tracing the tracks [kezz]

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[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/167uwox.jpg,true] "Speech" Denim shouldn't be here. Obviously, if he was found wandering outside of the Iris Pride, he'd have his head on a platter for his parents. They had strictly forbidden all of their recently born cubs to exit the Iris territory. They were still very young and needed another few months before it would be safe enough to leave. Denim didn't want to wait any longer, however. His curiosity had got the better of him, and he left while his mother went to sort of some business with dogs in the alleyways, and his father was seeing to a feline that wished to join the Iris Pride. While his siblings were fast asleep, bloated from their morning feed, Denim sneaked out of the hospital and stealthily made his way out of the Pride without a feline noticing him. Perhaps it was because he was so small that he managed to sneak past everyone and hide in the shadows. Denim reckoned that his scent would be thick of Iris and his parents, however no one even turned their head while patrolling. It was more than likely that his parents would realise he was gone, and send out a huge search party to find him. Rolling his eyes, Denim headed towards the odd looking tracks on the ground. It was impossible for Denim to understand what these tracks mean. He'd been told about humans when he was very young, and how they had grown too cocky and died out. Denim had shivered at the thought that they were living in a dead man's building. Still, Denim soon got used to the idea that humans had died. Mother had told him that they used to cage up lions for humans to watch them. They became attractions that humans would pay to look that. Denim had been horrified at the thought, and was glad that humans had died out several years ago. His paws grazed the wooden planks that formed part of the railway. Frequent rainfall had rotted the wood and in several places it was falling apart. Frowning, he looked at his paws and the planks and the gravel. No, he didn't understand the point of all of this. Denim didn't even know what humans looked like. He was told they walked only on their hind legs, and consisted of only a bit of fur. The thought made him chuckle, because it sounded so ridiculous. Looking up at the sky, Denim squinted. The sun was beating down on him, yet he was a lion and they were used to warm weather. Still, he was beginning to pant from the heat, and went to find heat under a large box with wheels that sat on the tracks. He didn't realise that this was a train, and was a very common method of transport when humans still lived. Crawling underneath the train where it was cool, Denim stared out at the world. It was extremely claustrophobic when he was cooped up in the hospital everyday, all day. Sometimes Florence accompanied her cubs on walks to the alleys, and sometimes the rooftops, however most of the time they were stuck in their room, unable to do anything but keep each other company. Denim reckoned it had been at least an hour that he had strayed from the Pride, meaning that everyone had probably figured out he was missing. Denim felt a little sorry that he would panic his parents and his siblings, and he was sure his mother would punish him severely. His fur prickled at the thought, as he was often terrified of his mother. He often had an odd scent about her - which she explained was dog - and it was always mingled with blood and death. Denim was only just beginning to understand the concept of death, and he didn't like it. Closing his eyes, Denim wondered when he would start heading back. He was lucky he hadn't run into any rabid dog that wanted to rip his throat out. Florence was always telling him how every dog wanted to murder him in cold blood, and yet Denim hadn't come across any, so they didn't seem too eager to kill him. Snorting to himself, he half hoped he would come across a dog, to see whether the stories his mother told him were just lies. Did every dog want to kill him? Yet he was also a little scared; what if a dog came and did want to kill him? He was in no position to fight, so he would just have to run for his life. Denim, however, was not a fast runner. Shuddering, Denim just bit his lip and hoped for the best.

