Hopping Along! // O + intro

ah morning mist! a plump, energetic shadow darted from here to there, cries of mice causing the molly to meow 'oh sorry's and the occasional 'it's ok! it's just me!'. the self-procliamed vegan stoppped a few times - most notably after she stepped on a tail - and bent down to examine the mouse. unfortantly for her, the mouse didn't seem to like getting stepped on. it rounded bit her paw before scurring away.

well, i did step on him. frog mused, licking at her paw. she glanced at it, and from the limited medical knowlage she had, she could tell that she would be fine so she proptly put her paw down and began to look around.

the landscape was familiar to her. the nice warm barn, the open air. frog couldn't help but sigh, completely content with her life. sure, it was lazy, but she had nox and she had her mice friends. and no fighting like those silly cats she heard rumors about. no sire! at the barn, everything was fine, and if it wasn't, well, nox always knew where to go.

speaking of, frog hadn't seen nox since she got up. which was odd, but even odder, the sun was just getting up. this left the fields empty - save for the mice and other friends of course - and, well, frog had never been more at peace.

you see, she wasn't just a playful, plump molly, she was also a tad shy. frog just didn't like speaking with the other cats - mainly because the few times she did they made fun of her name and ate mice. her lips curled at the thought. disgusting.

suddenly, a shadow crossed the edge of her vision. what? the shape darted over the grass, and when frog pounced on it, it didn't stop. urged on by her curiosity, frog began to chase the shape, wondering what in the world it was. was it a new type of mouse? a new friend? possibly. it p-smack!

frog groaned, flipping onto her back, her muzzle throbbing. she'd hit a pile of rocks. well that sucks! she thought, picking herself up and looking around. she didn't see anything really interesting, but there were a few twoleg nests a bit away. 
egged on by the promise - or really thoughts - of adventure, the molly began to race towards the twoleg place.