Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2010 16:30:32 GMT -5
Lynxkit stalked out of camp, leaving a surprised, and a bit scared, Tawny and Ginger. Her tail lashed at the thought of the she-cats. Love with a kittypet, loner blood! Both things shouldn't even be thought of. Lynx's ears flattened and her eyes narrowed at a rustling in the bushes. She crouched into a perfect hunting crouch and sprang, catching the mouse by surprise. She buried her prey and continued. The sight and feel of mouse blood on her paws pleased her and she smiled. Slightly.
Lynxkit trudged across the snow, cursing under her breath, until she got to the river. The sight of it made her feel lost and frogotten. Alone. A sudden sadness filled her eyes as she stared across it's foamy depths. She felt like wailing like a lost kit. Maybe she was one. Burnign tears pushed their ways into her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. "Mother! Where are you?!" She screamed to the water. Nothing answered but the sad cry of a hawk above. Hawk! Kynx scrambled into the protection of the trees so the bird wouldn't sight her. Hopefully it hadn't already.
She nosed around the light undergrowth, making no noise, what-so-ever. She needed to fins a silent, enclosed space to train where cats couldn't find her. She stalked around, seeing nothing useful. She lifted her nose and scented a bit of tansy. She followed the smell to a small patch of the soft plant. It's fluffy nectar tickled her nose and made her sneeze. Trees encircled the tiny, yello field, hushing the birds and stilling the mice and squirells. She felt safe here, where no one would find her. Still, she padded on for a better safehouse.
Lynx surveyed her surroundings. She was in a shallow ditch, hidden under a tree root where no one would find her. It was perfect. Her imagination started right away and she took off training in her own ways.
Lynxkit located a small, dried up leaf to her right. She backed up a bit and crouched, pretending the leaf was an enemy, even better, Gingerpelt. She narrowed her eyes at it and tried to block the wave of emotions that crashed in on her at the thought of the RiverClan deputy. Hollow sadness, regrets of past events, boiling anger, hateful revenge. It swallowed her up like a river, no mercy met, drowning her the best it could. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.
Lynx looked at her paws then at her pelt. She was shaking. Not from fear, the cold, nor from happiness-beyond-belief. She was angery, betrayed and forgotten. She doubted anyone had even noticed her disappearance. No one ever did, except Gingerpelt. She hissed at herself. What does it matter? she asked herself silently. That warrior means nothing, NOTHING, to me. Not anymore.
The kit shook her head. All she wanted to do was train. She would show everyone: Gingerpelt, Tawnypaw, Dawnstar; even Breezefeather! She would show them what she really, truely was made out of. They would all watch as she won their wars, caught their prey, battled their foes. And some day, some day, she would maybe battle them.
She hissed once again, trying in vain to convince herself it was okay. She knew it wasn't. Lynx shook horribly, extended her claws and leapt at the leaf. She tore it to shreds in her anger and madness. Not satisfied she rounded on a rabbit, frightened from it's cover, giving chase. She jumped, farther than ever, and landed squarely on the rabbit's shoulders. It squealed as her weight pushed it to the ground. Lynx bit it's neck, ending it's days, and ripped the furry winter coat of the poor creature.
Calm it, Lynxkit! Calm it! Cool down, chill, it's ok. The thought popped into her head from no where. She screeched in fury, hissing insults at it's words. I should be an apprentice now! I have no reason to calm down, chill, or cool it! It won't be ok!
Her claws stopped, her mind burned. She stared at her handiwork and burst into tears. The white rabbit was now unrecognizable. Blood soaked the fluff and torn pieces of her victim lay scattered around her. All there was left, really, was a bloody mess of prey. A gruesome picture flashed into her mind. It was the remains of something. No, a cat. Wait... not just any cat, Gingerpelt.
It corrupted the poor kit's heart. She through her head to up and faced the sky, dirtied with clouds. Tears burned her eyes, making everything blurry. "Leave me alone!" She screeched to StarClan and a fresh wave of tears burst.
She looked at the rabbit. A patrol would find it and know who had done the wreck. Her smell was all over it. Shame stung the young she-cat's pelt, shame mixed with her anger, betrayal, regrets, hollow shadows of sadness. Nothing was left of her life. It all lay in pieces, like her victim in front of her. Sh turned quickly away from the image and sprinted of, eyes closed tight and head down. She let the wind fly through her fur and her short tail stream out.
She turned a bend and met the river, wild as ever. She looked across it's murky depths of foam and weed and felt her blood boil. The river had took her family from her. Nothing was left of her generation but her. But that might be gone. Soon. She felt her blood boil and her feeling of betrayal rose, strong against the other feelings. "Why did you take them away from me? Why did all this have to happen? No one understands! Please, tell me what to do!" She screamed at the hurricane water. There was no answer, she didn't expect one.