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[atrb=background,http://i1129.photobucket.com/albums/m515/kezzi1/Natiripuppymiddle.jpg] The day was turning out to be quite splendid actually, the sky was a infinite azure canvas without a single ivory cloud blotting the view. The golden sun beamed down, it's rays warming everything it touched. While most animals relished the arrival of summer, a certain little puppy was less than pleased. A dark pelted ball of fur was making her way down the railway track, and had rather quickly discovered that perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea. The midnight-black fur upon the top of her body attracted the sun to it, causing Natiri to feel like she was on fire. Had the two month old puppy been bigger she might have been able to cope with this misfortune, but the poor little girl was only a young. Too young in all honesty to even be wandering around so far from home, yet Iri preferred time on her own in comparison to the madness she endured with her family. Natiri felt so out of place, her four other brothers and sisters were so outgoing, brave, loud, playful. The small fluffy puppy was quiet, thoughtful and shy. She wasn't very good at expressing her emotions, if she truly felt any in anycase. She felt awkward in social situations, and seriously felt uncomfortable speaking in front of others. They were interested in war and meeting a feline for the first time, all she cared about was the world around her and how it worked exactly. Why was it summer? What caused the night and day? Whether there was anything more than this life? Already these kind of questions flew into her mind, and bounced of the walls. Still, she was far too young to completely comprehend the meaning of such questions but all the same.. they were there. Iri hated it when the forced her into playing some silly game of tag, or play fighting. Why waste your energy to be squished and tugged, no way! Admittedly, it had taken a great deal of skill to escape from her parents' watchful eyes and ears. Natiri had come up with a suitable diversion, by luring Victoria, the girliest of them all into a particularly large ants nest. Iri herself had watched in silent amusement as her loud sister wailed and yelped as the red insects launched a full blown attack. Whilst the rest of her family crowded round her grey sibling, the black, tan and white female had slipped away unnoticed. Finally away from the Pack and the Mental Asylum, away from her siblings infuriating voices, their constant bickering where she could simply enjoy the ... silence. People underestimated the power of a moments' silence. Where one could merely relish in the pure peace, for that second everything fitted into place and you could take a step back from the busy insanity of life. So far she had managed to totter her way out of Tempest territory and had ended up on these intruiging tracks. Natiri lowered her muzzle to the ground and immediately picked up thousands of different scents, a prey animal had passed across the tracks no longer than an hour ago at quite a speed, it had rained last night and ... something else. It was something that instinctively made the fur on the back of her neck stand up, which Iri highly disliked. She had no idea what it was, and never actually scented such a potent smell before. Still, she was a curious little thing and decided to follow it. Nemesis and Clegane had both warned their offspring of cats, and how they were all vicious, back-stabbing creatures, that would rip out your heart without a second thought. Iri however thought this completely stupid, for one, how could a animal rip out one's heart? Impossible, and two; how was it realistic for every single member of that species lack a drop of decency. It just didn't make sense. So she wandered after the scent, her small paws beginning to ache a little. Natiri hadn't travelled this far before, and it crossed her mind that perhaps she should take a little rest. Well, let's just find out where this trail leads first. So far it had led straight up to one of the huge boxes, with many wheels. Natiri of course had no idea what these were, as her parents hadn't get told Iri of the human's existence. She slowed. The scent was strong here, and very very recent. The puppy hadn't been expecting to actually bump into the animal that had left this, and shiver of uncertainly rippled down her spine. Taking a deep breath, and thinking of her mother and how brave she was, Natiri snuck underneath the carriage. What she saw, however, certainly wasn't anything to fear. It took a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the semi-darkness, before Natiri made out a small figure at the far end. It looked young, and small only a little bigger than herself. Iri heaved a sigh of relief, thanking the Gods that it hadn't been a big scary cat.. Taking a step-backwards, she contemplated simply walking away. The black and tan canine really didn't welcome the idea of having to talk to this.. well, this... hang on, what exactly was this thing? It had tawny-brown fur, with bright chocolate eyes. It was a weedy little creature, and a mixture of pity and relief stirred inside her. Yet, Natiri didn't sympathize, she didn't empathize. She didn't really feel. Her parents had warned her that cats had sharp long claws, nasty slitted eyes, long thin tails and long fangs. This animal didn't really fit any of those discriptions. Nevertheless, Iri decided to let her curiousity takeover. Plus, she was tired and hot so had no intention of being oofed out again. Taking a deep breath, and sitting down as far away from the youngster as possible Natiri began - "So.. " Oh dear, what a way to start a conversation. WORDS // 1.000 exactly NOTES // That's how terribly awkward she is lawl <33 MUSE // improving ^^ ADDITIONAL // looking forward to this plot! woo <3

