Lost in Time (OPEN)

[Linkk]

It was an unusually hot day today in the feline kingdom, and any cat that wondered to the dead lands would become a victim of thirst. The ever growing need for a drink was very powerful in the little feline, and he did his best to subside his feelings. A young kit by the name of Linkk ran freely through the dead lands, in search of a missing person. He was lost.
Lost, lost he was, lost and in search of those he cared about. The little kitten had no idea where to begin his search, and he wasn't sure if he would even find who he was looking for. The storm clouds above his head were liars. They held no signs of raining, even though they seemed to be filled with moist water. Sweet, sweet water; something that he hadn't had in what seemed like a day or maybe even two.
The little kit sat himself down on a log, a dying log that had be stretched more then a few times by some kind of beast in search of food.
He looked up at the sky, why, why wouldn't it rain? Was there no hope for the little kitten? He let out a weak little meow and a call. A call to his mother.
that was who he was looking for, his mum, where she was he had no idea. He was in desperate need to find his mother, he missed her warm coat and her gentle snuggle. He missed the feeling of her carrying him in her mouth. The feeling of being close to someone was something that he missed dearly.
a wandering kit, would make a meal for any other larger predator, but the little kit was oblivious to what was going on around him. He let out a weak little howl to the sky; maybe just maybe someone would answer.

[Jack]

Jack

See ya in hell.

The big tan cat was bored. He couldn't help it, he always felt the need to wander through the territory, aimlessly searching for something to do. The young cougar felt deprived, he was such a social animal, why was he being shunned like this? Because he didn't have spots. Well, damn the stuffy old goats who thought that spots made you elite. Since when did color have anything to do with character? Sure, Jack was a devilishly handsome guy, but still, it was the guy under the good looks that made all the difference. Yes, spots looked hot o jaguars. But that didn't make them gods. They were just ordinary guys and girls, males and females. They ate, drank, socialized, got together, had babies, gotten old and died. They fought and died. They lived like any other thing that drew breath in this God forsaken world.

"Such racism!" he snorted. The big cat licked his nose a bit, glancing up at the sun. Damn, it sure was hot here. Why did he come out here to these dead lands where nothing really grew and the only thing to eat was lizards? The only thing to drink too for that matter. As he walked lazily through the scorching air, it took him a moment to feel the digging, searing pain in his paw. "OUCH!" he growled, lifting it up to examine it. A wood chip had been jamming it's way in between his toes, splintering and leaving little slivers as it went. Jack gnawed it out of his paw, and continued on his way. He was thirsty, but he was a hardy cat. He used to live in a big canyon where water was scarce, so he was used to not having a whole lot of water around here.

He had to be careful in this world. Around here, he was treated little better than a slave, however, his size and strength did earn him a little respect. He was slightly smaller than the bigger cats, so he could climb higher and run faster. He had some wicked claws on him and some long, sharp teeth as well. He was very agile, and could slip out of reach if somebody was after him. Why would somebody be after him? Because Jack didn't like being treated like a servant. And Jack had a sass mouth on him. For every time he commented on the bum of a nice looking jaguar-ess, or a leopard, they would come flying at him, claws unsheathed, ready to skin him alive. Okay, maybe it wasn't always that bad, but it wasn't a free country around here.

Before he realized it, the lanky cougar was humming quite loudly, when he heard a sound that made him pause mid-melody. Was that a cat? It was a long, high note of sorrow, and it sounded like it was coming from not very far away. Looking to the West, the cougar inhaled the scent, and found it to be feline. He changed course, and made his way over to the source. What he found made him sad. It was a young Ocelot, and by Jacks reckoning, that made him a runaway slave. He had seen them working, and they worked hard. Poor kid, he couldn't be much older than a year. Jack made his way up to the small cat, keeping his distance so as not to frighten him too badly.

