HOME | DD

Description
The streets were busy, filled with animals of all sorts bustling about and calling out to one another, for one another. Everyone had someone- or perhaps they were looking for someone, caught up in the hustle and bustle of the waterside city. A few beggars chimed out at street corners, and in the thin alleyways one could find a whorehouse or smuggler. But it was the big streets, filled with people and noise, that Sterling roamed about on. From a young age, he'd been out there on his own- stealing from the rich, and stealing from the fat cats.
The Caracal stepped out from a brothel, his eyes gleaming in the light of the dawn, his scars reminding passerby that he had fought- and he had won- or at least it seemed that way from the jaunt of his walk, and the way he spoke with confidence. The morning came, and with it, the streets filled, the docks lined with boats. Spotting a group of young females, Sterling sauntered over to them, his voice smooth as always, "Hello ladies, I see that you seem to be lost over here- is there any way I can assist?" a young ocelot began to nod, but was soon cut off by a more burly, almost masculine leopard. "No, thank you, we can find our way around this pit of a city just fine."
Undeterred by the rebuttal, Sterling bowed his head, sidling up to the ocelot and giving her a wink, before trodding off towards the docks themselves. Though it was a deviation from his standard routine, Sterling had managed to slip away with two rather hefty bags of coins from the group of ladies. That put him at ease, enough so that he walked down to the beach, suddenly knocked into a hazy memory.

A pair of caracals sat on the beach, their playful demeanor indicating a love- a warm spreading feeling of love. Of Family. Two other, younger carcacal danced around sterling, their voices high and playful, begging him to play- tumbling about in a fit of friendly fighting. "Come now, my darlings, lets settle down!" a feminine voiced called out- it was one of the adults near the water. But her face- it was too hazy for him to recall.

Shaking his head, the scarred caracal settled into the sand. A sense of longing filled him, a void which had grown every day since he lost his family. They'd just disappeared one night- gone in the blink of an eye, without a goodbye. He'd been abandoned on the streets of a town, some distance from where he now lounged. Yet something called him here, to this city- this beach. He'd gone through a mountain pass, filled with snow and hostile snow leopards- he'd traveled through the red sand- a sea of swaying sand, rippling around him, devoid of life. And after all that, he'd wound up here- for many years he'd lived off his skills, pickpocketing here, doing an odd job there. He'd bedded many females, drank with many fine men, and stolen from royalty- yet he felt something was missing.
Shaking himself from that line of thought, he saw a small ship beached a few meters from him. A wobbling, black lion walked from the boat- his gait unsteady and his posture filled with sorrow. Sterling knew the old man- well, perhaps he wasn't much older than Sterling- rather well. He used to show kindness to the poor caracal and they'd become quick friends- and later they drank together, spilling their sorrows with their alcohol. But now there was too much sorrow in the lion- Sterling had to do something before he drowned or poisoned himself- he had to take care of his friend. After all, Santos was all he truly had in this world.

Here, have your story. weep about it.
<3

Description
The streets were busy, filled with animals of all sorts bustling about and calling out to one another, for one another. Everyone had someone- or perhaps they were looking for someone, caught up in the hustle and bustle of the waterside city. A few beggars chimed out at street corners, and in the thin alleyways one could find a whorehouse or smuggler. But it was the big streets, filled with people and noise, that Sterling roamed about on. From a young age, he'd been out there on his own- stealing from the rich, and stealing from the fat cats.
The Caracal stepped out from a brothel, his eyes gleaming in the light of the dawn, his scars reminding passerby that he had fought- and he had won- or at least it seemed that way from the jaunt of his walk, and the way he spoke with confidence. The morning came, and with it, the streets filled, the docks lined with boats. Spotting a group of young females, Sterling sauntered over to them, his voice smooth as always, "Hello ladies, I see that you seem to be lost over here- is there any way I can assist?" a young ocelot began to nod, but was soon cut off by a more burly, almost masculine leopard. "No, thank you, we can find our way around this pit of a city just fine."
Undeterred by the rebuttal, Sterling bowed his head, sidling up to the ocelot and giving her a wink, before trodding off towards the docks themselves. Though it was a deviation from his standard routine, Sterling had managed to slip away with two rather hefty bags of coins from the group of ladies. That put him at ease, enough so that he walked down to the beach, suddenly knocked into a hazy memory.

A pair of caracals sat on the beach, their playful demeanor indicating a love- a warm spreading feeling of love. Of Family. Two other, younger carcacal danced around sterling, their voices high and playful, begging him to play- tumbling about in a fit of friendly fighting. "Come now, my darlings, lets settle down!" a feminine voiced called out- it was one of the adults near the water. But her face- it was too hazy for him to recall.

Shaking his head, the scarred caracal settled into the sand. A sense of longing filled him, a void which had grown every day since he lost his family. They'd just disappeared one night- gone in the blink of an eye, without a goodbye. He'd been abandoned on the streets of a town, some distance from where he now lounged. Yet something called him here, to this city- this beach. He'd gone through a mountain pass, filled with snow and hostile snow leopards- he'd traveled through the red sand- a sea of swaying sand, rippling around him, devoid of life. And after all that, he'd wound up here- for many years he'd lived off his skills, pickpocketing here, doing an odd job there. He'd bedded many females, drank with many fine men, and stolen from royalty- yet he felt something was missing.
Shaking himself from that line of thought, he saw a small ship beached a few meters from him. A wobbling, black lion walked from the boat- his gait unsteady and his posture filled with sorrow. Sterling knew the old man- well, perhaps he wasn't much older than Sterling- rather well. He used to show kindness to the poor caracal and they'd become quick friends- and later they drank together, spilling their sorrows with their alcohol. But now there was too much sorrow in the lion- Sterling had to do something before he drowned or poisoned himself- he had to take care of his friend. After all, Santos was all he truly had in this world.

Here, have your story. weep about it.
<3