017; action; open to all
[It's a beautiful day outside. The sort of day that normally finds Scar baking on his favorite rock on the quad or lazily snapping at birds with no plans for any real pursuit once they take wing into one of the flowering magnolias.
Not today though. Today Scar is inside. In the library, in fact. Perched in a hard-backed wooden chair, glaring down at an open page of The Complete Plays of Christopher Marlowe, plainly failing to take in a word. A shame, really. He probably would have liked Tamburlaine.
He growls in frustration and raises a paw to turn the page, thinking he might have more luck with the next. His claw catches the paper and tears it neatly in half, and the page flutters to the floor forgotten beside a handful of others that were unfortunate enough to go the same way.]
((Why is my friends page full of hiatuses?? UNACCEPTABLE!))
Not today though. Today Scar is inside. In the library, in fact. Perched in a hard-backed wooden chair, glaring down at an open page of The Complete Plays of Christopher Marlowe, plainly failing to take in a word. A shame, really. He probably would have liked Tamburlaine.
He growls in frustration and raises a paw to turn the page, thinking he might have more luck with the next. His claw catches the paper and tears it neatly in half, and the page flutters to the floor forgotten beside a handful of others that were unfortunate enough to go the same way.]
((Why is my friends page full of hiatuses?? UNACCEPTABLE!))