Stretching the muscle of curiosity (OPEN)

[AMATYA SUDAKAR]

Thread is OPEN for all to join.

Wind whispered sweet nothing into her ears. She was aware of her surrounding, easily picking up the sounds and scents, but her lids covered her eyes, apparently feigning sleep. Ears twitched with the sounds of crickets in the air, and the scent of rabbits not far in the distance was fresh in her nostrils. It didn’t excite her though and she remained on the bough of a tree, her brawny body extending over the bark with relaxation. Her tail curled up and then down, but that was the extent of her movements. Her back paw was lazily hanging off the branch completing the demeanor of ease. Amatya was seemingly alone, with lazy rays breaking through the leaves and dappling her with sunlight. She wasn’t entirely hidden in the leaves, but she didn’t care enough to hide herself, instead she basked in the light.

Not far in the distance stood the run down image left over from humans. It was made with some type of material that Amatya had never in her life came across before and it piqued her interest. She could see the way the light flashed off the tiles along the sides, and the opening was gently swinging open and closed, not making a sound despite the way it moved. She’d been lying within the tree for a while now, anticipating some new scent to spring forth or a noise to slink in her ears. None came however and when her golden eyes flashed open the picture of the shed was the same as it had been before. She noticed the door moving within the wind easily, as if someone was pushing it. Her muscles perked and the large feline rose on the tree limb the leaves dancing with her movements. The bough bounced under her weight, but it was thick enough to support her as she slinked toward the trunk and leaped with grace toward the ground. The grass was green here, not the sickly yellow grass she had noticed in the savannah. It handed the area a very appealing glow, what with the sun shimmering down upon the land and the dew still clinging to the blades of flora. Amatya shook out her body, allowing the golden fur stained with the black rosettes to flutter about in the wind. Her ears laid back against her skull, pinned for only a moment before she flicked them upward again, the stained backings appearing brown in the light. The tail that balanced her gorgeous, muscular frame rotated, swaying in every direction. It took her a full minute to determine that she should investigate the man-made structure and leave the spot that had been imprinted with her large paw prints. She moved delicately, her gait slow and observing. Everything about the leopard was alert, in case something was to spring forth and surprise her, but as she veered closer it appeared nothing was hiding in the shadows, or waiting for her timely approach. The door flapped open and closed, still neglecting to make a sound despite how old the shelter had to be. It would be a perfect place to hide a kill away from scavengers such as hyena or the birds but it had another, more useful, purpose as well. She rolled her shoulders as she walked, a threatening purr rising in her throat as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain. Her paws left soft impressions in the dirt, if a storm came they would be easily hidden within the wind but in the calm of morning they remained, a clue to whom had gotten curious and tread inside.

Close to the enclosure and the door that was swinging back and forth Amatya peeked inside, but saw nothing but the solid ground in which she stand now. In the corner old bones were piled, as if at one point a predator had lived here, but there was no scent now and this comforted Amatya enough to take the remaining steps toward the(clearly possessed) door. There was little wind, but the door moved manically, as if in a stupor if it’s own kind. She examined the door first, sniffing at its edges and rubbing her head against it in what could only be curious examination. She shoved the door back with her head, it felt good, the rough material scratching against her fur but soon she lost interest and turned to the open entrance. The windows allowed the light to seep through, but it was darker inside, her imagination brought things forth in the shadows and she laughed at herself.

Amatya Sudakar, the brave leopard of Nairubi, and her mind was playing tricks with her eyes. She raised a brow, a curious indignation that was directed at no one. She peeked her head inside sniffing the musty air the flowed around inside, when she determined that it was safe the rest of her body slid inside. It wasn’t huge but it was large enough for four or five cats to store themselves inside. In the corner where the bones were laid, blood stained the ground but it was old, the scent long forgotten. Amatya blinked against the lights that streamed through the windows, the air inside was different, although it was faint only noticeable by the nostrils of a cat. Amatya remained inside for quite some time, examining the bones and blood and marking the corners with her scent. She didn’t own this place by any means, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t place her mark down just in case another, weaker cat came by and decided he owned the place. It was arrogance that provoked her to do this more so than anything else, but once it was done she strode back into the light that shone outside and laid by the entrance, away from the flapping door that could clock her in the head. She positioned herself beneath the window and stretched her body out along the side of the shelter and rubbed the back of her skull against the grainy material. She smiled pleasantly, in the warmth of the suns rays that heated her body and forgot herself. Such calming feelings should not be accompanied by caution, and as such she did not recognize the changing scents of the wind, bringing change to the large leopard whether she was aware of it or not.

