|
|
Post by Meerful on Dec 21, 2009 1:11:48 GMT -5
 MOONY,,[/color][/font][/size] the woods are lovely, dark, and deep [/center] [/color]
Moony was, to some extent, bored. No, he was beyond bored. He was practically dead, he was so bored. In his boredom, Moony could imagine that being trapped in a stuffy room full of kittypet slop and old women would be mildly more entertaining than what he was doing now. Unfortunately, the inner ‘wolf’, as Moony liked to call it, was pining for something even remotely interesting to do. Anything had to be better than pacing around the loner’s terra with nothing to do, no one to talk to, no one to mess with, no one at all. Nothing. It was at times like these that Moony’s less anti-social side made a grand appearance and talked up the nearest cat. Or tree. Even a tree would have better stories than this purgatory! Moony allowed a low, almost canine-sounding, growl to erupt from his lips. Why was his life so bland?
The other cats he had been around had simply become too much for him though. Lovesick as they were, they were literally making him sick of their love. He was definitely all for supporting love and those who indulged in it, but Moony was in no way voyeuristic and wanted nothing to do with the two cats as they started sweet-talking one another. Too. Much. For. Moony. So, instead of trying to save his stomach from the disgustingly sweetness radiating from the pair, Moony took his chance to escape and find something to do that didn’t bore him to tears or make him retch. His search, however, thus far, nothing. Not a single soul around to talk to. He would even go so far as to simply crossing the path of a clan cat and putting up a fight, just for something to do.
Flopping down on the grass, Moony huffed discontentedly and unsheathed his long, foreign claws. It was no secret that Moony had come from a region so drastically different from the one here. The cats from his country were basically born to kill and devour. His mother, however, was such an enigmatic exception. She preferred to be in shows and to perform. Moony scoffed out loud even thinking about such trivial and useless parts of life. What kind of cat seriously wanted to give up a life of freedom for that? Moony couldn’t even imagine not feeling wind in his fur, tasting fresh killed prey, killing prey in general, fights with other cats, his friends…
His friends were some of the most important attributes to his life. Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Moony could not even fathom a world without those three. A crooked grin etched itself onto his face, and he rolled over onto his back, making up his mind to wait for one of his friends to stumble across him, because he knew that, inevitably, they would.
but i've got promises to keep and miles to go before i sleep [/center][/color][/font] tag MSSRS MOONY AND PRONGS
word count 471
lyrics robert frost
muse workable
notes finished! good first post for moony, yes?
©Thunder loves Remus Lupin! |
|
|
|
Post by Blackie on Dec 24, 2009 22:58:04 GMT -5
Maybe it was just his horribly delicate self-esteem. He sincerely hoped it was, otherwise one could conclude that there was truth in his new suspicion. And to be so would severely ruin his day, which was simply intolerable because his days were much to amazing to ruin. You have to realize, he was in all of his days, and that just made them spectacular. A day without himself was as draining as the sea without water. Unheard of. Yet, now giving the furious kittypet crouching before him a look of utter confusion, Prongs was picking up a strange new idea. Could cats not like him? But why should they ever want to do that?
"Now, listen, please." the tom mewed, trying to pull himself into sensibility. Not being liked made him a little discombobulated and a trifle angry, and he did not care for either feeling. "I really have no idea what you're so upset about -"
"Scum!" snarled the kittypet, who was larger than Prongs and bristling at a surprising rate. Until now, he hadn't known that the fur on one's paws could stick up. "You're stealing! Stealing!"
Prongs' tail twitched a little, his dark eyes narrowing. He never cared to be accused of anything unless it was something clever. Stealing, however, was low. Very low. It was what snivelers like that grimy Snaketongue did. The whole of ShadowClan, if he was daring enough to go that far. Simpletons stole.
"Maybe you ought to tell me what I'm stealing?" he suggested Cooley. The kittypet showed his teeth again, growling. With a large paw, he indicated a patch of strong smelling leaves.
"You were after the catmint, weren't you?" he demanded. "That's my patch!"
"Catmint!" Prongs gave an indignant cry. His eyes went hard. Only kits confiscated something as petty as catmint. The house cat flexed his claws, recognizing the anger in the loner's face. As if he thought the former Clan cat was preparing to fight, the larger tom showed off the muscles in his shoulders. They rolled beneath piebald black and white fur, sending a clear warning signal. Prongs eyed them enviously, knowing that he wasn't able to brag bulk. His limbs were skinny rails beneath a thin tan coating. Pathetic compared to the well-fed fatty challenging him now.
"Fine," mewed Prongs. "I never wanted your grimy catmint, but I'll go away now. Stupid fuzzball."
The kittypet spat again. "What's the matter, scared to fight?" he taunted. But the loner, though peeved, didn't bother to reply. Long limbs took him quickly away from Twoleg Place and the greedy kittypet. Ordinarily, Prongs would have lunged into a fight. Only, all the ordinary times he had Padfoot with him. Without Padfoot, Prongs felt a little vulnerable.
[/making a transition, sorry for the sloppiness. trying to move things along]
After traveling for awhile, the lanky tomcat neared onto the unclaimed territories where the loners and rogues roamed free, much to the annoyance of the Clans who mistrusted anything unlike themselves. A small wind gust bristled through the grass into his coarse fur, biting into his tough skin. Prongs ran on, ignoring the unpleasant feel of cold, his large eyes focused on the points of the land. In the distance, the Spook Barn rose bleak against the sky, its forlorn shape sagging beneath the weight of age. Trees dotted the territory in a reasonable effort to provide some type of shelter for the widlife which lived there.
Panting, Prongs paused on a rise which might have been a hill to a bug, yet provided a clear view. The sky loomed bright above him, whispers of white clouds strewn across the blue like froth on an ocean. The air was clear and fresh, the crisp smell of chill fading beneath the warmth that the sun had seen fit to beam down to earth. The tawny cat lifted his head and breathed deeply, enjoying the simple sense of life. His eyes turned intelligently on the spreading landscape, the tom searched for signs of life. He was eager to hunt, mostly because his stomach was turning by the distance between his recent meals. He was certain he looked bonier than usual, a lack of prey to be blamed on the snowy cold that had settled in. As he observed his surroundings, his claws kneading and gouging deeper ridges into the ground with the intensity of his anticipation, a slight movement caught his quick eye.
Instinctively, as if they could feel their heartbeats as vividly as his own, Prongs knew it was one of his three friends. A smile curled his whiskers, wrinkling the skin on the bridge of his nose.
"Hey!" he called, leaning forward in preparation for another run. "Moony, that you you old howler?"
[/sorrrrrrrrrrrrry this took me so long and that the quality isn't the best XP [/size] |
|