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[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/167uwox.jpg,true] All muscles in Denim's body seized up when he suddenly caught the smell that only he had caught a whiff of in the prison rooms of the hospital. Mother had often told them that that was the reek of the scum of the earth: dogs. Denim wrinkled his nose as he breathed in the scent. He still had a long way to go before he understood scents entirely; he was still young and clueless as to work out what pack the dog was in, or how old the said dog was. It would take time and effort before Denim figured out the complexities of scents. Father had explained to him that dogs' noses were much more sensitive than cats, meaning that they were at an advantage with smell. They could smell out a cat miles away, whilst cats had to be much closer. Denim didn't like the thought of that. Especially as he was only now smelling this dog, who could most likely smell him. Holding his breath, Denim stared out at the sunny scene from out of the shadow of the train. Where was the dog? Were they going to kill him? A coward was something Denim had been called by his siblings a few times. When a prisoner had managed to escape their room and headed straight for his siblings, it was Denim who was first to run and hide. Of course, no one had been harmed. Florence had been there in seconds and had killed the dog with one swift bite to the neck. Denim had thought he was being logical; the prisoner was larger than his siblings and could easily kill them, so there was no point even trying to fight. Denim had been dubbed the coward and nothing he could say or do could prove his siblings, and the rest of his family, wrong. Denim never liked the idea of fighting, however. Already his mother was training them all to fight, yet Denim often sat on the sidelines, watching idly. He wasn't interested in killing, he wasn't interested in ripping another being's throat out. It was a horrible way to die, especially if they had a family of their own. Yet Denim didn't have much time to think about his fight or flight reflex as he stayed glued beneath the train. Pricking his ears, Denim began to hear the quick crunch of gravel beneath another animal's paws. Denim couldn't help but let his chest constrict, and he had to breathe. The breathe wasn't that loud, but loud enough to be noticed by an animal with sensitive ears. His chest rattled and he couldn't help but choke out another breath. Oh God. He was panicking. There was no need to panic. You're a lion, Denim. You have teeth and claws, even if you're still small you can cause harm if you need to. Of course. Yes, that's right. Denim had pretty sharp claws for a cub, meaning he could easily scratch an eye out if he needed to. This wasn't the case, however. A face suddenly appeared beneath the train, and Denim nearly laughed at how small this dog was. She was smaller than him! Of course, Denim had been taught that size wasn't everything. Even small animals could cause a lot of harm. Still, Denim knew that he was at an advantage with size if she wanted to attack. Which, apparently, she didn't. The dog was crawling beneath the train with him, and it took a few seconds for her to adjust to the darkness, before she studied the lion properly. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Denim shifted awkwardly, and lowered his gaze. His tail flicked agitatedly against the ground when he suddenly jumped as her voice filled the silence. He stared incredulously at her at the uttered word. Was that it? All that panicking had been for nothing, and now this puppy was trying to strike a conversation with him? His mother's voice was warning him in his head not to answer, but to kill the puppy. It would be so easy, if he got the jugular. However, Denim was not a murderer, and she was just a defenceless puppy after all. She had done nothing wrong, as far as Denim was aware. "Um." Denim supplied, and grimaced at the terrible reply. Another few seconds of silence filled the air as Denim grappled for any words to make this better, "I'm Denim, son of Panja and Florence." Denim finally said proudly, puffing out his chest. As much as he disliked his mother sometimes, Denim was still slightly proud to have such parents, especially Panja. He was an amazing lion, and was nowhere near as frightening as his mother. He blinked a few times, before watching the puppy expectantly. She may as well give him a name.