"Hey there stranger, name's Jack, what might you be doing out here all alone?" he asked good naturedly. He made a valiant attempt to keep the flirt out of his voice, and he succeeded reasonably well. Not that he was hitting on a year old Ocelot...that would be messed up, even for HIM, but he just sounded extremely friendly. He was about six or seven feet away, and he waited for the young cat's answer. By the look of it, he wasn't going to last long out here, and Jack had already made up his mind to take the young cat with him, whether or not he agreed. Jack's mind was made up, and there was no changing it. However, he would at least attempt to be polite first.

words; 714
muse; bursting!
notes; LOVE JACK!!!! :D the will get along well.

[Linkk]

There was no use in wanting to find a place in this world he was born into. he often pondered to himself what it would be like if he was born into a higher class. He knew very well for an uneducated slave that class was everything in this world. It was a world that he had spent his entire life in, a world that he would always live in; he couldn't escape. This world was cruel and harsh; and the little ocelot knew that only the strong could survive in this world.

Surviving was not just one thing he wanted to do however; he wanted to live. However, living seemed impossible for a young one barley weened from his own mother. the comfortable fur that his mother once had was slowly fading from his memory; and how desperate did he want to revive that memory. The instant memories of his past were always in his mind; it kept his mother alive even if she wasn't; physically.

Not but only a few days ago was this little kit curled up in his mothers warm embrace, resting near the small fire they were allowed to make for once. It was warm and he was safe. the sounds of his litter mates were around him, and they made him feel at home. The life of a slave was not yet his own just yet; it wouldn't be until the kit reached a year old would he begin the hard labor that came with his species. For the days that he spent on the slave plantation; he mostly played with other kits; learning skills on how to survive the brutal life of a slave.

Linkk wasn't a slave however, at least, not yet. the small kit was a runaway indeed; but for how long was up to him. it was up to the Small kitten to keep himself free; he was on his own. Being alone was something that was so strange to him, made him feel so lost, so out of place. The idea of not having a place was so strange to him; and he almost missed being back on the plantation.

It was almost noon, the hottest point of the day when most creatures would hide in the shade. there was not any shade to be seen for this little creature, so he stood up against the log, watching the sky. the sky was lying to him, being as crude and evil as it could get. The clouds were carrying water, that was for sure; but they would not let him have any of their precious water. No one would have the clouds water. the clouds were selfish creatures.

Linkk heard a noise, and his ears instantly shot to the top of his head. They moved in the direction of the cougar before his eyes. He turned his head shortly after and quickly ruffled his fur. linkk knew how the larger cats scared others; with their size and intimidation. Linkk quickly reacted to the cat as if it were a threat. There was the certain possibility that it would want to attach him. Perhaps this creature had come to capture him; to turn him into the slave holders. Linkk wouldn't let that happen; and he was prepared for the worst.

With a small huff and a ruffle of his fur, he made himself look larger then he was; however, it mainly just made him look fluffy. The cat scooted closer to the log, nearly backing himself into a corner, as he bared his small baby teeth; which would soon begin the teething stage.

"Don't come closer! I'll bite you..."
Linkk spoke with hesitation, he was worried of his own words, perhaps he would get in trouble if he said that; but did it matter?

[Jack]

Jack

See ya in hell.

The little cat reacted strongly, as Jack had expected. He gave the young cat a pitying look; did he really think that he could fight Jack off? Jack was at least ten times his weight, and his large furry paws were almost as big as the young cats head. However, the little cat puffed up to defend himself, which, if possible, made Jack feel even more sorry for the little guy. He half smiled, loosing, for a moment, the cockiness that never strayed far. He took a step closer, but kept enough distance to keep out of reach of the kits nasty looking claws, and little sharp teeth. No, he wasn't about to be beaten up by an ocelot, but he really didn't feel like getting his face ripped up. He would much rather talk to the little guy.

