Demon in the nest (open)

[daenerys]

Daenerys stalked through the shadows. The moon was out and the bright light pained her eye that loved the dark. Her ruin was on the side with the wall, so none would see and stare. She hated stares. She was already a monster. Why did cats always stare and confirm it? Daenerys felt a sudden urge to turn her body away from the wall and walk in to the moon light. Let them stare. She was the dragon. The dragon didn't cower at stares. The burned fae turned away from the shadows and walked in to the light. Her gruesome face looked around and the normal eye studied the area around. Her eyes frove over a shape in a tree. The shadow turned in to an owl. It took flight and the hole where her heart used to be leapt with it. Her eye closed as the hole imagined flight. The drop of her stomach and the rush of air. Magical. She shook her head and got rid of the thoughts. There was no use dreaming of what could never be.

Daenerys Targaryen continued on her night stroll. Her mind had to have something to occupy it. She wasn't one for sleep. Sleeping meant reliving the adventure with her brothers. Her dead brothers. She smiled and gleaming fangs flashed in the light. They had paid. The had paid with their lives. Daenerys sat down and wrapped her tail around her paws. The feel of fur against skin was very strange. Goosebumps sprang up on her bare skin. The dark grayness of it from the burns was hard like leather. She opened her thin eyelid and her empty eye hole showed its face to the world. Her mind dared any to come and look upon her in her "beauty".

[Linkk]

Not all the felines that prowled the castle were strong and powerful. A majority of the felines that called this castle home had earned their place in the castle. There was a sense of power that hummed in the castle and with all of its inhabitants. Some of them had scars that proved they were worth while. Many of them had killed their fair share and spilt plenty of blood. All of them had made their claim to fame; all except for perhaps one small kit.

Linkk. The small feline that the castle now would call its own wandered the castle with his large paws. This small feline was bright in the face and alive with life. The small kit was a mere servant in the castle but a favorite to the chief and his mate. The small kit had found his way into the castle and now called it his own as well; his large kitty pride now shinning through. However the castle was no place for a kitten of his stature.

The small ocelot often did encounter his fair share of threats, and often found himself in the jaws of a higher authority. Many knew he was just a slave but kept away from him due to Renn and Paxx’s attraction to him. He was a cute young thing; any feline could say it.
Bright multi-colored eyes hung with life in his face. To the left green, to the right, blue. The small kit’s eyes were hetero and were bright as day. His figure was small and ruffled with a spotted coat. It was almost always kept clean now that he lived and breathed through the castle. He was but a speck in a castle of giants, but he didn’t care.
It made him feel important walking these halls; however, he knew the dangers. The small kit walked with gentle paw steps, his padded paws making gentle pitter patter noises against the cold ground. As the small kitten turned a corner his eyes came to meet on almost a monstrous sight from which his nightmares came. A large leopard that seemed to merge with a creature of legend, burned all along its body. The small kitten came to a hault as his eyes rested upon the creature in front of him. The burnt leopard seemed to send a chill through his spine as he dared not move. He had never seen such a creature before; but there was a first time for everything.

[daenerys]

The burned one heard the quiet sound of small paws on the ground and turned her head to behold the small ocelot that came in to her range of vision. The thing looked terrified at the sight of her. Well, she would call the tiny whelp an idiot not to be scared of her. She called out in her rough voice You like Daenerys' face? She didn't speak properly anymore. She hadn't spoken right since she lost her beauty. The leopardess stood up smoothly and walked closer to the feline. Kin. She studied the kit as she sat down and made different strategies to kill him if it came to a battle. She did this with all, even kin. Being blood hadn't saved Jay, Shade, Sire, or Dam. Blood and kin were labels, and Daenerys didn't give a fig about labels.

The place where her heart had been didn't feel any remorse about flashing her empty eye socket at the young ocelot. The only feeling in the hole where her love used to reside was hatred and rage. Rage at the world and hatred towards all that breathed on it. The dragon was the personification of rage. She was the dragon. She asked in a polite tone What you.. She strugled with the word err... what you... name? She silently cursed herself for not knowing the word. She hated speech. She didn't want to improve her speech though. Her voice was like her personality. Twisted and wrong.

