First Opuss Woop Woop! Wow, just put up my first Opuss. This place is okay, buy all that's on it really is poetry. I mean sure, that's cool. It's up to you what your write but me? Poetry just bores and depresses me. I love reading and writing storys end of. But words..... I just can't make them go together like sport can. It's just not my stlye. Unlike reading about dragons and owls and mermaids and fantasy and cats a d dogs, but a 14 verses rhyme about the 9-11? No thanks. I love to play feral heart by the way, if you want to meet me it's Tieerra. I like RP'ing, I'm on every night from around 4 in the afternoon (British time that is) so try and find me! See ya OpalHeart Xxx

Ginger, The Wild Cat. Ginger was your ordinary, average house cat. Sleep, play eat, sleep then scratch something. All in a days work. But what for? Ginger had desided that he was no longer a run-of-the-mill house cat. Oh no, he was a pure bred wild cat, and he was determined to go and explore his new homeland as a feral cat, as a free spirit. And so, he set out on a great adventure. No sooner had he got out of the cat flap, he danced around in the wild world of his back garden, pouncing on unsuspecting birds from bushes and frolicking in the flower beds until the sunflowers were just a mushy,mud ridden mess. He teased the next door neighbours dog as it barked at this sudden intruder prancing upon the high fence. Ginger dangled his tail just out of the yapping terriers reach, drawing it higher till the dog lost control of it's leaps and bounds and fell head first in to the wheelie bins, much to the annoyance of it's person who dragged it inside by the collar scolding it all the while. Ginger purred in delight and leaped down off the fence with grace and agility unlike any house cat ever known in this great garden of wonders. The sun began to fade away into the hazy clouds as the evening approached this small garden of wild. Ginger basked in it's warm comforting glow, satisfied with a good days work. And as the sun set further into the sky, Ginger smiled like cats can as his person appears at the back door. " Alright you wild thing, I think that's enough nature living for one day. Now, how about some caviar?" Ginger strode into his abode as if he were a king among cats, which he was. He ate from his silver plater and sat on his silken cushion and purred so loud it rumbled the house. And as the hours passed, Ginger cuddled up on his persons lap, gazing at the true wild cats as they scavenged from the bins. With his persons fingers scratching just the right spot, he thought ' wild? This is as truly wild as I will ever be.' and with that, we conclude our little tale as Ginger, the king if the wild cats falls asleep on his bed or dreams, waiting for another wild adventure. THE END.