Voice: Italic #666666
The lithe movements of this minx are of a tantalizing grace, with a subtle rhythm that she seems to live by and never misses. How else could she move with such precision? Life is a dance, for her, drifting by as if in a dream. A ratty, tattered gypsy is she--a fact which her feet and body do well to hide. When the frill comes out, however, it is obvious at how shabbily she keeps herself, and how worn she is. Those are always the best, right? It means she doesn’t need breaking in. This little Pumal’s body is of a midnight black hue, while her frill itself contains the lightest lavenders, silvers, and dusky byzantiums. Her tail has a slight kink to it, as if it has been broken and never truly set, as well as a tattered right ear. She is blind on her entire left row of eyes, a long scar running down her face.
Worn and used she may be, but her personality may be one of the sweetest ones yet. Never does she ease up on her personal charm, and keeps an air of mystery about herself with a good amount of work. That beat she keeps when dancing around life seems to be reflected in her voice, as she speaks in a good rhythm with her syllables, making one want to hear her say more and more. It’s quite frustrating, since she’s generally a quiet Panthera. She is also the large ball of fuzz that you will wake up to, hogging the bed in the middle of the night whether she was invited or not. Freedom is all well and good, but she enjoys having someone to be close to, as well.
Birthday Present from the PIF
Meaning: Lying Tongue
Voice: Bold #E51111
The highest male rank in the Panthera world, this particular lord wears the title with great pride. Every step, every turn of his head, is regal and done with purpose. His dark umber brown body is marked with faded pink scars at his flank and legs to prove testament to his strength and endurance. The blood red and pale orange frill around his neck is large; naturally billowing and flaring out slightly even when relaxed to give him a constant look of aggression about him. The frills themselves are pristine--whether because none have ever been on the business end of his long canines and lived to tell the tale remains untold. All four of his eyes glitter with a fierce pumpkin orange hue flecked with gold. His muscles are fully matured and numerous though he is no great hulking figure like one would expect from such a statement. He is built as a true King--ready to take on any challenge but reserved to let others fend off threats first.
True to his rank, this male will make anyone around him into a personal attendant at the threat of them losing an appendage or organ should they not comply. But he is not so straight-forward as his brethren--he holds a silver tongue for his species and has a way of wording things to make them sound in your own personal best interest rather than his own. Aiming to spellbind those willing enough to listen to his words, he would have the world at his paws in a whisper. However, he is used to failures and does well to hide this from the world. He is the star of every stage he steps onto and even if his plotting does not go as planned, the show must go on. Another willing victim to servitude is always just around the corner, after all.
Long protected by her kin, she bears none of the physical scars typical to her species, but her mind has not been so lucky. This young Aurata has seen things that no young creature should have to, and it has left its mark on her. She's unnaturally timid for a big cat, with a perpetual expression of wide-eyed anxiety. Crowds bother her intensely, and the presence of even a few strangers is enough to put her highly on edge. When around others, she tends to stick to the corners of a room, always with a wall on one side. With her family, she is physically affectionate, but even to them she rarely speaks. It’s difficult for anyone outside her immediate relations to gain her trust, even a Bonded, and even the slightest misstep could undo months of relationship building.
She’s gentle as she is skittish, and not much of a fighter. But if she’s cornered, or even just pushed too far, she’ll snap, exploding into a fury of teeth and claws. Though she has little skill or technique, she is utterly reckless in her violent spells. She doesn't even seem to notice any injury done to herself; practically the only thing that will stop her is the death of her target. When the spell passes, however, she’ll retreat even farther back into her shell, horrified by what she has done.
Her frill is dark for one of her rank, almost maroon, fading to pink at the edges, the same shade as her eyes. When spread, you can see that it is overlaid with thin threads of silver, like cracks spiderwebbing across glass. Her coat is a soft, muted gray, with just a touch of white at the tip of her tail.