[Linkk]

The small kit gave a worried look to the large leopard. The large creature before him was from mythology it seemed. The cat in front of him was one of those creatures that his mother would tell him about to make sure he behaved. The creature would surely eat him. Had he done wrong? Did he deserve to be eaten alive at this very moment? Perhaps the creature was sent to punish Linkk; but for what?
The little cat lowered his ears against his head; he knew when it was appropriate to be submissive to the largest cats. He had learned fast and easily that when it came to danger; submitting was the best thing to do. He lowered his head and looked up with his multi colored eyes. He began to shiver slightly at the sight of the missing eye. This creature was a monster; and it must be out for blood.
All Linkk could do was mutter simple words from his mouth. His muzzle twitched and his nose quickly smelt the air for any other familiar smell; but the only scent that came his way was dry burnt flesh. He almost felt sorry for the large burnt cat; almost.
”Linkk…My name is Linkk…Are you gonna eat me?”
Linkk muttered out with fear as he drew in a breath. It seemed as if the air was getting thicker around him; or perhaps that was just fear at its finest. He knew what it was like to be in the position where death was just around the corner; but he wouldn’t give in just yet. If he had to he would make a run for it, but not yet. Running could trigger the felines weak mind into attack mode; make it want to kill. Running would do him no good if he didn’t have to just yet. Maybe, just maybe the kit could reason with the large beast in front of him. He was low to the ground and almost ready to roll onto his back if need be; he had seen the other servants do it before; it seemed to work for them, so why not for himself?

[daenerys]

Wait. This whelp thought that Daenaryes was here to eat him!? A rumbling chuckle formed in her chest and her body shook slightly as it rolled out like a clap of thunder. She closed her eyelid over the eyesocket to be polite to the kitten. Daenerys answered in her rough voice Cat is gross. Speak up, be proud and strong, not weak. She lowered herself so she was almost level with Linkk. She didn't feel any warm fuzzies for the ocelot Linkk. She didn't get why the small one semed scared and submissive when he could be a tiny demon. Quicker then large animals and more agillity.

Daenerys looked down on the ocelot and felt a swift bolt of envy. His pelt was beautiful. . . and whole. He seemed pure and uncorupted too. She framed her words carefully to try and be understandable How long Linkk see and breathe? She didn't know the word for life. She knew death, but life had become lost to her vocabulary. She could make do by using other words. Some might have to take a few heartbeats to comprehend her speech.

[Linkk]

The small kit looked at the burnt one with his eyes shining bright. He was an ever curious and innoncent one, open to the world but closed off by fear. He was un sure what to think about the large cat that stood in front of him, perhaps she was friendly. Linkk often tried to make amends before making enemies. He was not the type of cat that would win in any kind of fight anyway. Despite what he thought to himself; he was no warrior. Linkk could tell that the large cat was no immediate threat so he began to relax his body slightly. He always felt better when he could relax, or atleast somewhat relax. He didn’t like to be on edge all the time; it bothered him so. Even if he was somewhat safe in the castle as a servant; it didn’t mean anything to some.
The burnt one seemed to laugh at Linkk, was it something that he said? Or was it his small stature. Yes, ocelots were small and for a kit he was small, but did that cause giants to roar? Linkk listened to the advice that the large cat began to say. The cats words were not literate; and it reminded Linkk of himself. Before Linkk lived in the castle and he fended for himself he was too illiterate. With no schooling he was bond to only a few words and phrases. Now, he had a larger vocabulary, it was still limited for a kit, but it was better then nothing. As the giant spoke he straighten himself out; attempting to be the brave Little Warrior he was inside.
“I’m not sure, ma’am. I lost count afta’ 4 months.”
It wasn’t hard for Linkk to listen to the large cat, as a child he was innoncent to almost everything and somehow he could understand her easily. Perhaps it was that he too once spoke with such a limited vocabulary that he could comprehend better; perhaps the two would get along.

[daenerys]

Daenerys nodded and sat back up. Young. So young. She didn't give a damn about the kit warrior, but she had to keep talking to be polite. Polite was a terrible things. It made her have to act like she wasn't a feral dog that had to be kept on a short leash in case she bit her master. No being was her master. She would kill any that tried to master her. The dragon would not be tamed. She replied then to his answer Daenerys no ma'am. Daenerys is a monster. Demon. Killer. She said what she was quietly, and a tinge of self loathing was there. She hated everything on the planet. Why not herself? A creature of nightmares didn't show fear or any weakness. Her face hid behind a mask of emotionlessness. Burned nightmares were good at hiding in masks.

(sorry for the short post. My brain is tired.)