Lynx buried her face in her paws and cried, for the second or third time that day. Without noticing, she unsheathed her claws and ripped at the ground before lifting both head and paws till she was sitting on her haunches. She turned her pads inwards, toward her face, and let them fall.
A searing pain blinded her and she screamed in agony. Her eyes closed tight and she let her head drop. Drops of blood fell from her left eye and onto the ground below. She opened one eye and stared at it in disbelief, fear, and pain. A puddle collected and soon ran into the river, losgt into the swirling foam. She opened her right eye and blood ozzed into it, making everything red and wet. She closed it again and groped for some moss.
Her paws flitted across a soft roll of moss, laying on the river bank. It was soaked through and through from the waves of the river. She tore it from the ground and held it to her eye. Lynx clenched her teeth and held her eyes tightly shut. Finally, the pain died down and she opened her eyes. No blood rolled to stain her vision this time and she stood shakely to her feet. Urgently, she searched for a calm spot in the river to reflect her vision and find what happened.
She sprinted down the bank, looking left and right for some silver mirror to look in. At last, she came to a soft spot where the water had died down and stood over it. She first refused to look at her image but finally glanced at herself. Her fur was ruffle and wet with fear. Her ears were pricked and alert, paws trense, claws extended. She gasped in astonishment, fear and bewilderment. Her icy eyes shone brightly but through her left eye was a jagged red scar. It shone raw and bloody and the fur around it was crusted with dry scabs.
Lynx carefully leaned toward the water and let one paw gently poke the image, sending ripples flying across the sheen and destroying the reflection. She shakely stood and waited for the water to calm before stepping into the wet mass. The water reached her belly and caught the fur there, soaking it. She dunked her head underneath it's suface and gently scrbubed her injured eye with the moss. Scab came away in chunk and she finally leapt from the frozen waves.
Again, she stared at her image in shock. She could see the cut better now. The blood was gone and she stared sadly at it in shame. It gave her a ragged look, adding to her appearance. She gulped sadly and turned away from it's ugly splash. Her tail hit the water as she turned and fled, abolishing the image, but just before the ripples flew, her image smiled.
Lynx ran, pumping herself harder and harder before until she reached the spot where her mouse was buried. She uncovered it and padded into camp, head down. She quickly dropped her kill on the pile and hisd in the nursery where no one would see her cut.
Scarred for life.
Lynxkit trudged across the snow, cursing under her breath, until she got to the river. The sight of it made her feel lost and frogotten. Alone. A sudden sadness filled her eyes as she stared across it's foamy depths. She felt like wailing like a lost kit. Maybe she was one. Burnign tears pushed their ways into her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. "Mother! Where are you?!" She screamed to the water. Nothing answered but the sad cry of a hawk above. Hawk! Kynx scrambled into the protection of the trees so the bird wouldn't sight her. Hopefully it hadn't already.
She nosed around the light undergrowth, making no noise, what-so-ever. She needed to fins a silent, enclosed space to train where cats couldn't find her. She stalked around, seeing nothing useful. She lifted her nose and scented a bit of tansy. She followed the smell to a small patch of the soft plant. It's fluffy nectar tickled her nose and made her sneeze. Trees encircled the tiny, yello field, hushing the birds and stilling the mice and squirells. She felt safe here, where no one would find her. Still, she padded on for a better safehouse.
Lynx surveyed her surroundings. She was in a shallow ditch, hidden under a tree root where no one would find her. It was perfect. Her imagination started right away and she took off training in her own ways.
Lynxkit located a small, dried up leaf to her right. She backed up a bit and crouched, pretending the leaf was an enemy, even better, Gingerpelt. She narrowed her eyes at it and tried to block the wave of emotions that crashed in on her at the thought of the RiverClan deputy. Hollow sadness, regrets of past events, boiling anger, hateful revenge. It swallowed her up like a river, no mercy met, drowning her the best it could. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.
Lynx looked at her paws then at her pelt. She was shaking. Not from fear, the cold, nor from happiness-beyond-belief. She was angery, betrayed and forgotten. She doubted anyone had even noticed her disappearance. No one ever did, except Gingerpelt. She hissed at herself. What does it matter? she asked herself silently. That warrior means nothing, NOTHING, to me. Not anymore.
