Ghost Town.
He had heard the name, twice from a lovely pair of lips, then dropped in other conversation as he had been listening in.
There were ghost towns where he was from, of course. If one knew where to spot them, where to look, they could find an old, abandoned mining town much like the one he is stalking into now.
he had followed her as best he could, as quietly as only a feline form can, flitting in and out of shadows, careful to stay upwind so she wouldn't scent him following. He's not sure how she would react if she knew she had an escort home, and he's quite as sure her senses are as sharp as his, the two of them being so similar in other ways.
After all, she had left the other two - the guardian and the one he assumes is likely her mate - at the Inn, and had asked them not to follow.
His golden eyes had watched her every move as she walked along, the way she walks, the way she looks around at the night as she makes her way home.
But here, at the borders of this hallowed Ghost Town, he lost the trail. She had somehow eluded him, or else had been consumed by the town itself. He can't even find the trail of her delicate scent.
He steps across the borders of the town, a red-brown mountain lion, long, muscular and sleek, his long tail moving slowly back and forth as he finally steps into the open. Anyone who didn't know him personally wouldn't be able to identify him as being anything more than what he appears, if perhaps a bit larger than the standard.
The big cat stalks along the shadows, prowling the abandoned streets of this ancient place, golden eyes searching, ears perked up and alert, sniffing for a scent quietly.
He'd followed her this far, only to lose her? How had she done that?
He had heard the name, twice from a lovely pair of lips, then dropped in other conversation as he had been listening in.
There were ghost towns where he was from, of course. If one knew where to spot them, where to look, they could find an old, abandoned mining town much like the one he is stalking into now.
he had followed her as best he could, as quietly as only a feline form can, flitting in and out of shadows, careful to stay upwind so she wouldn't scent him following. He's not sure how she would react if she knew she had an escort home, and he's quite as sure her senses are as sharp as his, the two of them being so similar in other ways.
After all, she had left the other two - the guardian and the one he assumes is likely her mate - at the Inn, and had asked them not to follow.
His golden eyes had watched her every move as she walked along, the way she walks, the way she looks around at the night as she makes her way home.
But here, at the borders of this hallowed Ghost Town, he lost the trail. She had somehow eluded him, or else had been consumed by the town itself. He can't even find the trail of her delicate scent.
He steps across the borders of the town, a red-brown mountain lion, long, muscular and sleek, his long tail moving slowly back and forth as he finally steps into the open. Anyone who didn't know him personally wouldn't be able to identify him as being anything more than what he appears, if perhaps a bit larger than the standard.
The big cat stalks along the shadows, prowling the abandoned streets of this ancient place, golden eyes searching, ears perked up and alert, sniffing for a scent quietly.
He'd followed her this far, only to lose her? How had she done that?