ＡＤＶＥＮＴＵＲＥ ＤＲＩＶＥＳ ＴＨＥ ＵＲＧＥ ＴＯ
ＣＲＯＳＳ ＴＨＥ ＳＴＥＰＰＩＮＧ ＳＴＯＮＥＳ．
ｃｕｒｉｏｕｓ • ｍｅｄｄｌｅｓｏｍｅ • ｐｒｉｄｅｆｕｌ
he had fur that blending with the surrounding rock: pale teal with black and grey
speckles. it was simply gorgeous. his eyes were sworn to secrecy, or so they fortold.
they blended with the mud, two pools of cedar brown. and there was pride in his
smile. it crooked over like a hook, the type that the two-legs used to capture their
prey in the swallowing gorge, but smoothed out with the rest of his facial features.
his nose twitched, that petite leather triangle that just searched for adventure.
and his paws directed him to it, they ever so gingerly pressing themselves apon the
slippery stones. they knew just where they were going, and that was to meddle in
some activity only the brave hearted would dare to go out and try. that was their
fault, yes, but they were oh so prideful about it. to be curious and filled with that
drive to seek out more? it suited them fancy. now if the tom slipped, he would be
just as prideful. but he would never slip, even with the rush of water swallowing
the stepping stones whole. no, he would never slip. he was born into this. in the rush.
