[Blackbird]

Sabbath could only hope this was a good idea.

The black-pelted Puma slunk along the terrain, claws digging into the ground as he sought footing. Climbing a mountain was hard, but a feline could do it. It was harder with his wounds, however. Although it was hard to see it with his dark colored pelt, there were patches of blood littering his pelt, mostly on the right side.

The Puma favored his right forepaw, limping rather heavily. There were a series of thin, painful but not life-threatening, scratches on his side, and a nick in his ear. There was a deep, painful gash that ran from his shoulder to his paw on his right foreleg, exposing muscles and giving glimpses of bone.

The Puma grimaced, but looked down upon the territory he had been planning on joining. At first, when he'd had his own territory, it had merely been a thought. But now, now that he'd been thrashed and thrown from his territory, it had become a reality.

Sabbath made his way down the mountain, keeping his nose out for the scent marks that would identify the border of the pack's territory. Once he found it, he would sit, careful not to trespass, and roar to gain the attention of someone who could invite him into the pack.

[Jonas]

Roars were not common in Gemini. He himself was relatively silent, stalking towards the sound with head low and ears back. This, unlike many of the cats who had come before, was someone asking for attention. He knew his kind to take, not to ask, and so a change in favor of diplomacy made him suspicious. Though, to be fair, he was a suspicious sort on principle. He had to be.

Snow still heavily blanketed the land, icing over on a clear but cold day. His paws crunched through the frosty layer, not so silent after all. Against the mountain, the sound carried. The plains did little to obscure his coming. Sound was strange, flush against the stone. It echoed and sounded strange, not quite as it should.

(It took him an embarrassingly long time to find the puma as a result. He doesn’t want to talk about it.)

He eventually found the cat around a curving expanse of snowed-in rock, the peaks of which jutted from their crust like jagged teeth. He stops and regards the puma for some time, tail switching mildly back and forth behind him. Here was a creature of tooth and claw, of no pack or pride. Injured, he notes from the scent of iron stark against the bite of ice. A threat, but not much of one.

“Well?” he grunts softly without preamble. Get on with it, then.

[Sabbath]

The panther sniffed the air, ears twitching. This was likely not the most common place for strays to approach from, so he was willing to wait. That didn't mean he wasn't impatient, though. His injuries hurt, but he wasn't capable of tending them. Hopefully someone in Gemini would be able to help him.

His rounded ears perked up, picking up the scent of snow being crushed beneath paws. He peered around, before sniffing the air. Definitely feline, although he couldn't say what sort. Although, he was willing to admit that he was surprised to see a feline; canids seemed much more common in packs.

A lion stepped into sight, and he stood to greet them, inclining his head. The other was surprisingly soft spoken, grunting only a single word. The Puma took a moment to think of what he wanted to see. "My name is Sabbath, and I would be honored to join your pack."