Post by Cx Sunny~ on Oct 3, 2009 14:37:25 GMT -5
Kit;; Patchstar the weary
Words;; 592
Notes;; I needs a new table since Patchstar is now Patchface ;3 I'm returning him to Thunderclan but I'm shoving him in with the elders, if that's ok. A patrol can find him if you want.
Music;; None right now. ;o
Patchface opened his eyes. Above him, a shining green canopy of trees, wet with dew. Below him, moss and dirt, the base of one of the old twoleg paths.
He tried to stand. Something was burning like fire in his left shoulder. Something had happened, he struggled to remember.
Then, he noticed something which made him freeze with shock. There was dust on his long, patched coat. Dust, that was thick over him just like the rest of the path. It made him wonder seriously how long he had been in that spot.
And right he was to. He slowly began to remember what had happened to him.
"You've had it, Foxdung!"
Patchstar started as the voice he had heard half a moon ago rang in his head as clear as it might have been the day before.
"You can't dare to steal from Thunderclan territory!" Patchstar yowled.
"Watch me." Snarled the Fireclan tom, taking a bite out of the vole he had just caught.
Patchstar hissed loudly and leapt full on at the tom. There was a flurry of fur and claws as they struggled together on the path that seperated the abandoned twoleg nests from the rest of Thunderclan. Patchstar pushed his claws towards the tom and raked them down his belly, wounding him slightly. The tom, a large, muscular, white and black cat with evil-looking yellow eyes, returned to blow to Patchstar's shoulder before also hitting a blow underneath him.
Patchstar used the last of his strength to jab his claws into the enemy and pull them down as far as his energy would let him.
The Tom was dead. But so was Patchstar.
As Patchface remembered the blow he'd taken to his belly, the pain flooded back too. He bit back a hiss and tried to stand again. He'd been here for almost half a moon, recovering from the loss of at least three lives that the tom had caused him. Dust had gathered, dews had fallen and dried. The dew had fallen into his open mouth, keeping him clinging to his last couple of lives. Patchface succeeded in standing, but immeadietly decided it would be best to sit again and wash himself - he was filthy.
In between licks, he paused for thought.
Thunderclan might've appointed a new leader while I was gone.
He rasped his tongue over his aching shoulder, from which the pain was slowly ebbing away now.
I wonder if the tom was a sign from Starclan, telling me to stand down?
He cleaned the dried blood from around his pelt.
They might be angry with me. Or, they may be protecting me from a fate similar to the other now-dead leaders. After all, they didn't let that Tom kill me.
He stood up and tasted the air.
I should go back to camp. It's time for me to join the elders. I almost let the tom beat me, anyway. I've made all the descisions for the clan as I need to make in my time. There's probably a new leader, anyway.
Patchface could taste the scent of a mouse. He crept up and pounced on it, wincing at the pain it caused him. He did succeed in catching it, however, and he ate it all, hungrily, before feeling decidedly better. He decided to sit and wait; for either his strength or a dawn patrol would find him eventually, he knew.
Words;; 592
Notes;; I needs a new table since Patchstar is now Patchface ;3 I'm returning him to Thunderclan but I'm shoving him in with the elders, if that's ok. A patrol can find him if you want.
Music;; None right now. ;o
Patchface opened his eyes. Above him, a shining green canopy of trees, wet with dew. Below him, moss and dirt, the base of one of the old twoleg paths.
He tried to stand. Something was burning like fire in his left shoulder. Something had happened, he struggled to remember.
Then, he noticed something which made him freeze with shock. There was dust on his long, patched coat. Dust, that was thick over him just like the rest of the path. It made him wonder seriously how long he had been in that spot.
And right he was to. He slowly began to remember what had happened to him.
"You've had it, Foxdung!"
Patchstar started as the voice he had heard half a moon ago rang in his head as clear as it might have been the day before.
"You can't dare to steal from Thunderclan territory!" Patchstar yowled.
"Watch me." Snarled the Fireclan tom, taking a bite out of the vole he had just caught.
Patchstar hissed loudly and leapt full on at the tom. There was a flurry of fur and claws as they struggled together on the path that seperated the abandoned twoleg nests from the rest of Thunderclan. Patchstar pushed his claws towards the tom and raked them down his belly, wounding him slightly. The tom, a large, muscular, white and black cat with evil-looking yellow eyes, returned to blow to Patchstar's shoulder before also hitting a blow underneath him.
Patchstar used the last of his strength to jab his claws into the enemy and pull them down as far as his energy would let him.
The Tom was dead. But so was Patchstar.
As Patchface remembered the blow he'd taken to his belly, the pain flooded back too. He bit back a hiss and tried to stand again. He'd been here for almost half a moon, recovering from the loss of at least three lives that the tom had caused him. Dust had gathered, dews had fallen and dried. The dew had fallen into his open mouth, keeping him clinging to his last couple of lives. Patchface succeeded in standing, but immeadietly decided it would be best to sit again and wash himself - he was filthy.
In between licks, he paused for thought.
Thunderclan might've appointed a new leader while I was gone.
He rasped his tongue over his aching shoulder, from which the pain was slowly ebbing away now.
I wonder if the tom was a sign from Starclan, telling me to stand down?
He cleaned the dried blood from around his pelt.
They might be angry with me. Or, they may be protecting me from a fate similar to the other now-dead leaders. After all, they didn't let that Tom kill me.
He stood up and tasted the air.
I should go back to camp. It's time for me to join the elders. I almost let the tom beat me, anyway. I've made all the descisions for the clan as I need to make in my time. There's probably a new leader, anyway.
Patchface could taste the scent of a mouse. He crept up and pounced on it, wincing at the pain it caused him. He did succeed in catching it, however, and he ate it all, hungrily, before feeling decidedly better. He decided to sit and wait; for either his strength or a dawn patrol would find him eventually, he knew.
