Information

Cheshire Cat_261
Legacy Name: Cheshire Cat_261

The Silver Feli
Owner: Jabberwocky_343

Age: 17 years, 4 months, 1 week

Born: December 22nd, 2006

Adopted: 7 years, 10 months ago

Adopted: July 1st, 2016

Statistics

• Level: 7
   
• Strength: 24
   
• Defense: 13
   
• Speed: 18
   
• Health: 21
   
• HP: 21/21
   
• Intelligence: 3
   
• Books Read: 3
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

The Cheshire cat purrs quietly, licking his paws. His fresh kill rests next to him on the tree branch, meat meticulously removed, picked clean to the bone. He carefully readjusts the bright pink boa, combing it over for any remaining morsels.

"Ack! Blasted creature!" He gently licks the droplets of blood off of the pink feathers.

"Where is that silly child, anyway? She should have been by quite some time ago."

As if waiting for her cue, Alice suddenly appears from behind a tree, muttering to herself.

"Ah," he purrs, his body slowly vanishing from sight. All that is left is a glowing, disembodied smile, the evening twilight giving the glow an eerie aura.

The cat steps quietly from tree branch to tree branch, making sure not to alert Alice to his presence. I'll have her this time.

His razor-sharp claws silently grasping at the bark, puncturing its thick flesh, he braces himself for a lunge at his prey.

The dismount, however, could have used some work.

The branch was not strong enough to withstand his leap, and the cat came tumbling down into the shrubbery, face slammed into the forest floor. Cursing under his breath, he rights himself, picking dead leaves and dirt from his fur and boa.

"Come out, then! I'll not fuss about with a lurker in the woods."

The cat growls quietly and steps forward, adjusting his collar and boa, wishing he could fix his pride as easily as his wardrobe.

--------

The Cheshire cat returns from escorting Alice to the rabbit's home, yawning freely.

He climbs up his usual tree and makes his way to his perch. The missing bark and contour of the branch knows his body well. It supports him perfectly, and he can feel his body settling in to the perfect spot.

Already feeling himself doze off, the cat removes his boa and forms a pillow, yawning again.

"I think I've earned myself a little cat nap," he muses.

The cat closes his eyes and slowly fades from visibility.

Just before he drifts off into unconsciousness, however, a rustle in the bush below startles him awake.

The movement is small, but the cat takes any prowler seriously. Maintaining his invisibility, he rights himself and watches the bush closely.

The dormouse peeks his head out from the underbrush and peers around.

"I swear. These woods change!"

The cat snickers and allows his grin to become visible.

"Cheshire! What are you doing?" The small mouse unsheathes his weapon, pointing it at the cat.

"Come now, mousey. There's no need for violence," he says, his skeleton visible.

He stretches, the dark skin and fur, patchy and matted, slowly growing into sight. The last to be seen is his large, spiked collar; it hangs loosely on his neck, resting precariously on his frail looking shoulders.

He takes a couple steps forward and slides his nose under his boa, the bright pink feathers a grand contrast to his dark grey pallor.

The cat slinks down the tree trunk, landing very close to the nervous mouse, weapon still drawn.

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