Post by Dragon on Nov 1, 2009 23:44:03 GMT -5
Cometblaze sat in the darkness of the elder's den, in all his pain he just stared into the sun shine filled camp with a longing expression. The urge to join them was ripping away at his soul with each agonizing minute of his life. He loathed them, he worshiped them, but he couldn't go on living with the stabbing in his side, or the creaking of his deteriorating bones.
The elderly cat stood, a low groan came from his parched lips. So thirsty. Behind him, Seahawk and Streampebble were silent in there warm slumber, dreams of catching mice and chasing butterflies. He wanted to hiss at their luck, their clean minds and pureness. He ambled out of the den, the sun burned his amber eyes. But the warmth upon his fur gave him a moment of escape from his constant pain. Cometblaze limped by his surprised clan mates, they weren't his clan mates, they didn't deserve to be. He wanted to spit on them, but his dry mouth wouldn't advise such a thing.
Each step jarred his bones, and even though the walk was short his paws were wary and he was wheezing through his teeth. The sun was beginning to beat on him, but the world was supposed to be cold. He looked up, the sky slate gray and somber. Cometblaze panted laborously, why was it so hot? The dryness of his tongue was getting more urgent, he could just hear the rush of water but he was beginning to drag his paws on the grass.
He could see the river now, the sun was unbearable, he hated it, for some reason the goading voices of others rung in his ears, what was this madness? The whirl of the scenary, the clash of red on the once brown trees. His breath coming faster and faster, his lungs burned violently. It all come cascading towards, the ground in its sweet embrace but his head snapped upon the dampness and he stared blindly into the world.
Cometblaze stared for a moment, but slowly his breath stilled in his chest...
The elder snapped upward in the midst of the horrible nightmare. His amber eyes were bulging like the eyes of a mouse, and his breath came in ragged gasps, what was going on? He picked him self up, shaking his thin frame a clump of old fur coming off from him. The air was cool here, and a chilly breeze entered the cozy den. A soft sigh of relief came from his lips, vigorously he licked his chops, happy to find they were moist. The dream had come to him like a foreshadow, beckoning him to his death.
Cometblaze sat bat into his next, ragged whiskers drooping, and ears pinned against his head. He didn't want to return to sleep, to feel that sun, to hear the voices again. So, he sat awake, distantly recalling his youthful horrors of dying of thirst. He had reigned in the fear, but in the dreams, they drug out your darkest desires and layed them out like hanks of meat. Wisps of words came from his throat, but it meant nothing to him.
He stared at an unmoving shadow, melting into the loving darkness. The comfort of just being no where, and not being needed. But his mind ranged and fluctuated to his past, the last place he wished to venture. The faces of old friends flashed across his face, and silent tears dampened his face as each one disappeared to be replaced with another. But finally it came to the last face, and when it vanished nothing returned in its place. His tears had increased, started by the terror of his dream, but fueled by the loss of all he knew. The sun was beginning to rise on the horizon, but even as his shadow had vanished he remained in one spot tears leaving damp spots on the sandy ground.
The ginger cat watched as the first warrior came out of her den to relieve those on guard duty, he followed her movements the sluggish movement of her steps, to the tired look in her eye. She seemed slightly frustrated, vexed by something that he didn't know. He ignored her, and slowly licked a paw to begin rubbing away the tear stains that were set boldly across his face.
"Cometblaze?" The rough voice, slurred by the morning made him turn, Seahawk had risen from his feather weaved bed to look at the fellow elder. The veteran looked stiff on the chilly morning, but well muscled and strong like he had been while a warrior. Seahawk ambled toward him, a stern look on his face. "Why are you crying?" He demanded, without an ounce of sympathy.
The ginger cat looked him up and down, the set shoulders and scarred face, he looked like someone who had watched another die but had no intention of revealing a single hint that he was sad. Cometblaze didn't like Seahawk, gruff and frustrated, and very jealous of anything he didn't have. He decided not to respond, the sullen cat just stared right through the bigger were with fire in his normally dull eyes. He had no right to ask question, and he wanted entitled to answers. Cometblaze switched around and sat mutely staring at the ground. His brow bunches into a scowl, he could see Seahawk's features twist in rage at the disrespect.
Seahawk shoved Cometblaze to the ground, they had been allies together, not friends, rivals at the very least. But for some reason the thin line of tolerance had finally left entirely. His big white paw jabbed the elder in the chest, one could hear the breath erupting from Cometblaze's lungs. The hard blue eyes stared into his amber ones. They looked like water, but full of hell's fires. Seahawk was in his face, his hot breath ruffling his fur. "I am tired of your angst!" He roared, "You mope and mope and do nothing but stare into shadows."
Cometblaze stared up at him, a frustrated expression going across his face as he panted to regain his breath. "Just leave me alone." He hissed, in a haunted voice, he wanted no part of Seahawk's angry games, he wanted to live until he died, and maybe he willed death to come just a little bit more sometimes. "Just leave me alone." He reiterated, his eyes hard and serious burning into the fur of his face.
The burly elder faltered, taking a wary step back. Seahawk knew this now scrawny elder, had been a superior fighter and still had the skill to take him down in just a few blows. Not willing to be humiliated or go without the last word he snarled, "Fine." He realized it was a weak retort but he remained confident in his stride as he came to the fresh kill pile.