The kit shook her head. All she wanted to do was train. She would show everyone: Gingerpelt, Tawnypaw, Dawnstar; even Breezefeather! She would show them what she really, truely was made out of. They would all watch as she won their wars, caught their prey, battled their foes. And some day, some day, she would maybe battle them.
She hissed once again, trying in vain to convince herself it was okay. She knew it wasn't. Lynx shook horribly, extended her claws and leapt at the leaf. She tore it to shreds in her anger and madness. Not satisfied she rounded on a rabbit, frightened from it's cover, giving chase. She jumped, farther than ever, and landed squarely on the rabbit's shoulders. It squealed as her weight pushed it to the ground. Lynx bit it's neck, ending it's days, and ripped the furry winter coat of the poor creature.
Calm it, Lynxkit! Calm it! Cool down, chill, it's ok. The thought popped into her head from no where. She screeched in fury, hissing insults at it's words. I should be an apprentice now! I have no reason to calm down, chill, or cool it! It won't be ok!
Her claws stopped, her mind burned. She stared at her handiwork and burst into tears. The white rabbit was now unrecognizable. Blood soaked the fluff and torn pieces of her victim lay scattered around her. All there was left, really, was a bloody mess of prey. A gruesome picture flashed into her mind. It was the remains of something. No, a cat. Wait... not just any cat, Gingerpelt.
It corrupted the poor kit's heart. She through her head to up and faced the sky, dirtied with clouds. Tears burned her eyes, making everything blurry. "Leave me alone!" She screeched to StarClan and a fresh wave of tears burst.
She looked at the rabbit. A patrol would find it and know who had done the wreck. Her smell was all over it. Shame stung the young she-cat's pelt, shame mixed with her anger, betrayal, regrets, hollow shadows of sadness. Nothing was left of her life. It all lay in pieces, like her victim in front of her. Sh turned quickly away from the image and sprinted of, eyes closed tight and head down. She let the wind fly through her fur and her short tail stream out.
She turned a bend and met the river, wild as ever. She looked across it's murky depths of foam and weed and felt her blood boil. The river had took her family from her. Nothing was left of her generation but her. But that might be gone. Soon. She felt her blood boil and her feeling of betrayal rose, strong against the other feelings. "Why did you take them away from me? Why did all this have to happen? No one understands! Please, tell me what to do!" She screamed at the hurricane water. There was no answer, she didn't expect one.
Lynx buried her face in her paws and cried, for the second or third time that day. Without noticing, she unsheathed her claws and ripped at the ground before lifting both head and paws till she was sitting on her haunches. She turned her pads inwards, toward her face, and let them fall.
A searing pain blinded her and she screamed in agony. Her eyes closed tight and she let her head drop. Drops of blood fell from her left eye and onto the ground below. She opened one eye and stared at it in disbelief, fear, and pain. A puddle collected and soon ran into the river, losgt into the swirling foam. She opened her right eye and blood ozzed into it, making everything red and wet. She closed it again and groped for some moss.
Her paws flitted across a soft roll of moss, laying on the river bank. It was soaked through and through from the waves of the river. She tore it from the ground and held it to her eye. Lynx clenched her teeth and held her eyes tightly shut. Finally, the pain died down and she opened her eyes. No blood rolled to stain her vision this time and she stood shakely to her feet. Urgently, she searched for a calm spot in the river to reflect her vision and find what happened.
She sprinted down the bank, looking left and right for some silver mirror to look in. At last, she came to a soft spot where the water had died down and stood over it. She first refused to look at her image but finally glanced at herself. Her fur was ruffle and wet with fear. Her ears were pricked and alert, paws trense, claws extended. She gasped in astonishment, fear and bewilderment. Her icy eyes shone brightly but through her left eye was a jagged red scar. It shone raw and bloody and the fur around it was crusted with dry scabs.
Lynx carefully leaned toward the water and let one paw gently poke the image, sending ripples flying across the sheen and destroying the reflection. She shakely stood and waited for the water to calm before stepping into the wet mass. The water reached her belly and caught the fur there, soaking it. She dunked her head underneath it's suface and gently scrbubed her injured eye with the moss. Scab came away in chunk and she finally leapt from the frozen waves.
Again, she stared at her image in shock. She could see the cut better now. The blood was gone and she stared sadly at it in shame. It gave her a ragged look, adding to her appearance. She gulped sadly and turned away from it's ugly splash. Her tail hit the water as she turned and fled, abolishing the image, but just before the ripples flew, her image smiled.
Lynx ran, pumping herself harder and harder before until she reached the spot where her mouse was buried. She uncovered it and padded into camp, head down. She quickly dropped her kill on the pile and hisd in the nursery where no one would see her cut.
Scarred for life.