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[atrb=background,http://i1129.photobucket.com/albums/m515/kezzi1/Natiripuppymiddle.jpg] Natiri had no idea where to look in these kinds of situations, not that she had been in many! Certainly she kept herself to herself, in fact she rarely spoke to anyone except her family. She didn't know many of the pack, only those who she caught sight of every now and again. Still, she doubted she could put more than three faces to a name, not including her siblings and parents. It wasn't that she hated her own species, or anything like that.. she just didn't feel the need to converse with anyone if she didn't have a good reason to. Iri never did anything she didn't believe worth doing, everything was done to expand her knowledge and understanding of the world around her. Some called her rude and impolite in the Tempest Pack, yet what did she care of opinions of insignifcant blathering canines. They meant nothing to her, they were hardly insightful. So, as she sat there, huddled away from the tawny brown cub, Natiri pondered as to what she could get from this conversation. What this creature was for a start, and where did it come from!? She glanced up at the animal, and felt her fur prickle under his disbelieving stare. Iri flattened her ears in discomfort, and wriggled an inch further away despite finding her rear end poking out from the carriage. It had taken her a great deal of effort to even bother trying to talking to him, and now he was staring at her like a dumbo! Still, she hadn't exactly started it off well had she.. By this time he had muttered a word, and it only heightened the rediculously tension between the pair of them. It made her want to turn tail and ride her turtle out of this awkward situation. So he was called Denim, the product of who and who? Panja and.. Florence! Florence, yes she had definitely heard of that name thrown about the aslyum. It hadn't been in a good light, mind. In fact one golden lab had been cussing about how he would rip her eyes out if he got hold of the great big 'lion'. Hang on, if Florence was a lion then this cub before her.. must be a lion too! Not that this meant anything at all to her. She hadn't a clue what a lion looked like! Narrowing her eyes at how the little guy had puffed out his chest, from what she had heard Natiri would be lowering her head in shame if this dreaded Florence was his mother. Iri cocked her small fluffy head, and twitched her ears. "You're a lion then..? Hmm. That means your a .. your a cat" This revelation caused only a brief ripple of surprise across her face before it returned to its previous state of emotional lockdown. "You're a lot smaller I expected, and why haven't you already killed me? Surely, if you are a feline.. I would be dead by now. Yet here I am, breathing. Tell me, if we are enemies, why aren't we at eachothers throats right now?" She stared unblinkingly now into Denim's brown eyes, searching for the answers. Ever since she had been born Natiri had been taught to fear and hate felines, yet right now all she felt was curiousity and puzzlement. There wasn't anything remotely scary about this cat, where was the catch. He didn't look evil, or about to eat her face off. Was this deep-rooted rivalry all a lie? WORDS // 591 NOTES // x-x-x-x-x-x-x MUSE // bleh ADDITIONAL // x-x-x-x-x-x

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[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/167uwox.jpg,true] Denim wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to this dog. It had been etched in his mind since the day he was born that he should kill or torture any dog he came across. However, this particular puppy had done nothing wrong. She probably had a mother and a father and siblings and friends back in her Packlands. If she died, she would cause grief for many, perhaps have others lust for his blood, lust for any blood from a canine. Her death could spark a catalyst for future, gruesome events. Denim wondered whether his parents had ever thought in that level of detail while regarding a dog. He wondered whether they thought dogs had feelings just like cats did. Frowning and cocking his head, Denim decided that his mother probably didn't give it a second thought when she slashed open the throat of an innocent dog that had had no qualms against felines. She probably didn't think of their family, who would come across his mangled body and grow angry with felines. They would most likely join the Tempest and that is how and why the Packs and Prides were growing larger. The more innocent you killed, the more the rivals will join in the war. It was a logical step that didn't sound so logical to his mother. Sighing, Denim knew that his mother would not listen to him if he tried to explain the logic of it all. She would laugh in his face, tell him all dogs were evil, and leave it at that. Denim kept his eyes on the puppy before him, and could see the emotions running off of her face. She was just like him, despite the difference in appearance and animal. They were just two cubs that had strayed a little too far away from home. He wondered whether she was curious, a bit like Denim. Although Denim was curious and dismissive of his Pride, he was still a coward at heart. The sheer thought of taking part in a battle against canines made him feel sick to the