The winner didn't seem to show excitment at his victoy, other then resting down on the mossy bed over come by sudden exhaustion. He rebelled against the need of sleep for a moment, before he sank into the warmth of friendly blackness.
The elderly cat stood, a low groan came from his parched lips. So thirsty. Behind him, Seahawk and Streampebble were silent in there warm slumber, dreams of catching mice and chasing butterflies. He wanted to hiss at their luck, their clean minds and pureness. He ambled out of the den, the sun burned his amber eyes. But the warmth upon his fur gave him a moment of escape from his constant pain. Cometblaze limped by his surprised clan mates, they weren't his clan mates, they didn't deserve to be. He wanted to spit on them, but his dry mouth wouldn't advise such a thing.
Each step jarred his bones, and even though the walk was short his paws were wary and he was wheezing through his teeth. The sun was beginning to beat on him, but the world was supposed to be cold. He looked up, the sky slate gray and somber. Cometblaze panted laborously, why was it so hot? The dryness of his tongue was getting more urgent, he could just hear the rush of water but he was beginning to drag his paws on the grass.
He could see the river now, the sun was unbearable, he hated it, for some reason the goading voices of others rung in his ears, what was this madness? The whirl of the scenary, the clash of red on the once brown trees. His breath coming faster and faster, his lungs burned violently. It all come cascading towards, the ground in its sweet embrace but his head snapped upon the dampness and he stared blindly into the world.
Cometblaze stared for a moment, but slowly his breath stilled in his chest...
The elder snapped upward in the midst of the horrible nightmare. His amber eyes were bulging like the eyes of a mouse, and his breath came in ragged gasps, what was going on? He picked him self up, shaking his thin frame a clump of old fur coming off from him. The air was cool here, and a chilly breeze entered the cozy den. A soft sigh of relief came from his lips, vigorously he licked his chops, happy to find they were moist. The dream had come to him like a foreshadow, beckoning him to his death.
Cometblaze sat bat into his next, ragged whiskers drooping, and ears pinned against his head. He didn't want to return to sleep, to feel that sun, to hear the voices again. So, he sat awake, distantly recalling his youthful horrors of dying of thirst. He had reigned in the fear, but in the dreams, they drug out your darkest desires and layed them out like hanks of meat. Wisps of words came from his throat, but it meant nothing to him.
He stared at an unmoving shadow, melting into the loving darkness. The comfort of just being no where, and not being needed. But his mind ranged and fluctuated to his past, the last place he wished to venture. The faces of old friends flashed across his face, and silent tears dampened his face as each one disappeared to be replaced with another. But finally it came to the last face, and when it vanished nothing returned in its place. His tears had increased, started by the terror of his dream, but fueled by the loss of all he knew. The sun was beginning to rise on the horizon, but even as his shadow had vanished he remained in one spot tears leaving damp spots on the sandy ground.
The ginger cat watched as the first warrior came out of her den to relieve those on guard duty, he followed her movements the sluggish movement of her steps, to the tired look in her eye. She seemed slightly frustrated, vexed by something that he didn't know. He ignored her, and slowly licked a paw to begin rubbing away the tear stains that were set boldly across his face.
"Cometblaze?" The rough voice, slurred by the morning made him turn, Seahawk had risen from his feather weaved bed to look at the fellow elder. The veteran looked stiff on the chilly morning, but well muscled and strong like he had been while a warrior. Seahawk ambled toward him, a stern look on his face. "Why are you crying?" He demanded, without an ounce of sympathy.
The ginger cat looked him up and down, the set shoulders and scarred face, he looked like someone who had watched another die but had no intention of revealing a single hint that he was sad. Cometblaze didn't like Seahawk, gruff and frustrated, and very jealous of anything he didn't have. He decided not to respond, the sullen cat just stared right through the bigger were with fire in his normally dull eyes. He had no right to ask question, and he wanted entitled to answers. Cometblaze switched around and sat mutely staring at the ground. His brow bunches into a scowl, he could see Seahawk's features twist in rage at the disrespect.
Seahawk shoved Cometblaze to the ground, they had been allies together, not friends, rivals at the very least. But for some reason the thin line of tolerance had finally left entirely. His big white paw jabbed the elder in the chest, one could hear the breath erupting from Cometblaze's lungs. The hard blue eyes stared into his amber ones. They looked like water, but full of hell's fires. Seahawk was in his face, his hot breath ruffling his fur. "I am tired of your angst!" He roared, "You mope and mope and do nothing but stare into shadows."
Cometblaze stared up at him, a frustrated expression going across his face as he panted to regain his breath. "Just leave me alone." He hissed, in a haunted voice, he wanted no part of Seahawk's angry games, he wanted to live until he died, and maybe he willed death to come just a little bit more sometimes. "Just leave me alone." He reiterated, his eyes hard and serious burning into the fur of his face.
The burly elder faltered, taking a wary step back. Seahawk knew this now scrawny elder, had been a superior fighter and still had the skill to take him down in just a few blows. Not willing to be humiliated or go without the last word he snarled, "Fine." He realized it was a weak retort but he remained confident in his stride as he came to the fresh kill pile.
The winner didn't seem to show excitment at his victoy, other then resting down on the mossy bed over come by sudden exhaustion. He rebelled against the need of sleep for a moment, before he sank into the warmth of friendly blackness.
