<div class="gracetable"><p>

Grace lifted one enormous foot, and gently--very gently--set it down atop the old metal thing.

She didn't know what the thing was.

It looked rounded, finned, like a big white metal fish, but with big brown spots that smelled to her delicate sniffs almost like blood. (It was, in fact, some form of old metal space- or land-craft, but she didn't know that.) Grass and vines had long ago overgrown it, grown <i>through</i> it, and the tyrannosaur lowered a massive head to nudge it.

When she had come into being, she had found that she knew the names of many things. But there were still some things she had no name for--no knowledge of--and she often wondered why. In her lone wanderings, she had found several of these things, and had carefully tucked away each one in her memory.

After she had circled and prodded the thing for a time, she turned away again: paced out into the knee-deep meadows to look out at the sunset. It was dropping low against the horizon, sending splashes of pink and gold across the ocean of grass.

<thk>Beautiful,</thk> she thought, happily. She loved the white wood where she had awoken, but everywhere she'd seen thus far had held a form of beauty. Well--the desert not <i>as</i> much, but still.

To anyone else she might have been a strange sight: a marble almost-statue standing high over the grass, peering out in motionless contemplation. But she wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, so she just stood, and watched the sun begin to set.

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Elerrian

He should probably have been hunting.

It was just after sunset--a good time for dinner, and Ginger was getting a little hungry. But the hunting recently had been good, and maybe that'd lured him into a kind of complacency tonight. He could look for food later, and surely he'd be successful tomorrow if he wasn't tonight.

So here he was, staring up at a sign hanging in front of a set of glass doors. There was a picture on it--though there were no colors left except for various faded shades of sepia brown. It was almost triangular, with a round, circular side, and littler thin circles coming off of it.

"... ham?" Ginger said, mostly to himself. Yes, that was ham--but why ham? He knew it was some sort of food: a meat, probably tasted good. But how did he know that? He'd never eaten a ham.

I wish I had a ham to eat, Ginger thought, then giggled quietly at the absurdity of it all.

Moonscar Emperor

<b>OOC Name:</b> Cicada
<b>Character Name:</b> Ginger
<b>Species:</b> Cat
<b>Age:</b> young adult
<b>Alignment:</b> Neutral

<center><div style="width:575px; text-align: justify; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px; padding-bottom: 15px; border: solid 1pt #222222; color: #000000; font-size: 12px; background-color: #E2E2E2; background-image: url('http://www.the-hereafter.com/images/Tablebackground.png'); border-radius: 20px">Some of the dogs had, in the end, broken their bonds of obedience and tried--here and there, and without success--to prey on the cats as they always had.

That, of course, was before they knew the cats could <i>all</i> speak. And before they'd seen the <i>tiger.</i>

"The giant tabby with knife-teeth," some of them called him, tails between their legs as they'd admitted where they'd been, what they'd seen. "God-Sent," the cats had whispered, trailing the tiger in the shadows of the alleyways.

Perhaps Rakesh still lingered in the city, somewhere--an indifferent god for the colony of cats. All that could be said for sure was that the dogs had avoided the Lionshadow ever since, and the Tiger God's name was still whispered in soft-hissed reverence.

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<i>This provides an off-screen conclusion for Like Cats and Dogs! Player characters can have reacted in any way; this post only defines the action of the non-player characters to provide a framework for closure.</i>

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<div class="ganybg"><div class="ganymoons"><p>Ganymedes had filled out considerable in the time they'd spent with Rochester. Instead of being skin and bones there was now lean muscle and a thick coat of fur. Their attitude hadn't changed very much, but they were fond of the older wolf and seemed to think of him as 'alpha'.

The wolf stepped into the cabin and sniffed around, taking on a human form (that was nude due to a recent shift. Clothes didn't stand up to the shift very well.). The teen pulled a rabbit from between their teeth and licked blood off their lips, creeping further into the space like they'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

<b>"Rrroach?"</b>, they rumbled, standing up straighter and straighter with every step, the wolf receding and allowing their humanity to come forth.

<b>"I got food,"</b> they said softly, holding the rabbit in their hands, <b>"I um... I kinda tore apart my clothes again. Sorry."</b>

It was just a loincloth, but still. They'd gotten excited!! The rabbit was <i>right</i> there! Of course they were going to chase it, the damn thing was practically taunting them. But maybe the present of the small rodent would help Rochester forgive them. </p></div></div>
Rochester

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We are a real life roleplay site focused on enriching character driven stories through events, newspaper headlines, radio broadcasts, and much more. Set in modern day Connecticut, Lochland Grove follows life in a small town as citizens struggle with change.[/center]