- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have Thursdays off between two jobs. I am usually available on Wednesdays and Sundays, too. I will usually respond in the evenings, if I can, on the days I work.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Modern, Action, Adventure, some High-Fantasy, Lord of the Rings, Pacific Rim, King Arthur, anything Game of Thrones-esque
And Warren thought things couldn't get any worse.
He'd smelled the feline shifter the moment he'd come into the apartment, and while his first thoughts had been simply that WPA had been in Cleo's house to make sure no threats - like bombs and far more....mythical means of killing someone - were planted, and that he was just smelling someone who'd been here, that was quickly proven wrong by the fact that the male was still here. Oh, WPA HAD been here, Warren could tell by the tiniest inconsistencies in the room that Cleo wouldn't catch on to, but this shifter wasn't WPA.
No, what he was, apparently, was a friend of Cleo's and a rude one at that. Still, arrogance always was befitting a cat.
The werewolf growled, low and deep, and decidedly unfriendly at the feline shifter, not trying to hide it - what was to hide anymore? - and his words were nearly snarled back as he moved past Cleo and then past the male entirely, not caring for a name or a greeting. "It's wolf, not dog, Or would you like me to call you kitten? You are a Jaguar Shifter, right?" That last statement he threw over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.
Let Cleo realize he wasn't the only friend who'd been keeping secrets. At least he wouldn't be alone in the rejection. The sooner the cat was gone the better. It wasn't like felines were the greatest smelling creatures on the planet themselves!
He'd smelled the feline shifter the moment he'd come into the apartment, and while his first thoughts had been simply that WPA had been in Cleo's house to make sure no threats - like bombs and far more....mythical means of killing someone - were planted, and that he was just smelling someone who'd been here, that was quickly proven wrong by the fact that the male was still here. Oh, WPA HAD been here, Warren could tell by the tiniest inconsistencies in the room that Cleo wouldn't catch on to, but this shifter wasn't WPA.
No, what he was, apparently, was a friend of Cleo's and a rude one at that. Still, arrogance always was befitting a cat.
The werewolf growled, low and deep, and decidedly unfriendly at the feline shifter, not trying to hide it - what was to hide anymore? - and his words were nearly snarled back as he moved past Cleo and then past the male entirely, not caring for a name or a greeting. "It's wolf, not dog, Or would you like me to call you kitten? You are a Jaguar Shifter, right?" That last statement he threw over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.
Let Cleo realize he wasn't the only friend who'd been keeping secrets. At least he wouldn't be alone in the rejection. The sooner the cat was gone the better. It wasn't like felines were the greatest smelling creatures on the planet themselves!
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