nightfIower

bred n brekfest chapter 1 ((warning, swearing: good fucking luck if you can understand this)) ((god bless)) ((i had to leave thesaurus.com open fuuckin hell )) ((fuuuuuck me)) ((i hate my life bye)) Once upon a time, there was a young felidae cursed with the calling of Bread. The brute's appearance was of cool daylight with darker moon crosses. His hourglass had broken at one. Now, Bread was a culinarian's cat, and his owner was the owner of a lodging house, which is partly where he got his name. One day, the grande feline liberated himself from the dough slinger, running into the wild. His auditories were pinned to his cranium, lifting his

prologue Settling down into a misshapen nest, the young adolescent's yellow eyes glared at the storm. "Here I am trying to hunt for my Tribe," he hissed to the heavily dropping rain. "And a giant storm decides to come. It was sunny today!" The ginger tabby was perched rather uncomfortably in a split rock. This was the very first time he'd ever been caught out in a thunderstorm, and he was actually very scared. This young cat's name was Claw of Spying Eagle, or Claw, a newly named prey-hunter of the Tribe of Howling Wind. A scrawny rabbit was locked in his claws, and he stuck his head out as the rain finally stopped, the last remaining drops

More. It's such a powerful word, and it's what we're always wanting. It can be amazing, good, great, but it can be bad, terrible, devastating. It's such a two-faced word. So short, but it has so much control. More money, more fame, more love. More death, more cancer, more hate. More creativity, more beauty. More discrimination, more pain. It's what humans are always wanting. After all, paper beats rock.