what did you do those three days you were dead

Random Event: From November 9th to November 16th characters may catch a glimpse of a blood moon in the night sky!

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Moonlight filtered in through the branches of the trees.

All stretching, all reaching; all grabbing for the sky and each other like gnarled, pale, ghastly, skeletal fingers. The shadows casted on the ground. Distorted against the dirt and the trunks of one another.

Sap oozed and spilled from the ends.

Dripped and slid from the cracks and knots and holes and burls in the trunks.

His hackles bristled.

His ears pressed back.

“The fuck you want.” He asked.

His posture slouched.

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The old cat was grumpy, annoyed that his clan had disbanded, his leaders MIA. However, he also didn't care enough to do something about it. No, instead, he would search for a new place to call home, preferably a place where he really didn't have to deal with others. And so, when he came across a rather rude wolf, the cat would roll his eyes, flicking his tail slightly in annoyance. "No one wants a damn thing from you flee bag, I'm just passing through." He said simply, aiming to walk right past the wolf. He wasn't going to go out of his way to stop his walking for this canine.

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There was no one there.

It was just a cat.

Silent, muted, barely-there footfalls on foliage and grass.

He huffed.

Shook out his coat.

Watched it as it passed. Its green eyes on him. He bared his teeth when it hissed. Its tail curved and arched; an angry, curling, sweeping S.

He licked his lips.

He shifted his weight.

He let it go.

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