Her tail fluffed as the torbie made her way along the tree line, a small myriad of flowers clutched in her maw as she trotted over the frosty ground. There weren't many, of course, many having been plucked from the gardens of kittypets and sourced from other places as well since the icy claws of the cold had killed many of the prettier wild flowers that grew, but Hawthorne knew the importance of making a good impression. Especially if you wanted to make new friends.
But oh how she wished they had a bit more life in them. She paused at the scent-line, ears tilting back as she crossed her coppery eyes to look at the wilting petals and stems of the flowers between her teeth. They looked so... sad, but she hoped these cats wouldn't mind that nor think less of her for it. She inhaled, her senses overwhelmed by the florals as her nostrils flared and chest expanded, trying to stave off that slight feeling of looming chagrin as she sat down on her mottled haunches, white tails covered by her neatly wrapped fiery tail. Hey! I've heard of you and your fellow groups! You guys aren't much farther from where I live now, and I don't... She rehearsed in her head what to say, running through all different variations of her greeting, trying to find which one will make her sound friendly but not weak or afraid. The kittypets she'd sometimes chat with had... colorful opinions of the wild cats, that's for sure, but she couldn't let them cloud her judgement before she even laid her own eyes upon the group! It was an important aspect of herself to never judge another without at least putting names to faces. Plus, she's been in these forests her entire life. If they were going to be in the same space—in the case they don't let her join—she can at most let them know where she is and that she isn't aiming to harm anyone!
She gave a soft nod to herself, taking another deep breath before exhaling as she waiting for one of the 'clan' cats to appear and for her to give her pitch.
But oh how she wished they had a bit more life in them. She paused at the scent-line, ears tilting back as she crossed her coppery eyes to look at the wilting petals and stems of the flowers between her teeth. They looked so... sad, but she hoped these cats wouldn't mind that nor think less of her for it. She inhaled, her senses overwhelmed by the florals as her nostrils flared and chest expanded, trying to stave off that slight feeling of looming chagrin as she sat down on her mottled haunches, white tails covered by her neatly wrapped fiery tail. Hey! I've heard of you and your fellow groups! You guys aren't much farther from where I live now, and I don't... She rehearsed in her head what to say, running through all different variations of her greeting, trying to find which one will make her sound friendly but not weak or afraid. The kittypets she'd sometimes chat with had... colorful opinions of the wild cats, that's for sure, but she couldn't let them cloud her judgement before she even laid her own eyes upon the group! It was an important aspect of herself to never judge another without at least putting names to faces. Plus, she's been in these forests her entire life. If they were going to be in the same space—in the case they don't let her join—she can at most let them know where she is and that she isn't aiming to harm anyone!
She gave a soft nod to herself, taking another deep breath before exhaling as she waiting for one of the 'clan' cats to appear and for her to give her pitch.