[Bintang]

    When everyone had gone to claim the borders, or whatever it was they were doing, Bintang had take the time to sleep. During the travel with Aylie, the girl killing herself and him to make it back to Nardir in some record time, he had torn up his paws, and had been licking at them since arriving. Kastra barely knew any herbs, and Bintang wasn’t going to go to anyone for help. But the prince had pointed towards some herb, not by name but by color and appearance. It had been a few days and his paws were already going back to normal, with the only pain coming from when he stepped on a pebble wrong and it went into an almost fully healed cut (granted, it probably would have hurt even if his paws were okay, but he would never admit that). He had spent his time in the pack den site, not allowed to sleep elsewhere just like everyone else. Soon they would all be going to their own area, but for now they were stuck and Bintang felt himself growing irate with the closeness of it all.

    As the sun rose he was quick to his paws, leaving the common site to go out on his own. If there had been anyone going to continue their little border game, or just in general leaving the den site, he would barely even look at them, lickin his lips slightly from hunger, and also just to keep his annoyance from showing. He went directly to some river, which he had heard it being named after some former member of Nardir that had died, in his mind it screamed that there was nothing for his father who had died for their king. But his father had not been apart of this land, he figured. He didn’t care as much, though. It was something petty inside him. The tiger took quick sips of the water, and started to move along. He wasn’t sure if there was a limit as to where he could go, not having really been spoken to, and not having heard anything. The tiger just kept walking, until he was in a field.

    He was not assigned hunter, and wondered if that meant he wasn’t really allowed to hunt. There had been food in the past few days, but there was still hunger gnawing at his stomach. What appeared to be a small herd of deer were off in the distance, not having picked up his scent. Bintang laid on the ground, the grass sprouting around him as his purple eyes stayed on the prey. But he made no movement, not going after them. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble. Not because he would be in trouble, but because he would be scolded by a dog (wolf, but they were all the same to him). He was still working on feeling like he was one of them. So he laid his head down on his paws, eyes barely able to see the tops of the deer’s heads. If they didn’t move in an hour or so, he felt like he was probably going to take them down.

[Kimster]

Too many wolves. Just too many other bodies too close around her. It felt as if they were stealing the very air she was meant to breathe! She was allright with her close family - Byakko and Sara and the grandchildren, Akutan and of course Schimmah. The big guy that reminded her of an older big guy - Byakko had said something about it being his father - well, that guy she can't remember from one moment to the next and thus regarded him with barely concealed distrust. But being confined to one communal area with her, at best, faulty memory was grating on her nerves. It felt as if everytime she looked anywhere there was a new face, sending her into a panic on who it is friend or foe!

And now apparantly her daughter had shown up. A daughter she can barely remember having. As yet the girl had not come over to say hello, and Raka had not felt confident enough to go to her. Even with Sara she had trouble remembering her unless smelling her fur. The black female sighed, her breath rippling the grass in front of her nose. Wondering not for the last time whether coming back had been such a good idea. No. No it was. She was with Byakko again. Even on bad days, she remembers him. She brought her mind back to the task at hand: hunting deer. She may be old, she may be senile, but she can still damn well hunt! She watched the prey moving slowly about, keeping herself downwind and then...

Ugh!

That stink!

Cat!

She tensed, and flicked her ears, trying to pinpoint the smell. Hmm. The smell was surrounded by the pack's smell. Was this cat part of us? Well hey, whether he was or wasn't, she wouldn't be able to remember anyway, so let's just go on the assumption that he was a good guy. Ugh why do feline's smell so bad? And it was just absolute pure luck that she was slightly downwind of him. Raka preferred to assume she was just much better at camouflage and staying hidden that him. Her nose wrinkled - did she imagine the slightest taint of blood on him? Flicking a look at the deer and seeing that they were still blissfully unaware of their status as breakfast, Raka slowly and silently prowled closer to the cat.

"You stink." she breathed, her voice as low as she can pitch it so as not to attract the attention of the deer. She was close enough for the feline to hear her, but the grass still obscured their view of each other. "How good are you at hunting." she asked. Her voice completely neutral - she wanted to know his estimation of his skills, as a plan was beginning to form in her swiss cheese noggen.