Lost::Sierra

[||Damon||]

There was no explaining the presence of the Tribe tom in clear loner lands except that he was lost. Four years old, most Tribe cats knew their way about their own lands very well. This particular tom knew more well than most; however, as he'd gone to check one section of the border rarely patrolled, he lost the scent of his fellow members and, in the heat of the moment, continued walking, something he rarely would have done. However, he was feeling drawn to the water, being in his shift form and all. In shift form, the usually average feline was a large Maltese tiger. Large, muscular, well-built, and entirely well-groomed, he had a long stride with powerful muscles that rippled with every step. His pelt was a light silver-grey color accented with blueish stripes that darkened to black in various locations. His eyes, as in normal form, were a striking blue color that completed his moon-like look. It was in this form that he approached the loner lands, completely lost, and carried on his paws only by the scent of fresh water.

It was dusk-time; the sun was setting and the moon was just becoming stronger, more visibly. Dusk was one of his favorite times of day; everything was cooling off, yet there was a beautiful sunset to behold. That, and his patron goddess, Milarea, would be out in full glow; well, the moon - her moon - would, at least. The sight of the moon excited him; and that was a rarity in and of itself. Damon was a very contained feline, very moderate in all emotions. Finding something to excite him was like finding a dragon shifter - highly, strangely unlikely. However, the moon, as well as water, was his weakness. He felt stronger, empowered by his goddess.

In this state he looked about the beautiful lands; a lake lay before his sight; diving into it occupied his sole thoughts. It was with this singularity of mind that Damon padded closer, blocking out all other thoughts. It was with this singularity that Damon, unknowingly, entertained whoever loners dared to venture out at night only so far away from Tribe lands. It was with this singularity that Damon stuck only one paw in the water to test its temperature before splashing in, gracefully pushing off from the banks to pad towards the center and then dive beneath the surface to submerge his slick pelt.

[sierra]

S I E R R A !

It had been much to long since she had been here, much to long since she had had the chance to really truly experience the beauty of the infamous Rose Lake at night. In the darkness she moved quickly, the form of a small lynx cat slinking through the shadows as she circled silently. She had avoided this place completely during the winter, disliking the company of love-sick cats who courted each other just for the sake of kits. But now, in spring, something drew her here, closer to the water, closer to the promise of change. In shifter form she would choose to remain, the lynx, and her fur – the colors and hues of brown and cream – didn’t stand out as much as those of her cat form. At night, and under the light of the full moon, she stuck out like a sore thumb with her white fur.

Tonight the moon would be full, the time of the month she had always seemed to enjoy, but for now it was dusk. She loved the full moon, it always promised a good time, and it was the time when her patron Goddess Milarea was at her full strength. ”A small sign of hope in a way to me,” she smiled at the thought. Then, she turned to settle along the edge of the lake. Her amber colored eyes, flecked with gold, stared into the water as the colors of the sunset bleed together as a disturbance gently ruffled the waters edge close to wear she was sitting. Startled, Sierra jumped back in surprise.

A quick glace around the immediate area proved to come up with nothing. Her nose lifted in the air, senses straining for a sign of the intruder, and then twitched as she picked up a single scent, male, oddly familiar and yet completely different than what she was accustomed to. Following the movement in the water she found a Tiger, or at least it appeared to be a Tiger, swimming in the lake not far from her. It’s, his, fur was silver and covered in black stripes… ”But what kind of Tiger has silver fur?” She muttered half to herself and half aloud.

She stood, remaining in her Lynx form as she felt safer, more secure, as a Lynx just now than as a cat. Moving to the spot that he had entered the water with a hurried pace she watched him for a short while. His shifter form was clearly a Tiger, rare at least in loner terms. Many loners tended to be birds or small prey, or even deer or small predators. From what she had learned from her brothers, Tigers, lions, leopards, and other big cats existed as Shifters…but they were much more common in the Tribe. The Tribe, She eyed the stranger with new found interest, certainly he wasn’t a Tribe cat…

An icy cold shiver found its way down her spine. Her nose twitched as she watched the cat come back to the surface, he’s eyes were the color of the blue sky now that she could see them from her spot. That scent. ”No, it could not be.” Standing there, frozen to her spot, she recalled what she knew about the Tribe. ”Nothing really…” Her head cocked curiously as the male swam – why was he here? Only one way to find out, ”Tribe cat.” She called softly, here under the protection of her goddess she did not have to yell or threaten him just to talk. ”Why are you here, in our lands?”

OOC; Sorry for the wait.

[||Damon||]

A loud, booming purr erupted from the mouth of the Maltese tiger as he looked upward to the sky. A full moon. What a blessing, his thoughts reverberated in his mind like the thudding of paws on a soft floor, dulling each time but still carrying truth. Nothing was more of a blessing than a full moon, when Milarea was indeed in full power, controlling the entire night with an iron fist of wisdom. When he’d left camp earlier that day, his mind had been full of concern for his friend and leader, Valentine. As was typical, he’d left near dusk to observe the moon, but it had slipped his mind that tonight was to be a full moon. Since his kithood, he had not gone a day without observing the moon at night, but the nights of a full moon were always particularly special to him. It was on a full moon that he’d learned that his patron goddess was Milarea, though he had always prayed she would choose him. It was on a full moon that he’d found out that his father was to become an elder. A string of events occurred to him on full moons that he could never entirely remember or fully appreciate. However, he did not feel that this full moon would have anything special occur aside from the fact that he’d accidentally wondered from his Tribe lands. Perhaps this is the special thing – finding this lake where I am free from the lovers seeking assurance from Erosate. Perhaps this is Milarea’s gift to me tonight.

If there had been a god of water, he would have had to fight to be Damon’s patron god, seeing as the cat’s two favorite things aside from his Tribe were the moon [as well as wisdom, a double sort of interest] and water. As a cat, he preferred to stick closer to his love for wisdom; however, in his shifter form, his love for water tugged at his heart strings. Any chance of entering a body of water gave him reason for excitement. As a cat, he often went for dips in the Waterfall, though he didn’t like to hang about the place for long. Erosate was not his patron god, and Damon was not looking for love. As such, finding a lake without the usual taunts of seeking a lover was a joy to be fully appreciated, which he intended to do so by swimming the length of it multiple times. This pursuit in mind, he began, diving under once more and then swimming powerfully back toward the direction he had come.

It was then, during his above-water swim, that he spotted a form smaller than himself with amber eyes. Desperately believing himself to be caught outside of Tribe lands by one of his own, he dove under the water to clear his thoughts. Beneath the water, he opened his eyes, calmed by the sense of life around him but not directly touching him. Feeling safer, he emerged once more, careful to keep only his face above the water. The form was of a lynx; he knew of no lynxes in the Tribe. Attempting to catch its scent, he pushed himself closer to the shore. Perhaps he could get close enough to smell its scent without startling it. Maybe, if I’m careful – his thoughts were interrupted by a voice far softer than his own, one clearly female. Carrying his body closer to where she stood, he found himself footing and stood, his torso now exposed, making him feel slightly uncomfortable despite his formidable size. ”I am sorry,” he mewed gravely in a deep tone before lightening with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. It was a full moon; why not have a bit of fun? ”Why do you assume I am of the Tribe? I am in the water; there are no scents to tell of my allegiances. What, did I miss a consort of the loners recently? He smiled with a hint of curiosity.

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