core. The thought of having dogs lunge at your throat and with guts and blood spilling everywhere made Denim want to throw up. His stomach gurgled uneasily, and Denim shifted with embarrassment. As much as he wanted to look a bit brave for the dog, he was demonstrating powerless, submissive body language, with his head bent low and slowly shuffling back. His mother would have spat in his face and disowned him there and then, if she had found out. When the puppy finally came to the conclusion that he was a cat, he half expected her to jump at him and begin to attack him. When that didn't happen, he looked up in surprise and just watched and waited, while she spoke. The puzzlement in her voice definitely surprised Denim, and it seemed they were on the same wavelength. Slowly, the two cubs were beginning to realise that the lies their parents were telling them were causing an unnecessary war. "You are a dog, yet you are nothing of what my mother has described them to be," Denim claimed, voice bold and unwavering as he spoke, "She described them as heartless, as beasts that deserved to die. Forgive me if I am wrong, but you seem nothing like that." Denim met her gaze and kept it for as long as possible. Once he was sure she would not attack him, Denim relaxed a fraction, before realising he didn't know her name, "You know of my name and my heritage, yet I know nothing of you." Denim prompted unsubtly. Confusion was flooding in Denim. He wanted to go back to the Iris and demand why his mother had lied to him about dogs. He wanted to show his siblings the truth about them. If they didn't find out the truth, they would grow up into murders, fighting battles against dogs and killing any canine that got in their path. Denim had been his half-siblings, sired by the Lexis leader Streiter, and now unthinkingly killing anything that reeked of canine. Shuddering out of fear for the future, Denim looked back at the puppy and tilted his head a little to get a closer look at her. Denim had few friends his own age, save for his siblings. He reckoned he was older than this puppy, judging by his size, and the size of her, however that didn't stop him longing to be her friend. He got lonely in the hospital and he wished there were more cubs and kittens in the Iris Pride. It seemed the birth rate around about now was incredibly low, meaning he had to spend most of his time with his siblings, or adults. After a few moments of a pregnant silence, Denim spoke again, mostly out of burning curiosity, "Why're you nowhere near your Packlands? Did you runaway? Why?" He asked, feeling a little rude to be poking into the puppy's private life, however he wanted to make decent conversation with her. As much as his paws itched and begged to be played with, he kept them firmly grounded. He didn't want to scare her away, or make it look as though he was attacking the poor puppy.

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[atrb=background,http://i1129.photobucket.com/albums/m515/kezzi1/Natiripuppymiddle.jpg] She sat silently, staring at the lion cub in a blank fashion. She couldn't quite comprehend what situation she had got herself into but she no longer feared it. Instead she was quite amazed and excited by the prospect of having a full conversation with a cat! Hah! If her parents ever found out about this, Natiri knew she would be in big big trouble. Nemesis and Clegane were Tempest dogs till their last breath, and she understood fully that they wouldn't waver from their hatred of felines simply because their daughter had spoken to one. What she didn't quite understand was why. Why hate a whole species when you might have fallen out with a couple over land, or territory and whatever. Apparently it was instinctual to hate cats, but as Natiri sat her now only a metre or so away from one.. she felt only intense curiousity. She thought briefly about what her siblings would do in this situation, after pondering on this for a moment or two Natiri came to the conclusion that they would either run or fight. To the small fluffy pup both options seemed unneccessary. This Denim seemed nice enough, he hadn't hissed or claw her face off as of yet so why attack him? Why even run when you had such a perfect opportunity to expand one's knowledge of these adverse yet intruiging creatures? Nonsense, what foolish nonsense. She didn't doubt that if her brothers and sisters found out they wouldn't let this one go, they wouldn't fail to taunt her and tease her till she couldn't take anymore. It wasn't that she.. disliked her family as such, she just wasn't alike to them. Iri really wasn't that brave, or hateful or even fiery. She was quiet, a pacifist and uncaring. She literally had nothing in common with her family, and in a way it unsettled her. "You are a dog, yet you are nothing of what my mother has described them to be," Natiri looked up, hearing his voice once more. She didn't make any movement or sound to acknowledge his voice. "She described them as heartless, as beasts that deserved to die. Forgive me if I am wrong, but you seem nothing like that." She watched as he held her gaze, her brown eyes glimmering with what seemed like.. excitement. It was about 60 seconds before she replied, slowly and quietly."They lied. We are living a lie." She nodded, her tail twitching as her mind worked. They had indeed made this up then, that