Post by Galaxy on Dec 19, 2014 23:14:06 GMT -6
Winter. It seemed ages away when he was just a young cat venturing forth onto Deathclan territory for the first time, eager and curious of what the strange land would bring him. He charged forth on confident paws, ready to explore the area of the forest that held all sorts of nasty rumors that he couldn't wait to experience. Quite luckily, he didn't meet a hostile cat in his entrance into hostile territory, and eventually found himself a decent living corner where none of the previous Deathclanners had claimed.
Galaxy still brooded for the days when he was one of the Elite, a group of talented cats chosen by Drought to serve the Deathclan leader. He didn't find the actual serving as exciting as the rank, though. It felt powerful to know that his status was with one of the highest there could be back then, and he liked to show off his rank as if it were a vicious scar from a famous battle - no, it was even greater than that.
But Galaxy was gullible. He let his guard down in a battle against Treeclan and, although they won, Drought deemed him unworthy to remain as an Elite and they battled. Though the blue-furred tom was quite the formidable foe, he lost against the Drought and was kicked out of the Elite group. Both literally and metaphorically.
The brittle snow crunched annoyingly under Galaxy's paws as he strolled near the river banks. It was in a semi-freezing state. Thin ice blanketed the river surface, but underneath he saw the still-liquid water churning and tossing at the flimsy film. There was no sign of any fish, so the tom reasoned that they might be hibernating as some animals do, or perhaps behaved more like certain types of birds and migrated to a warmer spring somewhere far. Galaxy didn't like winter. In fact, he despised it even more than he hated the clan cats. Since Deathclan was pretty much barren at this time of the year, a silence always coated the place, one that Galaxy found slightly eerie since he wasn't used to the absence of birdsong. Prey was increasingly scarce, and sometimes he went for days without seeing another living creature.
And then there was the cold. The chilly air nipped annoyingly at his exposed ear tips, and made every breath come out as a cloudy mas that limited his vision. The frigid air froze his limbs and numbed his tail and whiskers. As he shivered, Galaxy began to admire the long fur of some cats he met months ago. It would be useful in winter, where everything was cold.
In irritation he kicked the snow with hind legs, watching in satisfaction as the white stuff was launched into the air. It sailed a foot away before splatting on a tree trunk and crashing into a frozen bush, murdering the silence. He was about to kick again when his ears picked up something amiss and he stood up, scanning the clearing. His hackles rose as he thought of the potential dangers of the newcomer. Could it be...? He sniffed at the air, only to get a noseful of pain from the chilly air. But his intuition reasoned him and his fur smoothed down again. No it isn't.
Galaxy eyed the tree for another few seconds. Sensing that the cat didn't wanted to reveal itself just yet, he took a deep breath and replied with a gust of clouded air. "I know your hiding behind the tree. Come out, I won't bite."
( 591 words!)
Galaxy still brooded for the days when he was one of the Elite, a group of talented cats chosen by Drought to serve the Deathclan leader. He didn't find the actual serving as exciting as the rank, though. It felt powerful to know that his status was with one of the highest there could be back then, and he liked to show off his rank as if it were a vicious scar from a famous battle - no, it was even greater than that.
But Galaxy was gullible. He let his guard down in a battle against Treeclan and, although they won, Drought deemed him unworthy to remain as an Elite and they battled. Though the blue-furred tom was quite the formidable foe, he lost against the Drought and was kicked out of the Elite group. Both literally and metaphorically.
The brittle snow crunched annoyingly under Galaxy's paws as he strolled near the river banks. It was in a semi-freezing state. Thin ice blanketed the river surface, but underneath he saw the still-liquid water churning and tossing at the flimsy film. There was no sign of any fish, so the tom reasoned that they might be hibernating as some animals do, or perhaps behaved more like certain types of birds and migrated to a warmer spring somewhere far. Galaxy didn't like winter. In fact, he despised it even more than he hated the clan cats. Since Deathclan was pretty much barren at this time of the year, a silence always coated the place, one that Galaxy found slightly eerie since he wasn't used to the absence of birdsong. Prey was increasingly scarce, and sometimes he went for days without seeing another living creature.
And then there was the cold. The chilly air nipped annoyingly at his exposed ear tips, and made every breath come out as a cloudy mas that limited his vision. The frigid air froze his limbs and numbed his tail and whiskers. As he shivered, Galaxy began to admire the long fur of some cats he met months ago. It would be useful in winter, where everything was cold.
In irritation he kicked the snow with hind legs, watching in satisfaction as the white stuff was launched into the air. It sailed a foot away before splatting on a tree trunk and crashing into a frozen bush, murdering the silence. He was about to kick again when his ears picked up something amiss and he stood up, scanning the clearing. His hackles rose as he thought of the potential dangers of the newcomer. Could it be...? He sniffed at the air, only to get a noseful of pain from the chilly air. But his intuition reasoned him and his fur smoothed down again. No it isn't.
Galaxy eyed the tree for another few seconds. Sensing that the cat didn't wanted to reveal itself just yet, he took a deep breath and replied with a gust of clouded air. "I know your hiding behind the tree. Come out, I won't bite."
( 591 words!)