"Hey, hey," he said calmly, his voice friendly and relaxed. "It's alright little buddy, I'm not here to hurt you," he said truthfully. "I'm not even hungry!" he said loudly over his growling stomach. However, despite this "white lie", it was actually, more or less true. No matter what size, or what species, Jack would die before he ate another cat. Kill another cat, maybe, but eat one? No. Never. However, he wasn't planning on doing either horrid deeds to this cat, as Jack was lonely. "Trust me, I would like to keep my nose intact today," he said. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

He wondered why this young cat was out here in the first place, and after a moment of contemplation, he realized only one explanation: this cat was a runaway. A slave. He probably had run away from his family (if he even had one), everyone he knew to escape such a terrible fate. Jack was lucky; he was too strong minded, and too sass mouthed to be a slave. He had fallen out of a tree in his youth and broken his back leg, only to be dragged back by a slightly pitying jaguar so that he could get medical help, and not once had he even whimpered. Jack could take his mind away, he could lock himself in a far away place and block out the pain. Not a desirable trait in a slave. However, he had proved a hard, and willing worker, and a respectful citizen (for the most part) so he had escaped being a servant, or a slave.

He still didn't gain much respect though. He hoped too one day, maybe if he proved himself in battle, or something along those lines. Or perhaps if he did something; spied, became a messenger, or something along those lines. However, even if this never happened, he had achieved something that allowed him to live a bearable life; he had gained enough respect to not be taunted in the streets, to not be treated as lowly dirt. He was still looked down on, but he held himself high, and would stare straight into the eyes of a jaguar without blinking. He had a ferocious pride in himself, and he wouldn't let go of that easily.

However, at the moment, he was not holding himself upright and proud, but rather was making himself small. He crouched down into a sitting position, low to the ground, and slightly below eye level with the terrified ocelot. "Buddy, if I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done that much quicker than you could have reacted." he said firmly. He hoped that the kit would trust him.

words; 600
muse; good
notes; blaarrrgh sorry that it took so long. o.o

[Linkk]

What kind of trick was this large cat playing on him? Surely, there was no reason for him to show an ocelot such kindness. The little kit had learned at an early age that it was not his place to defy such large cats or even question their authority. By the looks of the mountain lion, he was not a slave. His paws were not stained with scars and dirt. His paws were cleaner, and looked recently cleaned. His coat was smooth, there was dirt embedded into it, but that would be the case for any feline that wandered the waste lands. His face was not scratched either, no barring scars made their way across his body; he was for the most part; un-touched by other felines.

He can't be a slave, he doesn't look like one. He must be a servant...but he doesn't have a branding or mark to show for it...he is a civilian...someone to turn me in. The little cat made remarks in his mind, pondering the reasons as to why such a creature would be out and about the wastelands.

Linkk made a small hesitation as the mountain lion made a move forward only to then gently rest its body onto the dry and wasted ground. This sitting position seemed to calm the nerves on young ocelot as he slowly let his ruffled fur stick slowly back onto his body. the size of the cat began to diminish quickly as he now appeared to be smaller then what he was moments before. his size in which the fur created was just a mirage. This small cat was no threat, and wouldn't be a good meal either for that matter.


How am I supposed to talk to such a creature? Respect? Am I to fear him...?

Linkk thought to himself with a visible puzzled expression on his muzzle. his nose twitched gently as well as his ears, as if he had taken in the scent of something completely horrible. This expression melted quickly as he looked again at the mountain lion. it was going no where, that was for sure.

"You're not here to hurt me?" His question sounded almost like a plea. a small and meek voice that cracked at the sound of hesitation and fear. He had been at the mercy of bigger cats before, and they didn't often end well. The idea that this large cat would give him mercy of even friendship was unrealistic to him. Even though they could be in the same social class, friendship between the two species was rare. Most of the lower class species would still to their class and stay there.

The little cat left his claws extended from their natural sheaths. He cupped them into the dry dirt, ready to make a move. By the looks of his posture he was not ready to fight, but to flee. This kitten was not strong, but he was fast; he would admit. His small but razor sharp claws were ready if the opportunity to have to use them arose; either to flee or to fight.

[Jack]

Jack

See ya in hell.

Jack had never been one for rules. Rules shmules, he didn't care. He didn't care what those high in the social order thought he should do. He didn't care if they thought he was inferior, and that befriending different species was considered lowlife, especially if it was an "inferior" species. Jack didn't care what they taught, the world didn't care if you had spots, stripes, or a sexy tan, it was all about who was strong, who blended in, who was a good hunter, and who was a survivor. Status be damned.