every single feline was a devil in disguise! This was revolutionary, they could change the whole ideaology of the war and turn it into peace. A strong and sudden desire hit her, she knew exactly what she wanted to do but also the knowledge that it would take time and dedication. Natiri wanted to stop this madness, even at this age, she wanted to stop the death of all those wasted lives over nothing! The animals of Hexasol could live in freedom and enjoy the plenty together.. if only they could learn. If only they were so blind to the truth.. She didn't smile or giggle like perhaps her sisters would have, she didn't bounce around with excitement or playfullness. Natiri wasn't like your average puppy, and one might have mistaken her for an ten year old had it not been for her body. Still, she wasn't completely unaware that he had prompted her to reveal her name and information. Still she was wary, her nature itself was untrusting let alone her parents drilling it into her to never tell a cat anything. Yet feeling slightly hypocritical forced the words from her lips, "Natiri. Tempest Pack." She studied his face for any emotions be it anger or hatred, and her heart quickened slightly. She took a deep breath as he probed deeper into her reasons for being out here, her life even. Unsure as to how to react, Natiri looked down at her paws awkwardly and held her breath. "I'm not like my family. I needed some fresh air, they - well.. they get overwhelming at times. Leave me no headspace to think." He flicked her tail just thinking about her siblings. "I am only young, I would die if I ran away from home. Clearly." She met Denim's gaze, in a somewhat less intense manner, a mere shadow of a amusement hinting in her eyes alone. "You?" WORDS // 745 NOTES // apologies for this taking SO FRICKING LONG MUSE // average :-) ADDITIONAL // x-x-x-x-x-x

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[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/167uwox.jpg,true] Denim wasn't at all surprised when the puppy, Natiri he found out her name to be, mentioned she was in the Tempest Pack. His mother had fed him awful tales of that Pack, and how ruthless they could be. Yet as he looked at the puppy that was sitting so close to him, Denim found that he no longer believed the stories she had told him. She was a liar, a liar who was hell bent on killing every last dog. She would kill Natiri, this innocent puppy who had done nothing to harm anyone. The only reason she would give was because she was a dog. Denim couldn't get his head around why they couldn't just live in harmony. Surely, if canines and felines were able to work together, then the whole of Hexasol would be so much stronger. Denim had often heard of whispers of the Lexis Tribe, a pack in which canines and felines could live side by side, and wanted this war to end. The last Denim had heard, the Lexis Tribe was slowly crumbling, and the members were dwindling. "No one would believe us," Denim sighed frustratedly, "Already my brothers and sister have been brainwashed into believing that dogs need to die. With each generation, the hate just gets more passionate, and the reasons just fade." Denim glared down at his paws furiously. The Iris and the Tempest were the two largest packs in Hexasol. Denim was well aware that they wouldn't be able to convince them that the others weren't evil. The more the packs bred, the more puppies and kittens and cubs would grow up into believing their parents' hate. Closing his eyes, Denim let out a sigh. When he's older, Denim vowed for everything to change. He would not just sit by and let his family keep killing innocent dogs. Perhaps he should try and show his siblings the truth? Yet Denim knew, in the back of his mind, that they wouldn't believe him. "It's nice to meet you Natiri. I have heard horrible, terrible things about the Tempest Pack. All of which seem to be lies." Denim looked back up into Natiri's eyes, and he swallowed thickly. He wondered whether Natiri was thinking the same as him, whether she was considering leaving the Tempest Pack when she's older. How could she live within a pack that hated felines, when she was talking to one right now? Denim looked out from under the train, and saw that the light was beginning to dim. Biting his lip, he raised his head to gaze back at the puppy. Maybe Natiri was just one puppy in a thousand? Maybe her siblings, other puppies in the Tempest, were ruthless killers? Maybe it was in their blood to be killers? Denim was thoroughly confused, and his head was beginning to hurt from all this thinking. Finally, at the question, Denim shrugged. "I sneaked away. I don't feel close to my family and I needed some air. It gets painfully boring walking the same corridors everyday." Suddenly, Denim's eyes widened, "Oh God, when I get back, mother is going to smell me! She's going to realise I was with a dog." Denim's heart raced. Although he hadn't directly touched Natiri, he knew that the scent had most likely drifted onto him. Despite it being a faint smell, his mother had a powerful nose, and she would always be smelling for canine. If she found out he had been near a dog... she would be furious. Denim began to tremble at the thought. He was a coward for fearing his own mother. "What's the best way to get rid of a scent? I can't let myself smell of a Tempest dog!"

