Post by *-*Winterfrost*-* on Mar 11, 2008 16:22:03 GMT -5
So, I figured that I might as well start/make up a quick series of short stories here. It is based on the Warriors series, but it's more about some loners in the Twolegplace than the forest cats. Later on, tho, it goes into the forest. So here goes; hope it isn't too terrible. ;D
My Own: Where to Go
Night closed in on the row of Twoleg nests, darker than Death's shadow. The sound of monsters roaring down the Thunderpaths was a constant background to the inky city. Street lamps poured their harsh orange light into the alleys, illuminating the world, enhancing the shadows.
A lone cat wandered one of these streets. Her pale gray pelt clung to her emaciated body, her bones easily visible beneath the tattered fur. Behind her stumbled two small kits. They panted heavily, struggling to keep up with their mother. The larger of the two seemed to be having more difficulties. On of his tiny white paws was brown with caked blood, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't avoid putting weight on it. To add to that, he looked nearly as unhealthy and emaciated as his mother.
The other kit looked better, as though he'd been taken care of fairly well. His dark tabby fur, a startling contrast to his brother and mother, was better groomed, and he looked like he'd eaten well for at least a half-moon. But his amber eyes were as wary as the queen's green ones, and just as frightened as his brother's blue ones.
There was one other in the party: a third kit swung gently from the mother cat's jaws. Her sliver-blue tabby pelt was so similar to her mothers and oldest brothers, and yet so jarringly different. In hues, with was matching, and easily identifiable as genetically the same. But in terms of beauty...it was like comparing a mutt dog to a purebred. It shone with only the smallest amount of light, and glistened without any. It was beyond compare.
The little she-kit, however, was too young and too naive about the world to know how truly pretty she was. And besides, she was asleep anyway.
As the little family passed under another street lamp and turned a corner, the limping kit finally mewed, "Momma, where are we going?"
The gray queen halted and looked around nervously at her son. She hadn't yet told them the reason she had roused them in the middle of the night to run from their nest. She had not told them the reason that they couldn't stay in their alley any longer. They were too young, and wouldn't understand in any case.
And the truth was that she had no idea where they were going either. All she knew was that if they had stayed for a moment longer than they had, none of them would be alive now. Then an idea came to her, and she tried to show more confidence.
"We're going to see your father."
The two tom-kits gasped. None of the kits knew who their father really was, but, as with all kits, they had numerous fantasies as to who he was. The older tom had often pretended that his father had been the kittypet of some rich Twoleg family, and that one-day they would go and live with him in his comfortable, safe nest. The dark tabby kit liked to think that his father was a quiet loner who loved his mother a lot and would come back some day to protect them.
Only the she-kit thought different. She dreamed that her sire was a cat from the forest. Of course, her kin didn't know what a forest was, and neither did she really. But she'd heard of it from passing wanderers, and it sounded adventurous and brave.
"How far is it, momma?" The white tom-kit bounced a little with excitement, then hissed with pain. He had stepped on his bloody paw. His mother stopped, set the she-kit on the ground, and turned to lick his paw, hoping to soothe the pain. He winced slightly, and she stopped, a worried look in her eyes.
"Not far, Quail, not far." The gray queen turned again and picked up the she-kit. "Come on Quail, Drip." Quail and Drip looked at each other, then followed.
She led them past two more rows of houses, and then stopped outside an alley. The tom-kits could scent the number of cats in this alley, and quailed in fear at the scent of meanness and evil coming from it. The queen paused for a moment, then pressed on. She passed numerous cats, all staring at her and her kits with distrust and fear. Finally, one cat stepped forward, blocking their path. He was huge, with black fur and green eyes that were as warm as icicles.
"Who are you?" he demanded is a tone of menace and disgust. "What do you want on BloodClan's territory?"
The queen tried looking him in the eye as her kits huddled between her forepaws. "My name...is Lilac," she mewed timidly. "And I'm here to see Drifter."
My Own: Where to Go
Night closed in on the row of Twoleg nests, darker than Death's shadow. The sound of monsters roaring down the Thunderpaths was a constant background to the inky city. Street lamps poured their harsh orange light into the alleys, illuminating the world, enhancing the shadows.
A lone cat wandered one of these streets. Her pale gray pelt clung to her emaciated body, her bones easily visible beneath the tattered fur. Behind her stumbled two small kits. They panted heavily, struggling to keep up with their mother. The larger of the two seemed to be having more difficulties. On of his tiny white paws was brown with caked blood, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't avoid putting weight on it. To add to that, he looked nearly as unhealthy and emaciated as his mother.
The other kit looked better, as though he'd been taken care of fairly well. His dark tabby fur, a startling contrast to his brother and mother, was better groomed, and he looked like he'd eaten well for at least a half-moon. But his amber eyes were as wary as the queen's green ones, and just as frightened as his brother's blue ones.
There was one other in the party: a third kit swung gently from the mother cat's jaws. Her sliver-blue tabby pelt was so similar to her mothers and oldest brothers, and yet so jarringly different. In hues, with was matching, and easily identifiable as genetically the same. But in terms of beauty...it was like comparing a mutt dog to a purebred. It shone with only the smallest amount of light, and glistened without any. It was beyond compare.
The little she-kit, however, was too young and too naive about the world to know how truly pretty she was. And besides, she was asleep anyway.
As the little family passed under another street lamp and turned a corner, the limping kit finally mewed, "Momma, where are we going?"
The gray queen halted and looked around nervously at her son. She hadn't yet told them the reason she had roused them in the middle of the night to run from their nest. She had not told them the reason that they couldn't stay in their alley any longer. They were too young, and wouldn't understand in any case.
And the truth was that she had no idea where they were going either. All she knew was that if they had stayed for a moment longer than they had, none of them would be alive now. Then an idea came to her, and she tried to show more confidence.
"We're going to see your father."
The two tom-kits gasped. None of the kits knew who their father really was, but, as with all kits, they had numerous fantasies as to who he was. The older tom had often pretended that his father had been the kittypet of some rich Twoleg family, and that one-day they would go and live with him in his comfortable, safe nest. The dark tabby kit liked to think that his father was a quiet loner who loved his mother a lot and would come back some day to protect them.
Only the she-kit thought different. She dreamed that her sire was a cat from the forest. Of course, her kin didn't know what a forest was, and neither did she really. But she'd heard of it from passing wanderers, and it sounded adventurous and brave.
"How far is it, momma?" The white tom-kit bounced a little with excitement, then hissed with pain. He had stepped on his bloody paw. His mother stopped, set the she-kit on the ground, and turned to lick his paw, hoping to soothe the pain. He winced slightly, and she stopped, a worried look in her eyes.
"Not far, Quail, not far." The gray queen turned again and picked up the she-kit. "Come on Quail, Drip." Quail and Drip looked at each other, then followed.
She led them past two more rows of houses, and then stopped outside an alley. The tom-kits could scent the number of cats in this alley, and quailed in fear at the scent of meanness and evil coming from it. The queen paused for a moment, then pressed on. She passed numerous cats, all staring at her and her kits with distrust and fear. Finally, one cat stepped forward, blocking their path. He was huge, with black fur and green eyes that were as warm as icicles.
"Who are you?" he demanded is a tone of menace and disgust. "What do you want on BloodClan's territory?"
The queen tried looking him in the eye as her kits huddled between her forepaws. "My name...is Lilac," she mewed timidly. "And I'm here to see Drifter."
The next installment will be up today or tomorrow.
Sorry 'bout that. I'm gonna try doing that later today.