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I went up north to a cottage for Canada Day. I saw three moose, one shooting star and several screaming heads.
Category Photography / Portraits
Species Mouse
Gender Male
Size 879 x 733px
File Size 660.6 kB
"Oh, I'm sure they like being allergic to us," purred Ka'tch'Ian in her soft, gentle thunder intoned, stretched out languidly on the oversized bed with her much smaller Human fiancee, "even if you're all just being mean and pretending you don't like cats, suspected." The last words were uttered with a faux-pout, something Reg would know on his Erebor's face, his Lonely Mountain Cat, anytime or anywhere.
He lifted his hand, finger-bopped her nosepad of twelve inches' breadth, something that by any other brachiate's act would leave his wife-to-be in a panick, frenetic tigress in mortal terror from the act, but he alone, with her, she never would. She only growled like a monstrous, vanilla-cream cat-woman twice the mass of a Terran polar bear, nothing more than a lioness suitably aroused to lustful cleverness by her tiny, furless lion. My Mane, undoubted, my Reg, she said to herself within, bowing her head close, a kitten who found a mate and an older, wiser male sibling she never had of her own blood, in her proscribed human and promised mate that she never expected. A windfall, an Aubaine.
A Pathfinder. My good and brave voyager, who will bring his friends home, just as he did me. And himself did he, in first foundation. She rested her massive chin gently on his chest, most of her head's length from the back of her ears to her snout covering the distance. But Reginald Barclay would ever be her beloved giant, for he showed her the way, too. That is his [i]Destiny Manifest, his Chosen Purpose. He only needed time to find it there within him; his Courageous Enterprise, as Ka'tch'Ian M'Ress did in her own path sought and found, now a second time furnished.[/i]
-from The Third Policeman, a Deep Space Nine: Season Eight Why We Boldly Goethe novella, the third in an ongoing series, written by Garth Gilmore (as Jospeh Kirlian/Twopaw Tarnished-Silver).
He lifted his hand, finger-bopped her nosepad of twelve inches' breadth, something that by any other brachiate's act would leave his wife-to-be in a panick, frenetic tigress in mortal terror from the act, but he alone, with her, she never would. She only growled like a monstrous, vanilla-cream cat-woman twice the mass of a Terran polar bear, nothing more than a lioness suitably aroused to lustful cleverness by her tiny, furless lion. My Mane, undoubted, my Reg, she said to herself within, bowing her head close, a kitten who found a mate and an older, wiser male sibling she never had of her own blood, in her proscribed human and promised mate that she never expected. A windfall, an Aubaine.
A Pathfinder. My good and brave voyager, who will bring his friends home, just as he did me. And himself did he, in first foundation. She rested her massive chin gently on his chest, most of her head's length from the back of her ears to her snout covering the distance. But Reginald Barclay would ever be her beloved giant, for he showed her the way, too. That is his [i]Destiny Manifest, his Chosen Purpose. He only needed time to find it there within him; his Courageous Enterprise, as Ka'tch'Ian M'Ress did in her own path sought and found, now a second time furnished.[/i]
-from The Third Policeman, a Deep Space Nine: Season Eight Why We Boldly Goethe novella, the third in an ongoing series, written by Garth Gilmore (as Jospeh Kirlian/Twopaw Tarnished-Silver).
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