just a rat in a cage.
#4
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SORRY!!! I’ve been working on this reply the whole weekend, just couldn’t get it right >.< -528-



Slowly, sliky black paws prowled ahead towards the stairs, trying not to abrupt the objects around the dark shadow. Red eyes gleamed in the dark, merely registrating all around them, their focus was only on the staircase in front of them. His head hang low, his nose filtering the scents that hang to tenderly and faint in the air. The hunter, the warrior, all of his senses were at their peak. He nearly didn’t blink, all of his energy was focused on tracking. He could feel a slight throbbing in the back of his head, blood pulsating, nourishing his brain.


With light steps he had started his ascension of the stairs, he noticed that there was a bit more light up there, but he kept his steady going and didn’t submerge to the urge to rush up to escape the darkness. Slowly the brightness of the room above started to reach his face, he squinted his eyes, trying to reduce the amount of light that was seeping through them. He stood still for a couple of minutes at the top of the stairs, trying to orientate, trying to listen for clues, trying to catch the trace of whomever was up there, or what.


Just incase he forgot where he had come from, he squirted in the corner of the stairs. He would continue doing this on every corner he turned, he didn’t want to get lost, or end up walking in circles. Sniffing the ground around him, the midninght-blue male continued his journey further on the floor. For the moment he wasn’t following any particular trace, just trying to understand and trying to memorize his whereabouts. He had only been walking through the main corridor on the previous levels of the building, and had therefore not been exposed to the laborynth of rooms and corridors that existed, but that was about change.


Some rooms were big, some were smaller, and some rooms weren’t rooms at all, just small cubicles that were a part of a larger square. Desaevio sniffed around confused, not necessarily because he was lost, but because of the environment; it made him feel insecure. He sniffed the ground again, walked a little around himself trying to catch the trace he had followed, he hadn’t forgotten about it, the impressions of his surroundings had just confused him so much in the beginning. But he was back on track now.


He smirked a little as he noticed that catching a pure strain of the scent was going to be hard, not just because the smell of the other seemed to be everywhere, but also because there was this rotten cold smell of decaving things around him. He would have to rely on his other three senses; hearing, sight and pure instinct.


Still he stood, only listening, trying to catch the beating of a heart or maybe a bad calculated breath, or just something moving out of an uncomfortable position. But as far as he could hear, there was nothing, only the usual silent noices; the wind creaking in the windows, silently knocking, wanting to get in.

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