About: Fatal The Panther(OC)   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

The leaves vacillated with the wind nefariously, the aroma of blood slinking through it like a viper's bite. In the grove there lay a muscular body, its onyx fur gleaming against the shining moon above. Eyes like the coldest of glaciers cut through the night like a lions claw, the maleficent hue like falling stalacites. Claws like a rattle snakes rattle screeched against ice, the sound like hell echoing through your ears. Here lay the motionless body of Fatal, one of the most evil, savagely felines in history.

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • Fatal The Panther(OC)
rdfs:comment
  • The leaves vacillated with the wind nefariously, the aroma of blood slinking through it like a viper's bite. In the grove there lay a muscular body, its onyx fur gleaming against the shining moon above. Eyes like the coldest of glaciers cut through the night like a lions claw, the maleficent hue like falling stalacites. Claws like a rattle snakes rattle screeched against ice, the sound like hell echoing through your ears. Here lay the motionless body of Fatal, one of the most evil, savagely felines in history.
dcterms:subject
abstract
  • The leaves vacillated with the wind nefariously, the aroma of blood slinking through it like a viper's bite. In the grove there lay a muscular body, its onyx fur gleaming against the shining moon above. Eyes like the coldest of glaciers cut through the night like a lions claw, the maleficent hue like falling stalacites. Claws like a rattle snakes rattle screeched against ice, the sound like hell echoing through your ears. Here lay the motionless body of Fatal, one of the most evil, savagely felines in history. Fatal: Fatal is considerably known as the killer of all, never dominated by others, always the evil one in charge. She is known far and wide for her villainous actions, and ruthless, belligerent attitude. She never had family, nor anyone to give her compassion, practically the cause of her ruthless attitude. Fatal has killed whomever stepped or traisped in her propinquity, never a claw lining her pelt. Even the essence of a glare can force you bolting off into the night, never looking back at the icy orbicular eyes glowering at you from behind the glare of the moon.
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