((Over 1000 words :o Wow, I think I got carried away a bit. ))

[HUXLEY VANDERBILT]

It was a gorgeous day in the savanna: the sky was a deep, clear cerulean studded with wisps of tentative cloud and the sun shone down relentlessly, made bearable only by the gales of fragrant wind that swept along the cracked earth.

Huxley didn't have time to dawdle and enjoy the weather, however. He was on a mission. That much was evident from the way he had pushed out his chest and the way he carried his head high and proud. One got the feeling that if only he had a tail, it would be held aloft like a triumphant banner behind him.

There was a spring in his step but he walked swiftly, those tawny paws of his scraping hurriedly over mud of the same color. Although he didn't seem to be relishing it, the weather certainly put Huxley in a good mood: there was an absent-minded half smile on his muzzle and every so often, if one were to listen closely, they could hear a strange humming leave his lips. It was more of a tuneless keen than anything else since Huxley wasn't much of a musician, but it hinted at high spirits.

He was so blatantly ignoring his surroundings, in fact, that it was something of a miracle that he hadn't faceplanted by now: his eyes were half-closed, for chrissake. Huxley didn't have to bother with earthly matters such as trying to walk in the right direction. There were more important affairs weighing on his mind.

As if to prove him wrong, a particularly slippery stone planted itself in his path and Huxley, his head in the clouds, tumbled forward. His caracal reflexes managed to catch him before his chest hit the ground, springing backwards and landing lightly on all four paws again. Huxley blinked, bemused. It was frankly a wonder he had survived this many years without paying any attention to his surroundings. "Fucking rocks," he muttered darkly, giving it a swat as he passed it.

As he glanced upwards, a larger shape caught his attention-- a big rock? It was only a hundred feet away, glimmering seductively in a square sort of way. Huxley cocked his head to one side, for once mentally berating himself for not having been paying more attention to his surroundings. Where the fuck was he?

"Ohh," he realized outloud, those grave dark eyes of his lighting up. He was at the shed. He should have known, at the very least from that bitter scent it gave off. It had been many years since it had been... since it had been what? Inhabited? Used? But the acrid aroma of it still lingered.

He remembered seeing it when he had been a kit with Icarus, but it had been shiny and silver and erect back then: now, years later, the sides had begun to cave in on themselves and their smooth corrugated surfaces were speckled with blood red rust, spread over the metal like a fungus. Still, even now, seeing it so harmless and disheveled in the midday light, Huxley found his pawpads tingling and his hackles raising despite themselves.

Something had happened here, he could just feel it. It was wrong. It didn't fit in. Either it was the will of the gods or... he braced himself. Or it was something bigger than that. Something evil. His steps slowed to a halt as he was only a dozen feet away, and he squinted surreptitiously into the murky darkness of the entrance. Was there something there?

His oversized ears could detect faint breathing. It sounded leisurely and deep-- almost as if the beast in question was asleep. Huxley gnawed on his lip, crouching down with his eyes still trained on the doorway. Should he go in?

His gaze lowered and his eyes widened. There were footsteps in the soft clay in front of the shed. Feline pawpads-- huge and fringed with fur. Heavy, too, given how deep they had sunk. Huxley swallowed the misgivings that welled in his chest. He knew that he'd have to go in-- curiosity wouldn't permit him to do anything otherwise.

Unsheathing his claws silently into the mud, he stepped forward until he was only a couple of feet in front of the entrance. The breathing was much louder here, but being upwind from the shed, Huxley couldn't scent anything. "Anyone here?" he called out, his voice full of bravado that he didn't quite feel.

