Post by Shadewing on May 20, 2009 19:38:56 GMT -5
Sandfire:
[atrb=border,0,true][cs=7][bg=000000] ...SEEN
You'll never stop me you know it's everything to me.
We'll never stop cuz we're only getting better,
We're not making this up so just write another letter,
I'll be fine.Word Count: 800-something
Cat: Drydusk the Leader
Notes: I was trying to hit 1K words but whatever I need to post this x__x
The cold rain had stopped. A dark figure stood outside camp, watching the frozen water slowly move on in it's path. Watching the skies clear to a blue sky, with a warming sun. All ready did it sink towards the horizon, casting long shadows that made the ground look like a tabby. The shadow did not move, perhaps to go unnoticed except for a single ear flick and two constantly moving and searching blue eyes. It was nearly time for something completely and utterly inspiring. The shadow moved, shuffling to it's feet, showing the lump of fur was a small cat. Slowly did the warrior make tiny pawsteps inside the reeds to a clearing of hard dirt and tree roots.
Lifting his head, his gray pelt was ruffled by the wind. He stood at the camp entrance, staring around his camp, deathly silent as the blue sky slowly turned darker and darker, turning into dusk. His dusk. His clan. His paws itched, his blue eyes wide, as he waited for his courage to just show up at his paws- it was as if he thought prey would just lop up to his paws and ask to be killed. He swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat which nagged at him like a hairball. His tail quivered, out behind him, nearly touching the dusty ground. It was an impowering moment, as he waited for the cats of his clan to start getting ready for the journey... The one that he would lead. To the Fourtrees. So he could stand next to the leaders of the other clans. Representing his clan.
He had thought out what he would say. He would merely state that Crowstar was unable to come- and only if they asked. He would say that otherwise his clan was doing well, despite the harsh winter. No need for the other clans to hear about the sickness. Even though, he heard, that Windclan was also having troubles. And perhaps Blackpaw was the cause... He shuddered, his fur standing on end for a moment before he forced himself to relax. He was a leader, if only for a day. This was his moment, his clan, his life. Excitement filled his paws.
But he had to act cool, right. His mentor, Nightshade, would be watching him. Obviously. Did Crowstar really think that he deserved to be in charge instead of his mentor? Was he really that smart and good? His heart beat quickened. He was sure, though, that this was merely a test. Nothing else... After all, why would it be? He was too young to be a deputy, much less a real Leader. He still had something to be proud of- he had broke away from his brother in their race, taking huge strides ahead. He shivered, his blue eyes shining, his pelt cleaned. He was ready for what was coming.
Drydusk knew what was coming. The marsh let way to the gray thunderpath, and with the roar of the monsters and bright, glowing yellow eyes watching them, they would diver under the tunnels and travel through the darkness, tail to shoulder, one by one. The rumble above would scare the younger clanmates, while the others knew there was nothing to fear. They would come on the other side, and race across the grasslands, on the edge of the thick Thunderclan- perhaps only a few foxlengths, until they would read the clearing. There, in the center, would there be more scents than one could smell at once, and four towering brown legs that led to the very Starclan themselves.
The Great Rock would stand there, and four pelt- no, three pelts now would stand there, there eyes on his clan. And he would lead his clan to them, and leap up on the rock himself, and nod to each of them. And his clan would watch him and be proud, as he called out to all the clans, snapping up their attention. He would adress all of the clans, for his. For Crowstar. For his sick clanmates.
Clearing his throat, a soft rumbling sound his neck that was nearly a purr, his claws dug into the soft ground, and his jaw opened, a voice came forth, echoing around his clan in such a tone that showed his pride and excitement, "Fellow clanmates! It is time to head out for the Gathering!" His pelt quivered, and his lips pulled back into a toothy grin, his scars from the battle at windclan tinting a light pink that was dull against his coat- which in contrast glowed from the setting sun's brilliant rays. His blue eyes shined light a clear sky's day, glittering with the light that slowly was fading away. "Dustpaw," he meowed, calling for his apprentice. She would be beside him the whole way there, and he knew she would be as excited as he was.
He never forgot his first trip to the Gathering, after all.