The little ocelot seemed shocked that Jack was willing to be friendly, practically pleading with him. Jack looked at him slowly, his belly still on the ground, his ears pricked and his head tilted. He was, likewise practically begging the little cat to trust him. "No, I am not here to hurt you," he repeated. "And forgive me, but you look rather like you're going to burst into flames at any second. Would you care to look for water with me?" he asked. Now, when he said that, he wasn't expressing his exact method of searching. His method involved grabbing the little cat by the scruff of his neck, and carrying him, because walking seemed like something that would soon escape the little ocelot. Jack himself was quite thirsty, but he had only been out here for a little while; who knew how long the ocelot had been out here.

Jack was pushing his patience to the very limit. He was not a very patient cat, but if he wanted the little ocelot to trust him, then he had to exercise that irritatingly evasive virtue. He looked into the little cat's terrified eyes, and smiled warmly. True, it looked more like a smirk, but it was a friendly smirk. Jack wanted to be friendly, nothing more or less. He also wanted company. He already sort of considered the little cat his ward, and he wanted to protect him. They would eventually be making their way back towards civilization, and Jack would protect the kitten. Though the Jaguars might be tough and big, they could not get to the places that Jack could. He was quiet and quick...which was why he had been interested in joining the army.

Being a soldier often did wonders for status, generally if you were one with little status to begin with. It could also get you some friends, generally with tigers. Tigers were the brute force of the army, an why they didn't overthrow the jaguar monarchy was beyond Jack. Tigers were massive, intelligent, and powerful beasts who could probably run this territory much more successfully than jaguars. They were not nearly so prejudice. Jack liked tigers a lot, which was why he had half a mind to join the army; if he could prove himself worthy to them, he need not ever worry about being threatened with slavery again.

But for now, the ocelot was his job. He considered himself responsible for the little cat, because he wasn't about to leave him out here to be roasted alive in the boiling sun, and so he merely waited for the cats approval just to be polite. If the ocelot trusted him, he would take him to safety, and maybe at some point allow him to ride on his back, after all, he was small enough. If the ocelot didn't trust him, he would pick him up, take him to safety and the little cat would never have to see or hear from him again. Simple enough in the cougars eyes.

muse; good
notes; sorry it took so long, but there you go!!!

[Linkk]

This was so strange to the little kitten. Why would someone be so kind to him? Had there been someone out there who really wanted to show him kindness? The small cat let his body slowly loosen up, as he watched the larger cat in front of him. The claws that were once retracted began to pull into their sheaths. He looked at him with his multi colored eyes; the eyes still filled with childhood innocence.

Children were the one thing in this world that were still innocent it seemed. Unaware of the war at hand; and still innocent of the dangers of the world. The innocence of a child was something that for the most part; untouchable.
Linkk looked at the larger cat with what seemed like a more calm expression. The little cat was loosing his fear of this monster...no, this kind feline in front of him.

He slowly adjusted his posture and his bristled fur flattened against his body. He held his head high and his ears twitched, listening to the sounds of the wasted lands that he had found himself in. He tilted his head as he watched the cougar, he sniffed the air getting his scent; it sure didn't smell dangerous.
"I'm really thirsty. I'd love some water, mister." The small cat licked his lips, he could feel the dry and cracking lips that were once moist. He had been in this dry land for days, and hadn't had water for what seemed like ages. His throat was dry and he longed for the coolness of water on his tongue.

The little cat decided this cougar was someone he could trust, at least he hoped he could. Linkk walked over to the cougar and looked up at him from below. The cougar, even while sitting hovered over the small kitten. He smiled gently, and gave a nod.
The small kit was covered in dirt and grim; he never was the kind of kitten to bathe. He was still a kit; that was a job for his mother; whom he did not seem to know where she was.

Notes: sorry its a little short, I've got allot of things to get done, and I really wanted to get a reply in, thanks~