[/justify]

[AMATYA SUDAKAR]

It hadn’t been too long, but the relaxed bones and cool breeze dancing across her fur made the feline fall into deep slumber. She was fading away from the shed and into a dream. She could hear her heart thudding against her chest, fast movements that indicated that she was frightened, and yet she felt nothing of the sort. Just a calm sort of floating that one often feels in dreams. Appearing before her was a vast ocean of trees; each one had leaves that were greener than the last. Behind her there was nothing but a wall, a giant barricade designed to keep her in. Though the land in front of her called and persuaded the leopard to step forward she didn’t and instead Amatya turned toward the barricade, her eyes glowing like the sun. It was then a voice slithered along her ears, echoing around her head as if not entirely real. It was enough for the world around her to fade, and as the golden optics of the female opened she was gazing around the shed again, sprawled under the window and basking half in light, half in shade. It occurred to her that perhaps the voice that she had heard was not one from her slumber, and her ears bent backward, touching her skull in caution. The long tail went on alert too, erecting itself straight behind her, with not a single ripple upon the skin.

Amatya sniffed the air tenderly, attempting to catch a scent before revealing herself entirely. One came, but it was faint, as if the wind was defying her and Amatya was forced to step in the door of the shed, revealing a mask of shadows along her golden face. The rosettes were there, clumping together under her eyes and around her jowls. The yellow gaze contained highlighted flecks of gray and it ran along him in appraisal. Her musculature was visible but not decorated in sunlight the way his was. For a moment she judged him, her frame pulling to its full stature and the tendons coiling in apprehension. She wasn’t expecting a guest, and she was attempting to gauge whether or not she faulted him for his surprise appearance.

“Yes. Someone is here.” She cautioned him but the tone that left her mouth left something to be interpreted, as it was neither threatening nor inviting. Her vocals weren’t as deep as she’d meant them to be and she blamed in on her recent awakening of which sleep still clung to her lids. The large feline yawned, her jaws opening wide to reveal the rows of long stained ivories, while her tongue rolled outward and along the gums. She shook out her bones in the doorway of the shed, her fur creasing again but settling quickly after she was finished. Silence hung in the air between them and Amatya adjusted to his presence, easily defining his character as not a threat. She remained on edge regardless. If the male sought a fight, it was a fight he would get but from the look of him it didn’t seem he was eager to begin a quarrel. She gazed at him, the highlights of her eyes made visible by the sun as she stepped a paw out of the doorway and toward him. The sun slithered along her back, warming the gentle cool that had bequeathed her whilst sleeping. As she moved the shadows left her face, revealing the golden coat that lined her bones and it was seen then the sheer amount of power that lay beneath her skin, as she moved her physique rippled in the sun, her head low and eyes observing. There was nothing even remotely weak looking about the female and her remarkable frame was just a given trait of her breed. How was she not more arrogant toward herself when she boasted such fantastic features? Perhaps she just hid it well.

Amatya grinned toward the male, curious as to his name and what exactly he wanted, if anything at all. She had nothing to offer but the shed she reside in, and if he wished to share she really couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. It wasn’t her shed to fend off guests from, and if the owner did decide to come and reclaim his place as rightful king of the shit shed, then so be it. Amatya cocked her head to the side, tufts of fur falling from her cheeks and dancing in the wind.

“Is there something I can do for the Caracal?” She asked, her voice rather abruptly penetrating the air. It was deeper now but significantly soft on the ears. She thought about extending her name, but liked the sound of her previous sentence hanging in the air and instead remained quiet, her whiskers twitching along the side of her maw.

