Post by wildheart on Feb 15, 2009 21:39:13 GMT -5
Fog covered the moors in a dense, heavy blanket, Shielding everything from view. Swiftail was climbing a stone ledge when She heard the Voices.
The wind whirled around her, lifting up the soft tufts of fur on her underbelly. The wind was not cold, But rather soft and eerie, bringing with it scents of the unknown and adventure.
Suddenly the ledge seemed to double in size. It grew taller and taller into the sky, never ending. Swifttail lost her footing on a slippery rock and fell, fell, fell, down to the bottom. But there was no rocky bottom. Instead there was a soft scent of moss growing on the walls of a cave. The same scent wafted up her nose, this time Overwhelming.
Prey, she could smell it..but not the sickly tainted morsels on the moor. Instead this prey was soft and fresh...Just caught. Swiftail jumped to her paws. There in front of her loomed a pile as big as the cavern of fresh Rabbits. Not caring about manners, she threw her body at the pile, Ripping and shredding the meat, enjoying the aroma of blood. But the Aroma wasn't enough to cover the far away scent. It called to her, pulled her out of the food and into the fog. The wind picked up right as her paw outside the cave.
A young She cat was sitting there, tail flicking. She narrowed her eyes and took of into the distance. Swifttail tried to yowl. nothing came. Instead she followed the retreating shape. Farther and farther into the whiteness. Finally the cat stoped. In front of her was a pool of black silhouettes. The She-cat beckoned her to look closely. There in the puddle was her clan, dying of sickness. Bodies were piled in the elders den, with no one to bury them. But wait, there she was! walking torwards the pile! suddenly The pile grew bigger and bigger, sucking her into its depths. All the bodies became one, A many eyed monster. She gave a silent yowl of protest as the monster reared back. A paw on her shoulder brought her back to the White. The voice was the same she heard on the white foggy moor, but after all the suffocating bleariness, the she cats message was loud.
"The chosen five will rise to answer the call
In dire need one shall fall
Warriors of the Sky hidden from sight
The chosen shall meet in the depths of the night "
The Foggy white turned into a whirling mass, The She cat turning to dust, being pulled by the wind.
Yowling in fear, Swifttail's eyes flew open, ears still ringing with a prophecy.
The wind whirled around her, lifting up the soft tufts of fur on her underbelly. The wind was not cold, But rather soft and eerie, bringing with it scents of the unknown and adventure.
Suddenly the ledge seemed to double in size. It grew taller and taller into the sky, never ending. Swifttail lost her footing on a slippery rock and fell, fell, fell, down to the bottom. But there was no rocky bottom. Instead there was a soft scent of moss growing on the walls of a cave. The same scent wafted up her nose, this time Overwhelming.
Prey, she could smell it..but not the sickly tainted morsels on the moor. Instead this prey was soft and fresh...Just caught. Swiftail jumped to her paws. There in front of her loomed a pile as big as the cavern of fresh Rabbits. Not caring about manners, she threw her body at the pile, Ripping and shredding the meat, enjoying the aroma of blood. But the Aroma wasn't enough to cover the far away scent. It called to her, pulled her out of the food and into the fog. The wind picked up right as her paw outside the cave.
A young She cat was sitting there, tail flicking. She narrowed her eyes and took of into the distance. Swifttail tried to yowl. nothing came. Instead she followed the retreating shape. Farther and farther into the whiteness. Finally the cat stoped. In front of her was a pool of black silhouettes. The She-cat beckoned her to look closely. There in the puddle was her clan, dying of sickness. Bodies were piled in the elders den, with no one to bury them. But wait, there she was! walking torwards the pile! suddenly The pile grew bigger and bigger, sucking her into its depths. All the bodies became one, A many eyed monster. She gave a silent yowl of protest as the monster reared back. A paw on her shoulder brought her back to the White. The voice was the same she heard on the white foggy moor, but after all the suffocating bleariness, the she cats message was loud.
"The chosen five will rise to answer the call
In dire need one shall fall
Warriors of the Sky hidden from sight
The chosen shall meet in the depths of the night "
The Foggy white turned into a whirling mass, The She cat turning to dust, being pulled by the wind.
Yowling in fear, Swifttail's eyes flew open, ears still ringing with a prophecy.
