Lone Star Mountain Feral Outcry

Kailoh halted his pacing, enough was enough. He threw himself violently against the bars of his cell for what seemed to him like the millionth time. He had no idea how long he’d been stuck, just that he couldn’t take it anymore. His claws wore into the same grooves that he’d carved into the cold metal long ago.

All around him was darkness, he’d paced his cell so many times that he had it mapped out perfectly, straw in one corner, waste in the other. The grate in the cell’s floor continued to be a bitter sweet reminder of the outside of his cell. It’s running water and faint glow reminiscent of the water falls he’d napped near in the sun. He could almost feel the warmth on his fur.

Kailoh’s body had grown weak during the time he spent captive. He had been provided with sparse meals to begin with, now he hadn’t eaten in what seemed like months. Ignoring his growling stomach, Kailoh tried once more to reach the water below him, he needed water NOW. Refusing to accept his seemingly imminent demise, Kailoh howled as loud and as long as he could. May my captors come, at least I will have the chance to take them out before I die.