Post by banjocat on Jun 28, 2023 9:36:30 GMT -6
Hawk
Hawk was the epitome of what it meant to be a loner. He was scarred and rough-looking, with an unkempt pelt and a walk that showed an aloof nature. He guarded his little swath of territory, patrolling it daily and challenging any cat who stepped over his markers. Now, he didn't always win those battles. His territory changed shape fairly regularly, but that was how it went. No one won every battle, and if they said they did, they were a liar. But Hawk would always say he was undefeated. He'd talk about how he'd fought off eagles and foxes and badgers, and had even escaped a coyote that had taken his tail. God, he hated his tail. He looked like a damn lynx, and that wasn't something he was proud of. Lynxes were bullies, using their size to boss around the little guys. Foul beasts... Hawk was roaming his territory when a foreign scent caught his nose. His most recent wounds had all closed up and were almost just scars, so he figured it was about time for another spat. His nose led him a fair distance, and as he got closer, he moved into a silent crouch and weaved his way carefully around bushes. Hawk stopped and frowned. Up ahead was the cat he'd scented, but he was surprised to find someone who looked fairly young and... not intimidating. The collar around her neck... what was a house cat doing all the way out here? Hawk stood and stretched his shoulders, walking forward with a sudden confidence and swagger. House cats couldn't fight. They didn't even have claws. This would be a fun taunt at best, or the cat would go running at first sight of him at worst. "Whatcha doin' out here, kitty?" he hummed, short tail flicking from side to side. The brown tabby stretched out a forepaw, dragging razor-sharp claws across the ground lazily, all the while maintaining a rigid, cold eye contact. |