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[atrb=background,http://i1129.photobucket.com/albums/m515/kezzi1/Natiripuppymiddle.jpg] It was at that very moment that Natiri observed the frustration in his sigh, his voice but most of all his eyes. It was a emotion that she had become so overwhelmed with recently, and to realize that she wasn't the only one to feel this actually comforted her. Comfort certainly wasn't something the small fluffy pup was used to and it struck her, hard. She blinked slowly and dropped her gaze, taking a moment to regain her thoughts. Yet the revelation that this strange cat gave her comfort and reassurance stunned her, she couldn't understand it at all. Her parents had taught her to hate them, however nothing Natiri had so far discovered delivered her with a solid reason to do so. How odd. Natiri knew now not to trust nor believe every line her mother, father or pack fed her. The youthful canine was learning to think independently, maybe this was for the better anyway. Iri wasn't exactly the type of animal who followed orders in a submissive manner, no matter how much her parents attempted to drive the pack mentality of obeying authority into her. If authority told you to jump off the edge of cliff, would you do it? No of course you wouldn't, you tell them where to get off. Natiri nodded as Denim spoke, she felt exactly the same way. How could someone she was programmed to hate be so goddamn similar, this was seriously mind-messing. As the small cub stared down at his paws, Iri heard his words wring in her ears. The reasons did truly fade, for example Natiri had never heard the basis of why cats were evil. There was never any proper evidence of reason, always that they were corrupt and cared only about themselves. It had exasperated her, and until now she had never really understand. Natiri now knew that there wasn't a proper reason, it was simply inbred into them and there wasn't much any of them could do about it. The puppy however vowed to be different, no way was she going to be another sheep, another puppet in the leaders personal vendettas. Not any longer. "I wish I could convince my parents, my pack even.. but you and I both know it's not that easy. It's never going to be easy, is it?" She looked up questioningly, a sliver of her hoping that his answer would hold a positive outcome. She already knew his reply however. At his next words, Natiri could help but snuffle a little in amusement. "Might I say the same thing about Iris! It seems they've been exaggerating about felines since the day I was born. My father told me that there was once a demonic Iris tiger that roamed around the edge of Tempest territory, claiming the lives of fifteen pack members! I was terrified, but after meeting you, i'm struggling to believe it now. I mean, how could you be associated with murders, or me for that matter? Then again, in a sickening way, we are aren't we? I know my parents have killed cats, a ton of them I don't doubt, you might have even known a couple of them. The same for your mother and father, does that make them evil? Does it mean we have to follow in their footsteps? I hope not Denim, I really do. " The small puppy, sighed and stared down at her paws. She watched the way her blunt claws scraped against the sandy earth, a small beetle made it's steady way across the cool ground beneath the carriage. For a split second, Natiri wished she could just be that little beetle. Life would be so much simpler, she wouldn't have to decide between a life of senseless slaughter or the shame of her family resting upon her shoulders for eternity. How was she supposed to know what to do? She was barely three months old, and Iri was already bombarded with decisions, troubles and knowledge that none of her remaining siblings would ever have to deal with. It weighed hard upon such a small creature, and Iri felt it upon her chest. Natiri however was secretly proud of herself for discovering such incredible information, it was what she thrived upon. Had it been any other puppy, they might have crumbled under the stress yet Iri wasn't normal and she never had been. Her thoughts were once again distracted by the urgent, fearful sound of Denim. It snapped her immediately back to him, the last words she caught were 'What's the best way to get rid of a scent? I can't let myself smell of a Tempest dog!'. The dog pricked her ears, and stood up. The answer didn't come immediately, and despite racking her brain nothing came to mind. So instead Natiri decided on using her tuned acute sense of smell, the small puppy held around two hundred million odor-sensitive cells in her nose compared to a mere nineteen in felines. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift slightly. It took moments for the strong fragrance of garlic to hit her sensitive nasal passages, and her eyes shot open. Iri smiled softly, and turned around. "Come, follow me!" She slid out from underneath the carriage, and following her muzzle, Natiri led him away from the tracks. The path brought them directly to a small copse of trees that bordered with a larger forest behind that. Inside lay an abundance of fresh wild garlic leaves. The brown and white puppy sat down promptly, smiling silently to herself. WORDS // 925 NOTES // terribleterribleterribleheapofrubbish MUSE // its just a massive rambling mess ADDITIONAL // Sorry!

