Hello. This is just a little clip I wrote down that may grow into a bigger story. I would love to hear some critisism. Please let me know if you like it, hate it, or want to give some advice. Keep in mind it is unfinished and just a small part of a bigger story. The leopard thanks you.
The sights and sounds of the world are dull and weak as a dim light breaks the darkness of the shadows on the cieling. A slim beam of bright sunshine sifts through the light curtain over the door of the small hut and lands upon the face of the sleeping beast. The single small room of the thatch building was dim and hot from the summer day after the storm. A strong odor of male musk and sweat lingered in the stale air of the room. Through the delicate beam of light flow small clouds of thin dust still settling from the air. An eerie creak lifted from the steele joins of the small cot that held the large beast. A small puddle of sweat and blood lay under it.
The beast was a liger, large and muscular. His fur is a beautiful blend of black and white. It is pitch black with ghostly faint white stripes snaking and curving over his whole body. Dampened and soaked with sweat, his fur glistened in the small rays of light that made it into the hut's dark interior. He lay there motionless on the bed for quite some time, enough for the dust to sttle and the heat of the day to back off into the evening. Through the day, the beams of gold traced the ligers magnificent body lines and curves. They traveled over his dark complection from his feet, dangling over the cot's end, to the tips of his laid back ears. The light seemed to amplify the definition of the liger's fur and toned muscles. It play over his legs and glided over his groin and belly, moving slowly and smoothly. It finally came over his abs and bestowed the darkness with the image of the bandages that wrapped his body tight. The strips of cloth and cotton covered the gaping wound that he had recieved by the paws of the lion earlier. A light trickle of blood falls to the floor to join the small puddle under him. His tail lay limp over the side of the cot, beside his out stretched arm that hung over as if to look like it was reaching sleepily for something.
The silence of the room was broken by a deep sigh that escaped the heavy breathing muzzle of the liger. He brought his arm up to meet his tilted, aching head. He rubbed his forehead firmly as he opened his sleep covered, bloodshot eyes. They were a golden yellow color, dotted with red from irritation, and wandered over the dim lit walls and floor of the hut, trying feverishly to identify where he was. A look of great pain shot over the liger's black face as he tried to move. The pain shot through his chest from the large wound in his abdomen. The pain subsided and his face now bore a blank expression as he listened to the sounds of laughter and conversation from outside the hut. His attention, now coping with the pain and blocking out the noise, focused on trying to remember what had happened to him to bring him to this situation. He tried hard to look back into the events of the last night, but to no avail. His face loked puzzled as he noticed that even his name and memories seemed to never have been. He let out another sigh, this time long and drawn out. Deciding not to just lay there, the liger focused his attention on the noises outside. His tail jerked from the pain that waved through his whole body as he tried to lift his head to see the curtain covering the doorway of the hut. His head drops back to the firm pillow on the cot and he lets out another sigh of pain. He once more tries to figure out where this place might be. His mind is void and silent. His body sends waves of pain and tingling all over as he lets out a long deep murr.
The need for sleep seems to overpower the liger's want for realization and he soon starts to doze off. Just when the liger closes his golden eyes for the last time, he feels a small hand fall upon his shoulder. It presses gently on him and seems to be feeling the softness of his fur. A look of great worry comes over his face as he traces the path of the hand up to the face of a small child. He smiled and rubbed the liger's fur as if he was a pet. The liger looked at him and opened his mouth, trying to speak. In a raspy, low voice, he said to the child, "Who....are you?". He sighed once again and dropped his head to the pillow. He looked up at the boy and breathed hard. The boy looked down at the beast and just smiled. The boy patts the anthro's shoulder and turns towards the doorway. The child runs outside yelling "Beorollia naruka!" over and over.
Fear creaps into the liger's mind as the child disapears through the curtain. He tries to lift himself up on his side to get off the bed, but he is stopped by the great pain of his wound. He cries out loudly as the pain nearly parralizes him and lands harshly back on the bed, nearly snapping it in two. He is close to blindness from the pain as he drifts off once more into sleepiness. The room gets fuzzy and dark as he tries hard to keep his eyes open. He can see the light from outside flow into the room as the curtain is removed. A tall silhouette fills the doorway and walks up to him.