[HUXLEY VANDERBILT]

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Huxley stood there in the entrance for a solid minute, holding his breath and trying to give his eyes time to adjust to the cloaking velvet darkness. He could see nothing-- nothing but dim musty night-time from the shed's interior. The breathing had sped up somewhat. Had the beast woken up? Huxley resisted the urge to pin his magnificent ears against his skull. He needed all the hearing finesse he could get. He took another cautious step forward so that his shoulders were inside the shed. Inside, it was warm and dank, and a good ten degrees hotter than it was outside. Huxley wrinkled his nose in distaste. The sooner he could get back into the open air, the better. But first, he had to solve this. And maybe slay the beast. He had a knack for that sort of thing. His breathing had sped up and he noticed with a kind of detached bemusement that his heart was pounding in his ears. Whatever this beast was, he couldn't see it anywhere-- but that only exacerbated his fear. It was big, heavy and invisible. Wonderful. Huxley took a deep breath, aware that if he became too panicked, his fear scent would be detectable a mile off. Calm down, he thought over and over again, standing paralyzed in the doorframe. There was probably nothing there. Just pawprints and that hushed, rhythmic breathing sound... it was enough to chill him to his bones. Still, even though his scrawny caracal body was awash with terror, the thought of backing down didn't even cross his mind. Surrender wasn't really in Huxley's mental dictionary. Just as he was about to open his mouth to try again with another question, he heard a sultry voice. "Yes. Someone is here." Huxley's blood ran cold. For one, it was definitely a female. And deep-- therefore large. Her tone, too, was not friendly in the least. He peered into the murky depths but he could see nothing. Maybe he had imagined it, or... "Is there something I can do for the caracal?" That voice again. But he had missplaced it-- it was definitely coming from behind him. Outside of the shed. Huxley whirled around swiftly-- too swiftly. The doorway was too narrow and he hit his head hard on the side. Although he managed to surpress a yelp, he stepped backwards instinctively so that he was totally inside the shed, peering outwards. From the corner of his eye he could see a shred of spotted pelt, and he followed it slowly with his gaze. A leopard. Huge and golden and beautiful and vicious-looking. The weird part, though? She was staring right at Huxley and grinning in what appeared to be a friendly manner. Huxley swallowed the wave of paranoia-- and mortification-- that was crashing around his lithe shoulders. How long had she been watching him? Had she seen him hit his head on the shed? Did she think he was a retard? Most importantly, was she planning on eating him? "Nothing whatsoever," he countered with more hostility than he'd intended. A little late, but better than never, right? ALL THESE SIMPLE THINGS, THEY STICK LIKE TRUTH, LIKE ICE, LIKE FIRE. listening to REPTILE by citizens.

[AMATYA SUDAKAR]

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Standing in the light she probably appeared far more threatening than she intended, but what did she care? As far as she was concerned the Caracal was just visiting, and it wasn’t like he meant her any harm, or at least it seemed anyhow. As Amatya’s grin pulled upward at his response she gazed at him, enjoying the sultry attitude in which he addressed her. If leopards could scoff that is exactly what she would do, but since that feat could not be properly accomplished she settled for a silent sigh. She was standing, the muscles in her legs holding the brawny body of Amatya steadily, and her tail swished about behind her as she contemplated what exactly she wanted to say. It was apparent from the tone that he was unclear she had been watching him; his surprise caused her back to tingle. She liked sneaking up on others. Though that wasn’t her intention to begin with, she had figured that the male would have noticed her shadows slowly creeping up behind him. When he didn’t it wasn’t really her place to do anything but respond to his questions, seemingly directed at no one. Amatya wasn’t on edge, but she wasn’t incautious around him either. There was certain rigidness to her movements that could be detected if one looked for it. His scent was on the wind now, not nearly as faint as it had been before, but it gave her little more information than she already knew. He was male, he was a caracal, and apparently he had absolutely no business for disturbing her. It irked her that he had strode in unannounced and woken her, when he wanted nothing at all, but what could she do? Perhaps he was just curious as to what lay in the shed. Amatya teetered over whether she should be angry or welcoming, and decided on neither. She looked at him calmly, her gentle gaze gauging his response to her question before she asked it. “That doesn’t sufficiently explain why you are here, does it?” She asked him, her wide eyes assessing his expression. She didn’t mean the sentence as rude, but it could have easily come across that way. Amatya settled herself against her back legs, and pressed her front paws together. Behind her the golden black-dappled tail waved back and forth from the various emotions she was feeling. It was clear to her that her sleep had been perturbed for no clear reason and she wanted to yell at the Caracal for being so inconsiderate, but then another more sensible emotion appealed to her conscience that said he was just curious and that Amatya would have done the same. The fore-thought made her change her tone, and when Amatya spoke to the male again, there was no way it could have been misinterpreted. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anyhow. Care to share your name?” Amatya looked up at him expectantly, but even if he was to answer she wouldn’t have let him get a word in above her introduction. She opened her mouth to speak again. “I am Amataya Sudakar. I am pleased to make your acquaintance if you get out of my shed.” She smiled sarcastically, and even let a laugh slide off her lips. The shed wasn’t really hers but she addressed it as so. Her scent was all over it now, if she wanted to call it her own, she damn well would. If another large feline came by that was large and more powerful than her, perhaps she would consider turning in the other direction and running as fast as her legs would take her, but here in front of the Caracal whose name she did not know, that seemed like a distant option for another time. Her entire body vibrated as a purr rolled from her mouth, something she did when comfortable. The air hung around her was filled with tension but Amatya smiled without regard to the apprehension she could cut with a claw. She was sure he was assessing her, gauging how much of a threat she was to him, but then again Amatya couldn’t read minds, she had no idea what he was really thinking, she liked to think it was something along the lines of powerful and elegant, but a voice in the back of her head told her otherwise. hi there! there are 742 WORDS in this post, which is especially for Huxley i would also like to say This post isn't very good D:. i'm getting my inspiration from silence

