Post by Mzuka on Sept 3, 2019 3:45:25 GMT
(January 26th, mid-day. Open to all!)
Afternoon was just breaking over the forest. The trees within Sherwood glittered with sunlight, warm patches poking through the canopy and dappling the grass below. Though it was still the winter season, the forest had not seen much snow; whatever share it did receive had certainly melted away by now, though frost still clung to a few of the plants around the water. The slight chill in the breeze served as a subtle reminder, ruffling foliage as it passed. And in the midst of it all, a white lion padded through the clearing, muttering to himself.
Well, this was certainly an unusual sight.
...For the outsiders, anyway. To the locals of Nottingham, the sight of a lion in the forest was not necessarily out of the ordinary. King Richard and Prince John both took their routes through Sherwood whenever they made their return to the castle, after all. But this feline's lineage bore no attachment to either ruler. Though one could hardly tell where Mzuka's bloodline started just by looking at him, it had no affiliation with the town just outside of the woods. And it wasn't something he chose to focus on; not today, anyway.
Instead, Mzuka was focused on two things today. The first was exploring this new surrounding. After having spent time up in the mountains, he quickly decided that the environment was not for him, and decided to seek shelter elsewhere for the moment. The forest he had seen from the mountaintop led him through to the town of Nottingham, and Nottingham led him straight into Sherwood. He was contented to stay here while he could; the prospect of being in such a highly populated area made him feel fearful, but the woods were quieter and more removed. Plus, the hunting was bound to be good. He'd get back to checking out the village in due time, but this would suffice for now.
The second thing he had been focusing on was a story.
Inspired by the sight of a grasshopper on a flower, Mzuka was in the midst of crafting another one of his tales. Inspiration had struck fast, and he wanted to talk through it before it left his head. To those not listening closely, it sounded like a lot of garbled whispering under his breath. His brow was knit, gaze trained on the forest floor, occasional shakes of his mane indicating whether or not he liked a word or a phrase. But a smile remained on his face all the while
"'Please Toad,' said Grasshopper, 'wash your legs before you sit down to eat.' Toad hopped over to the watering hole and did what his friend asked, but when he hopped back to the food, Grasshopper scowled at him." His ears dropped down parallel to one another and his eyes drifted upwards, repeating the sentence mentally before shifting back to his previous position.
"'Toad,' he said, sternly... Sternly?" Again, he stopped, this time breaking a whisper. Like a smooth stone, he rolled the descriptor around in his mind, before drawing his conclusion.
"Yes, sternly is the right... ahem... 'Toad,' he said sternly, 'wash your legs again. Your hopping has made them dirty.' Yes, that's coming along very nicely!"
He paused in his walking altogether, settling down in a sphinx-like position on the forest floor. He couldn't help but beam, allowing himself just a little moment of pride. This tale was shaping up to be an interesting one. Though the finer details of the ending were still a little vague, he was not worried. This story was already going in a wonderful direction, and he continued to think about where else he could take it.
Now, if only he had someone else to share it with.
Afternoon was just breaking over the forest. The trees within Sherwood glittered with sunlight, warm patches poking through the canopy and dappling the grass below. Though it was still the winter season, the forest had not seen much snow; whatever share it did receive had certainly melted away by now, though frost still clung to a few of the plants around the water. The slight chill in the breeze served as a subtle reminder, ruffling foliage as it passed. And in the midst of it all, a white lion padded through the clearing, muttering to himself.
Well, this was certainly an unusual sight.
...For the outsiders, anyway. To the locals of Nottingham, the sight of a lion in the forest was not necessarily out of the ordinary. King Richard and Prince John both took their routes through Sherwood whenever they made their return to the castle, after all. But this feline's lineage bore no attachment to either ruler. Though one could hardly tell where Mzuka's bloodline started just by looking at him, it had no affiliation with the town just outside of the woods. And it wasn't something he chose to focus on; not today, anyway.
Instead, Mzuka was focused on two things today. The first was exploring this new surrounding. After having spent time up in the mountains, he quickly decided that the environment was not for him, and decided to seek shelter elsewhere for the moment. The forest he had seen from the mountaintop led him through to the town of Nottingham, and Nottingham led him straight into Sherwood. He was contented to stay here while he could; the prospect of being in such a highly populated area made him feel fearful, but the woods were quieter and more removed. Plus, the hunting was bound to be good. He'd get back to checking out the village in due time, but this would suffice for now.
The second thing he had been focusing on was a story.
Inspired by the sight of a grasshopper on a flower, Mzuka was in the midst of crafting another one of his tales. Inspiration had struck fast, and he wanted to talk through it before it left his head. To those not listening closely, it sounded like a lot of garbled whispering under his breath. His brow was knit, gaze trained on the forest floor, occasional shakes of his mane indicating whether or not he liked a word or a phrase. But a smile remained on his face all the while
"'Please Toad,' said Grasshopper, 'wash your legs before you sit down to eat.' Toad hopped over to the watering hole and did what his friend asked, but when he hopped back to the food, Grasshopper scowled at him." His ears dropped down parallel to one another and his eyes drifted upwards, repeating the sentence mentally before shifting back to his previous position.
"'Toad,' he said, sternly... Sternly?" Again, he stopped, this time breaking a whisper. Like a smooth stone, he rolled the descriptor around in his mind, before drawing his conclusion.
"Yes, sternly is the right... ahem... 'Toad,' he said sternly, 'wash your legs again. Your hopping has made them dirty.' Yes, that's coming along very nicely!"
He paused in his walking altogether, settling down in a sphinx-like position on the forest floor. He couldn't help but beam, allowing himself just a little moment of pride. This tale was shaping up to be an interesting one. Though the finer details of the ending were still a little vague, he was not worried. This story was already going in a wonderful direction, and he continued to think about where else he could take it.
Now, if only he had someone else to share it with.
