Welcome to Gaia! ::

Laertes preferred cool weather--after all, that's why he chose to live in Domoria. That land wasn't organized, though, broken as it was into small, nomadic tribes, and its inhabitants were free to wander as they pleased, as long as they stayed out of everybody's way. So somtimes the giant, frosty cat made his way out of the snow and into the warmer, southern climes. "Warmer" meaning above 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The noonday sun shone brightly on a once-glacial field, now smoothed flat and covered with golden grass. Here and there the former frigid occupant had dropped a large boulder. Across one of these lay a powder-blue cat, absorbing the noonday heat. His eyes were closed, his tail drooped, the picture of relaxation, but he had no yet fallen asleep.

Startled out of his relaxed state by a strange voice, Laertes' head shot up and he rolled from his side onto his belly. Who would wander into strange lands and yell for other occupants? Maybe they did that in other places; maybe Laertes was too used to the violence of the rogues in Domoria. Still, he was compelled to respond. Anyone who goes looking for company probably isn't looking for trouble, unless the question was a trick--but Laertes felt confident he could handle a fight with any warm-lander.

He slid off his rock and began to pace through the grass toward the source of the voice. "I'm… here," he shouted back. The flora hid everything from view; you could plop a hundred soldiers into the field and walk past them unseen. Pushing the grass aside as he trod forward, Laertes suddenly came upon the land's other occupant, a dappled brown male. "Oh," he said, and sat, a bit off his game. "Hello."