[HUXLEY VANDERBILT]

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Huxley stood frozen in the doorway, his hackles sticking out from his flesh like a million angry needles. He was well and truly cornered. His panicked mind flashed back to a minute ago, when he was standing here, staring into the depths of the shed. Was there an escape route? Any windows of light that he could barge through if necessary? Mind palace, he thought desperately to himself. Go back to your mind palace and... concentrate. He squeezed his eyes shut, defying every inch of his muscles which were screaming for him not to take his eyes off the leopard. Caracals like himself were often killed by cats like leopards. He mentally berated himself for stepping inside the shed without circling the outside even once. Why had he just assumed the leopard was inside instead of hanging out outside, as this one clearly was? Still, although Huxley couldn't admit it to himself, he knew that he lived for moments such as these-- with the adrenaline pumping through his system and making everything ludicrously neon and blurred. His heart drummed an all-consuming rhythm in those mighty ears of his and he could swear that his knees were shaking. And yet he couldn't keep a grin off his face. Mind palace, he reminded himself sternly, trying to ignore the enormous electric presence of the beautiful leopard she-cat only a few inches away from his quivering whiskers. Emblazoned on the shallow darkness behind his eyelids, he could see it: a hazy human structure, pale and glittering and many-turreted. He had seen it only once on an old scrap of paper that had fluttered in through the fence but it had peaked his curiosity. It reminded him of this shed, somehow: something about those perfect square corners that you never saw in the wild. It was always cold in Huxley's mind palace. Cold and empty and icy. Untouchable and unfathomable. Licking his lips, he took a bold step through the opened door. His claws clicked through the echoingly vast hall. It was more silent than anywhere else Huxley had ever been. All he could hear, besides his own shallow breathing, was the faint sound of the leopard talking to Huxley in real life: some nonsense about not sufficiently explaining. He dismissed it, settling instead into his ice throne. This was where he belonged. "Now where," he muttered to himself, squinting in concentration. "Where can I get out of here?" His palace hummed thoughtfully and then there it was, a picture of the inside of the shed. Huxley inhaled sharply. Walking through rooms of his own memories... it was so tempting to just keep strolling, to take a meander through his childhood. But he knew better. He didn't have much time. His dark eyes latched onto a tiny square of faint light in the back of the shed. Excellent. There was a crack in the corrugated iron there-- perhaps he could back into it and break free? He clenched his teeth. Either way, he had to try. With a sigh, he shut the door of his mind palace behind him. He had no excuse to avoid reality anymore. Huxley opened his eyes. The leopard's hypnotic yellow eyes were locked onto his own. She was truly beautiful: nearly twice his size, her pelt a medley of golds and tawnies and tans. Everything about her oozed feline grace. The way her bones moved under her pelt and the way her paws picked out each deliberate step: she was just a pleasure to observe. And yet Huxley knew he couldn't or she would fucking eat him. "I'm planning on it," he snapped, not bothering to answer her questions. His paws tingled with anticipation. It would be so smooth. He just had to duck under the shed and then... Stepping backwards, he felt his hindquarters hit a loose slat that groaned under his weight. Huxley grinned wolfishly. "Farewell, Amatya! he singsonged, disappearing into the shed and then emerging out the other side. Now all he had to do was sprint away and she wouldn't know what the fuck had happened. Perfect. ALL THESE SIMPLE THINGS, THEY STICK LIKE TRUTH, LIKE ICE, LIKE FIRE. listening to DARK OF THE MATINÉE by franz ferdinand. lololol this post is so weird... i apologize. i had a great idea and then i got frustrated and was like FUCKIT I CAN'T DO THIS so it kinda died halfway through XD mind palace creds to sherlock!

