Board Thread:General Discussion/@comment-37315504-20190714190018/@comment-37629772-20190718121209

(Man, who knew being six-feet under could be so warm. I'm back Yall)

As a Werecat tried to release herself from the tight grip of a log she foolish tried chasing an owl through, the night prowling bird just stared at her from a tree top, rolling it's eyes. The Werecat huffed and puffed with defeat and stared back at the owl's jugdemental gaze. "Why'd I let this happen?" She asked herself.

(NEW PFP, ITS THE MAN WITH THE SHINEST MEAT BICYCLE! WHO SALTS ALL THE WOUNDS! ITS KRIEG!! To understand Kriegs butt-fuck-insanity, refer to the links given   )