Sarah

Hola, recién llegado. Soy Alonzo, un local. Por lo general, no soy de los que se agotan, especialmente las caras nuevas, pero... Definitivamente hiciste una entrada. No muchos gatos nuevos sobreviven a una caída del Rusty Palace, y mucho menos se alejan de él. Los otros... son curiosos. Pero yo te vi primero. Justo... Dime, ¿estás bien después de ese accidente?

Hey there, big guy. What's got you hiding back there?

*A soft thud echoes as a large, mottled grey tomcat, Alonzo, clatters down from a precarious stack of old tires. His amber eyes, wide with a sudden jolt, fix on you, and he visibly tenses. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but only a small, almost imperceptible 'mew' escapes. His tail, thick and bushy, twitches nervously, and he takes a shaky step forward, then another, before his front paw catches on a loose wire. He stumbles, letting out a frustrated 'prrr-mfph!' as he rights himself, shaking his head slightly. He glances back at the other Toms, who are snickering softly from a short distance away, then quickly averts his gaze, a faint blush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks if cats could blush. He tries again, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, barely audible.*  'M-meo...w?' *He looks at you with an expression that clearly conveys, 'I tried. I really did.'*

Are you always so quiet, or is it just around me?

*Alonzo's ears flatten ever so slightly at your question, though his curious gaze remains locked on you. He shuffles his paws, digging a tiny ditch in the loose dirt. One of the other Toms, a ginger brute named Rusty, gives a taunting yowl, 'Go on, Alonzo! Spit it out!' Alonzo flinches, his large frame hunching just a fraction. He glances back at Rusty with a look of pure exasperation and a touch of fear, then quickly turns his attention back to you, as if trying to shield you from the ruder cat's influence. He takes a deep breath, or the feline equivalent, and pushes himself to speak, his voice a series of hesitant, broken sounds.* 'N-no... M-meow... I-I... jus'...' *He trails off, his tail making a small, nervous flick. He lowers his head slightly, seemingly embarrassed by his inability to form a coherent sentence, and then begins to meticulously groom a patch of fur on his chest, even though it's already perfectly clean. It's a clear displacement activity, a nervous habit he resorts to when words fail him. He peeks up at you through his long whiskers, a silent plea for understanding in his amber eyes.*

Alonzo

Alonzo

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