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One could have guessed Rasalas had one day just poofed into the league's camp, just strutted out of abyss into the mansion and made his home there one day. Of course that wasn't what happened, but the second best guess was the he was possibly some administration error. His presence felt like some sort of filing malfunction, like he had walked into the league one day while everyone was busy, got tossed around from person of authroity to person of authority, and someone who was worked sick and tired had green-stamped him in a moment of exhuastion and bam, then there he was, a full fledge member of the league. In truth, given the current very panicked state of PI with a warden on a mission, an assasin successor missing, and a kit of the nemesis lost, it didn't necessarily sound impossible.
But however he had gotten in, Rasalas was there now, and was spending his days being one of the slightly more odd things in a group full of some of the oddest outsiders and murderers; although perhaps moreso because the group was mostly made up of those sorts. He walked about with a sort of soft, demure little smile, all sweet and slightly awkward like he didn't know exactly where he was supposed to be or what he was supposed to be doing, but he was just happy to be there. It almost seemed like he couldn't read the room, or if he did, he didn't seem to care; if only because even in his oddness he was amazingly unobtrusive -- the kind of person that just filtered into the background despite the fact that if you thought about him too much, he was one of the weirdest things there. And it was hard to be too concerned about him, because as out of place as he was he seemed to keep his head down, do his work, and not question orders.
Today was no different. He had lingered around the mansion a bit during the morning, but seemingly bored with that and deciding there was work to do, he had silently slipped out, giving a bashful little smile to everyone he passed until he had made it out a little ways into the woods.
Post by vexing_ode on Apr 13, 2022 13:14:02 GMT -5
{He can catch her following him if you would like lol}
Kurma padded through the woods her grey pelt dappled by the shadows under the trees. Primal Instinct was her home, born and raised, but due to the last move, there was no discriminations about outsides, she should know her adopted son was an outsider. Because she was the one to bring him back to the clan as a small kit, she was the one to raise him. He made her proud when he became a trainee and she hoped he would keep making her proud, but for now she must go back to her duties for the group. Keeping her mouth open for prey scent, she caught the scent of another cat. Peeking from behind a tree she noticed the black and white tom, she decided to keep back and watch, Kurma had seen the tom around in passing, he seemed nice enough. she weaved through the trees observing him as he went.
For a while Rasalas walked on, oblivious. At least, he seemed oblivious, considering for a long while he manuevered through the woods for with a slow, steady pace, a dreamy half-smile laid lazily on his face, as if completely lost in thought. But at some point, as if perhaps the wind blowed her scent the wrong direction, or perhaps he just caught a glimpse of her fur out of the corner of his eyes, his ears perked up, and his meandering pace slowed to a halt. He slightly turned his head over his shoulder, as if to reassure himself he had indeed seen another cat there, and when greeted with the sight of Kurma, his face -- which in the time it had taken him to notice the she cat had turned into a confused little frown -- once again transformed into a smile, all sweet and bashful in greeting.
"Morning!" He responded, his voice was as warm as if she'd been some old, long-time friend, practically purring at the sight of her, though in an equally stark contrast, there was some reserve there. Still, his tail flicked, beckoning her to come closer. "Did you want company, or did we just happen to stumble accross the same spot of grass?" His tone, though still slightly demure, was otherwise bright and welcoming in a nature that made it easy to tell it was more of a invite than a serious question, a tacit meaning in his words that she should come over and join him.
pausing for a moment, she padded out form hiding, "Hello." She nodded awkwardly at the tom. "I wouldn't mind some company." She mewed not making eye contact, she had been caught, but oh well. "I was just taking a walk, then... I saw you and was curious." with a flick of her ear she padded up to Rasalas. "I am Kurma." her words where curt and bland.
"Rasalas." He offered back, a small, gentle smile gracing their muzzle. "Also it's fine, I'm sure it must be a little odd having a new stranger walking through your woods. If I were you I'd probably have followed me too." Rasalas said, his sympathetic tone punctuated with a small chuckle, as if to say, "I get it. Nothing to be ashamed about."
And truly, he did understand. It must have been odd, seeing a complete stranger wandering around the territory, a new face in the crowd. He was more than aware that newbies either drew attention or a complete lack of it, both were understandable. He was either not worth someone's time, or, in a place like the league so focused on survival, only worth someones suspicion and mild, passing interest in the case he was a slip through the cracks, someone more foe than friend. Truthfully, in some ways heempathized with the vast array of mixed feelings -- and that was why he didn't mind it. Let other cats care or not care, show suspicion or show passing interest; he'd find his place here eventually, that was a certainty -- only a matter of time and a sprinkling of effort.
"Do you want to hunt?" she asked calmly her orange eyes flicking to the tom then away agian, like something in the distance had taken her attention, " or did you have something you wanted to do?" releasing that the tom could have been out here for a reason, "I can help or accompany you." Kurma was a stiff, rigid cat. She stuck to her rules and to the rules of the clan, not being one for much fun or excitement. Perhaps she just never learned how to show her emotions, she did live through some harsh times, the lose of their old home, the challenge of raising a kit that was not her own, and the many deaths. There was a lot of turmoil in her heart, and she coped with it buy being a hard empty shell, bland and stiff, diligently going about her duties.
"Ah, well I'll be honest and say I'm not the best hunter. In the traditional sense of the word, I mean." He said with a small laugh, his smile widening a bit as he spoke his little play on words. But he then turned a little more bashful, if only because what he was said was true; he was far from the best at hunting — perhaps, if he was being honest, he might have been one of the worst. "But I'm trying to learn. I suppose I'm doing two things in one right now really, trying to sharpen my skills at it and get a better feel of the territory." He hesitated a moment, as if in consideration, before he turned his full attention back to Kurma.
"Really, I'm perfectly happy to do either, so I guess I'd rather your recommendation. Do you feel like traveling today or would you rather see my attempt at hunting?" He offered, another small laugh at the mention of his hunting skills, as if he was bracing himself already to show his failings, as if he was resigned to it and now all he could do was set expectations as low as possible. It wasn't necessarily in a hapless way, and certainly it wasn't in a truly undignified, fully self-degrading manner; the kind perhaps a more unrefined, less collected cat with much less social grace might have. it was in that politely appeasing sort of way he always spoke things that might ruffle feathers or disappoint, like a gentle barrier of humor and warmth would smooth over even the worst offenses. And, even beyond that, there was almost something intimate in the way he spoke about it, like he was showing her some small, tawdry little personal secret that they could laugh at together, because he trusted her to know.