[AMATYA SUDAKAR]

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This was possibly the most strangest of scenes she had ever witnessed, and the whole time it all took place she didn’t speak after her introduction. One moment the shed was filled with cat, his frame taking up the space with ease. He defied her introduction despite the fact that she meant him no harm what so ever and found a way to dash under the shed, no doubt appearing on the other side and running for his ever loving life. Amatya remained in place however, disturbed by the sudden disappearance of what she had considered simply a guest. She wouldn’t curse herself for the male’s reaction to her, but somewhere deep inside her mind she cursed the brawny frame and angry eyes she was birthed with. Perhaps she was just destined to be alone. Against the savannah wind she sighed, the coverage of the shed calling her out of the sunlight. As she obeyed and the shade enveloped her frame she caught the scent of the male that was now probably long gone. She couldn’t grasp much from it besides what she already knew and instead of lingering on it she sighed heavily into the air. Had I said something nicer would he have stayed? She questioned herself and racked her brain for an answer, but one was not found. In the shade of the shed there was nothing left but herself, and her thoughts, and it left her feeling incredibly alone. Solitary creatures such as her could go forever without any social interaction, but that didn’t mean from time to time she didn’t crave it, especially when the opportunity had been so close. Behind her Amatya’s tail flicked with the frustrated desire to run after the male that had so abruptly left her. Hadn’t it been him who wandered in here to begin with, so blindly unaware of her presence? If anything she should have been the one running him off, and not him leaving of his own accord. An array of emotions were rattling through her brain, knotting her stomach and causing a slight ache in the heart. Nothing so serious, but concerning in its own right. She juggled the thought that perhaps her feeling had been hurt. His sing song of her name was still on her ears, she had a strong desire for something just because she couldn’t have it. It irked the hell out of her, but what could she do? The large leopard investigated the place that he had slipped away. Her nose ran across it, smelling the distinct scent of the wind blowing from underneath. It appeared to be some kind of trap-door. With her long ashen talons attached to her toes she clawed at the floor with a fierce roar until the thing gave into her and flung open. Inside the sand seemed to be carved for the fitting of a creature a little smaller than her size and despite the fact that she might narrowly fit through, Amatya jumped in anyways. As she landed on the dirt that was below the secret door Amatya was squeezed tightly, the confines pushing against her. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea. The feline groaned as she shimmered herself down further, in order to squeeze herself out the other side but it proved much more difficult than she expected. Her bones were being crushed, and it was perhaps the most uncomfortable position she had ever been in, but Amatya managed to slither onward. When she reached the ending she peeked out her head and attempted to pull the rest of herself out but only got as far as her belly before her hind legs got stuck. “For almighty sake!” Amatya cursed aloud as she moved back and forth in an attempt to extract herself from the hole. Her tail lashed the ground that held her in place, hoping to free some dirt and allowing her to escape but such lucky things did not happen to such unlucky kitties. Amatya groaned aloud, cursing, perhaps for the first time in her life, the copious amounts of muscle that formed under her coat. “Someone fucking help me!” Hi There! There are 612 WORDS in this post, which is especially for Huxley I would also like to say Uhh…well that was rather unexpected. xD . I'm getting my inspiration from TV! TV!