that phrase. It was lucky--perhaps--for the other, that our influential darling was not in quarrelsome mood. To say she was satiated would go against her very character! She ate when she could, and she slept when she could. One never knew when the chase would be at her heels and she would need to run. Or fight. Or that other tempting fancy...What was it? Ah yes; murder, she thought it was. It was her job, it was a living, and a decent person can't get on her case for being single-minded in that sense. Perhaps it was folly to trespass on these lands, when they reeked of a male nearby. But really, she couldn't be bothered by such things. Yes, 'tact' and 'ethic' did exist in her mind, but so did 'fight' and 'resist'. If resistance was futile, then why invite it with their little rules and schemes? Yes, she would continue to do exactly as she pleased, until the time came to...Take a different angle. Error was not the sort to duck out of a fight quickly--in fact she was the sort who would rush to join the scrap, ganging up on the strongest side--but she was the type of woman who knew when she was beat, for the time. She would say her sobbing 'I'm sorry's and plead for forgiveness and all that tosh, and she always meant it--at the exact time that she said it that is. But...Her gratitude did not last as long as some should like it to, and before the laddybuck could shout Jack Robinson, he was on his knees. He was begging for mercy. Of course, it was a pity that Error was not very merciful. She followed things through, to the end, and she took care of others loyally. And willingly.

Her lean, oh so muscular frame--almost masculine in appearance and bearing, but certainly feminine in expression and scent--snaked through the air, tasting it with an open, black mouth as she did so. A light frown pulled at her dark lips, and her tainted teeth were shown in mild temper. Her feet flipped out in the usual way for a lioness such as she, carelessly flopping this way and that. Chin jutted slightly, adding to the rather aggressive angle of her face, and sharpening her gaze a touch. The battlescars shone on her coat dappling it pink and white in some places, a forboding about her entire presence. Error had arrived, and it generally meant no good. Trouble was bound to follow, He had been courting her--competing with Danger and Havoc--for some time now. And such handsome men they were, too. The first was a mischevious lad of the Foss influence. Clever was he with his tongue, with his words, and so sweet and tempting to trip into. The middle boy, such a reckless on was he, was more to her taste. Got the addrenaline moving, and his face was unmatched in beauty! But few people appreciated how rough he was, few people--and she was one of the few--loved how hardened was his body. Like she, like she loved him, few did. She so longed to brush up against his sides, exchange the pardonable looks with such the uncaring gentleman. And oh me, oh my, Danger seemed to eye her up as well, ho, ho, ho. But as for the last boy, he such a darling Havoc-dear, hmmm? How she was fond of him! A bit too young for her, she thought she recalled him having been related to her Aunt Sileree, perhaps? Yes, Havoc was one of Sileree's boys, she thought. And such a strapping, wild lad he had turned into. He belonged in her own family, where his mother would have no more of him and his Trouble--close where they, you see. Trouble Foss, Danger Suntighe, and Havoc Fen; her darling lovers! And she did like them that way as well, hmm, she did that.

Error spotted the other long before the other was aware of her, she thought. The wind, for one, was in her favor; as well as the scent of blood and another something...Alive. She stepped through the grasses easily, in her element, and loving it all the way. Her eyes alight with the sun, she enjoyed the intense heat on her back, opening her mouth wider to enjoy the rays she imagined dappling her maw. It seemed the whelp could hunt, and good on her for learning well from Mummy and Daddy. Obviously, quite obviously, Mummy and Daddy had gotten on grand, and Mummy and Daddy had loved the lady and each other very much. Such a lovely story, and she could tell in the way the sweetheart moved that she was a good little girl. 'Well now...Well now. If only I had been so cherished as an ickle girlie, maybe I wouldn't have turned out so rotten, haha!' Her eyes turned delightfully sarcastic, the charisma and charm evident on her features. If there was one thing she loved, it was putting herself down and making herself out as worse than she was. Although...In this particular case, she told the truth, the absolute truth and nothing but the truth, mh-hmm, that was so. She approached, with her distinctive walk. It was slow, as if she was on her last legs, with her head held low, swaying from side to side as she moved. Not at all the walk of a seductress, not the elegant movements of a Fen child...But the practiced, rough movements of a soldier, a freelancer, if you will. Her bold movements stopped quite close to the lioness, but far enough away so as not to be ripped apart too easily if assaulted. Her entire body was relaxed, daring the other to attack her, she was open and defenseless! It was a slight tinge of swagger that made her so irresistible, despite her abrasive nature--at times--and hardened appearance. A strong urge to smirk at the lady and tell her that it would be so much wiser to attack the herd at night, down-wind and not in this enviroment, took her, but she ignored it. She was not the sort to start lecturing others who did not ask for it, and she certainly would not be teaching some nobody what she knew, it wasn't done. And she wasn't that way. More of a 'you wanna git yerself killed...g'won ahead, don't git blood on the carpit and pay fer yer own funeral 'spenses..psh.' gal, d'you know?

[carnage]

<sup>What is the truth about the word satisfaction? Is it true that this is just some feeling that comes and goes as it pleases? Or is satisfaction something that is there the whole time but no one is attentive enough to realize it? There is a saying that without bad times, there is no good times. With nothing bad, a creature becomes naive to all the goodness and kindess of others about them. Well to be honest, satisfaction is hanging above our heads all the time, one just has to make the effort to reach out and grab it. The hard work and effort you put into something reaps a benefit. Those who lie in waiting for the good things to be put into their hand will never succeed.

Carnage was most definately not a lazy beast. She had earned her keep and was therefore proud of her success. Indeed it was harder to find food for a creature that sleeps twenty hours a day on average, but when one is hungry, one must hunt. And that is exactly what Carnage had done. The female tore off pieces of the succulent prey and jubilantly wallowed in the success. The femme had a tight grip on the rump of her kill with her claws and a three inch incisor in the meaty flesh of the creature. This female too had become careless and let her own guard drop slightly while she feasted.

Although when the sound of grass moving, Carnage stopped a moment. Lying there stock still, the feminine form didn't move a muscle. Her lime green eyes trained on the grass before her, and yet didn't see. The femme remained in that position for a while before more cautiously continuing to eat. Now realize Carnage was no glutton, and when she had eaten sufficiently enough to quiet her hunger pains, the female stopped eating once more. Carnage neatly preened her paws and chops and stood to her paws. It was from there that she could spot the form of another in the grass. So, she wasn't hearing things. Carnage knew that someone must be nearby, for in her prime years, her senses rarely failed her. Slithering deeper into the grass, the female wanted to investigate. The lioness craned her neck to try and get a better view. They always say that curiousity killed the cat, though in this case, Carnage was spared. She was came within a few feet of the other lioness and reclined elegantly on her haunches. Those lime green eyes of her's just examined the other lioness carefully, not uttering a sound. Would the other speak and possibly react? Or must Carnage be the instigator of conversation?</sup>

[Vox]

A sociable lady, one who enjoyed company.


NOT DONE