Post by PUMPKINPAW on Jun 30, 2015 15:39:51 GMT -5
[nospaces]
[newclass=".ahituna"]height: 350px;width: 450px; overflow: hidden;border: 10px solid #ffffff;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tunatuna"]padding: 5px; height: 310px;width: 410px; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0;-webkit-transition: all .4s linear;-moz-transition: all .4s linear;-ms-transition: all .4s linear;-o-transition: all .4s linear;transition: all .4s linear;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tunatuna:hover"]padding: 5px; height: 315px;width: 410px; opacity: 1;-webkit-transition: all .4s linear;-moz-transition: all .4s linear;-ms-transition: all .4s linear;-o-transition: all .4s linear;transition: all .4s linear;[/newclass]
[attr="class","ahituna"][break]
[attr="class","tunatuna"]
sick as a dog
355 words OPEN miserable
[break]
Pumpkinpaw was sick. That was the long and short of it. She was sick from something she ate, which for Pumpkinpaw, was a lot of things. Not just an unsettled abdomen, though. No, it was much worse than that. Everywhere she looked, the mere mention of edibles made her belly turn and churn like a rolling river. Anything that she took down came right back up for a surprise—or, in the case of an apprentice who’d been sick for a few days, not so much of a surprise—reappearance.
[break][break]
The patchwork she-cat had reduced herself to moaning and groaning in the Medicine Cat Den, where she pretended to be extra pitiful in the hope that someone would come visit her in such a sorry state. Pumpkinpaw was not the only sick cat in the camp, but she milked it as if she were the worst. The overdramatic feline was normally optimistic and jovial, but when food—her one true love—was denied her by her own body, things quickly took a turn for their most sour.
[break][break]
The she-cat hiccupped and proceeded to return the contents of her belly out into a corner of the den, where she’d decided it was best to upheave her own internal organs. <i>This is it,</i> she thought with great enthusiasm. <i>This is the end of me. Tell my Clan I love them.</i> Pumpkinpaw flopped herself down on the dusty floor and let her drool leak from the corners of her mouth, taking with it the last of the taste of bile. Why anyone would visit such a miserable cat, Pumpkinpaw had no idea.
[break][break]
Rolling over to expose her soft underbelly, she called out as if summoning her very last will, “Take me, foul spirits! Escort me to my place in StarClan, for I am no more!” She that, Pumpkinpaw lay, belly upturned, as if she expected lightning to strike her at once. Instead, another hiccup came, and she groaned as her stomach seemed to leap up with it.
What a truly awful punishment for eating more than her fair share of freshkill, was all Pumpkinpaw could manage to think.
[break][break]
sick as a dog
355 words OPEN miserable
Pumpkinpaw was sick. That was the long and short of it. She was sick from something she ate, which for Pumpkinpaw, was a lot of things. Not just an unsettled abdomen, though. No, it was much worse than that. Everywhere she looked, the mere mention of edibles made her belly turn and churn like a rolling river. Anything that she took down came right back up for a surprise—or, in the case of an apprentice who’d been sick for a few days, not so much of a surprise—reappearance.
[break][break]
The patchwork she-cat had reduced herself to moaning and groaning in the Medicine Cat Den, where she pretended to be extra pitiful in the hope that someone would come visit her in such a sorry state. Pumpkinpaw was not the only sick cat in the camp, but she milked it as if she were the worst. The overdramatic feline was normally optimistic and jovial, but when food—her one true love—was denied her by her own body, things quickly took a turn for their most sour.
[break][break]
The she-cat hiccupped and proceeded to return the contents of her belly out into a corner of the den, where she’d decided it was best to upheave her own internal organs. <i>This is it,</i> she thought with great enthusiasm. <i>This is the end of me. Tell my Clan I love them.</i> Pumpkinpaw flopped herself down on the dusty floor and let her drool leak from the corners of her mouth, taking with it the last of the taste of bile. Why anyone would visit such a miserable cat, Pumpkinpaw had no idea.
[break][break]
Rolling over to expose her soft underbelly, she called out as if summoning her very last will, “Take me, foul spirits! Escort me to my place in StarClan, for I am no more!” She that, Pumpkinpaw lay, belly upturned, as if she expected lightning to strike her at once. Instead, another hiccup came, and she groaned as her stomach seemed to leap up with it.
What a truly awful punishment for eating more than her fair share of freshkill, was all Pumpkinpaw could manage to think.
[break][break]
[newclass=".ahituna"]height: 350px;width: 450px; overflow: hidden;border: 10px solid #ffffff;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tunatuna"]padding: 5px; height: 310px;width: 410px; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0;-webkit-transition: all .4s linear;-moz-transition: all .4s linear;-ms-transition: all .4s linear;-o-transition: all .4s linear;transition: all .4s linear;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tunatuna:hover"]padding: 5px; height: 315px;width: 410px; opacity: 1;-webkit-transition: all .4s linear;-moz-transition: all .4s linear;-ms-transition: all .4s linear;-o-transition: all .4s linear;transition: all .4s linear;[/newclass]