[♥Picasso]

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[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/167uwox.jpg,true] Denim briefly thought of approaching his parents, his siblings, his Pride and telling them the truth. Telling them that canines weren't inherently bad, and that it was all just a myth parents told their cubs and kittens to bring them up loathing them. Without even thinking, Denim knew the consequences that his findings would bring. His mother would call him a liar, tell him that he was wrong, desperately convince her children that Denim was just trying to turn against her. She'd probably insist that it was just a phase that Denim was currently going through, and that no one should listen to him. If Denim persisted, then he'd probably end up in a cell, locked away for no one to hear him. It was better to keep his mouth shut, and not tell anyone the truth, no matter how much he wanted to tell them. "It's never going to be that easy." Denim admitted with a resigned sigh. They were stuck. As Natiri spoke of what she had been told about the Iris, Denim grimaced. He wanted to say that the Iris weren't cold blooded killers, but he had seen some of those evil cats. They reeked of the stench of blood and death and canines. Their eyes would be glassy, unseeing, and they would be hellbent on getting their next canine death, perhaps for vengeance, maybe for the approval of Denim's mother. Denim felt his stomach roll at the thought of those sick cats. His mother, the Pride, had turned innocently normal felines into murderers. A lot of the hatred is stemmed from cubhood, and Denim began to wonder whether there was something they could do. If they began educating the younger generations, then maybe they will grow up with the truth and actually be in the power of making a decision whether they want to be allied with the Pride. Denim began to voice his opinion to Natiri, "I've heard the phrase that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, and I think I understand what that means. The older cats of my Pride would never change their opinions of dogs, but that doesn't stop us from convincing the cubs, kittens and pups that we aren't all bad." Denim knew they had plenty of time to think about what to do in the future, and he began following Natiri so that she could help mask the scent of canine in her fur. It was lucky that cats didn't have as many sensors in their nose like canines did. It would be easier for Denim to cover himself up after meeting up with his new friend. They arrived at the garlic leaves, and Denim's eyes brightened as he grinned. "Amazing!" He called, giving Natiri a tender lick on the cheek, before bounding towards the leaves. The scent wasn't overly nice, and his mother would still suspect that he was hiding something under the thick smelling garlic, but it was better than smelling of dog. Denim quickly began to roll his body into the blades, garlic soon mingling against his fur. After a couple of minutes, Denim's back was tinged dark brown from the dirt, but he had had a lot of fun making sure he smelt completely of garlic. Beaming at the puppy, Denim stood a little way away, so that she wouldn't infect his scent again. "I know we haven't been speaking long, but I have to get back to my family. Mother wouldn't be happy to know I'd snuck out of the Pride." Denim smiled apologetically as he began to turn to head back home. Turning back to look at the puppy, Denim called out, "I'll see you again, Natiri! Stay near Laredo River, and I'll one day meet you there." Denim promised, before turning and scampering into the forest.

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