A wildcat glanced casually over at the newcomer from her place at the bar. She was wearing a dark blue short-sleeved shirt and gray pants, and her fur was like a snowshoe hare turning brown after winter: a patchy mixture of brown, white, and black. Getting her fill of the hare, the wildcat turned back to her goblet of wine, saying nothing. -- The Salamandastron Dance

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Subject: A wildcat glanced casually over at the newcomer from her place at the bar. She was wearing a dark blue short-sleeved shirt and gray pants, and her fur was like a snowshoe hare turning brown after winter: a patchy mixture of brown, white, and black. Getting her fill of the hare, the wildcat turned back to her goblet of wine, saying nothing.

Author:
Ravia Sharkvar
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Date Posted: 07:33:56 12/21/04 Tue
In reply to: Fleetsrunner Hawkeyes 's message, "Peace, Quiet, Solitude." on 04:44:27 12/20/04 Mon

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**The hare does not pay much attention to anything. She does, finally, take her arm away from her eyes and pushes up the sleeves of her tunic. For the sake of something to do, she unwraps the bloodied bandage wrapped around her arm and taking out fresh bandages, rebandages it. This is done in a restless fashion. She murmurs to herself as she does it as well.** (NT) Fleetsrunner Hawkeyes 01:46:47 12/23/04 Thu

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