Post by Quick Fox on Jan 9, 2010 9:46:36 GMT -5
Word Count`` 438
Downy lay down in the sunshine, feeling it's light warm his fur. He'd much rather be outside that inside - what, with the warmer months ahead. At east outside, he could catch mice. Sometimes he hated it, when the snow was too high, and his owners wouldn't let him outside. He loved his life, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like... how his life would be if he lived in the forest.
He remembered the pregnant she-cat... Ravenfeather, he remembered her name being. And how she gave birth, and left to go back to her clan. She hadn't come back after that. But the stories that she told, of leaders and deputies and wondrous clans and evil cats... it was wonderful. And so perhaps that was what always kept him a little bit unhappy at the nest. He wanted to be able to dream and run with the wind in his fur. To live a wild life.
Maybe it was fascination that spurred him. He might not know. But, when he wondered about Ravenfeather, and her clan-mates, and all that he might be missing out on when he stayed here at the twoleg nest, his green eyes would look up at the sky, and at the gently rolling clouds, and he would wonder if he was meant to be here. It could have been though of missing his owners, and their soft strokes, their endless supply of food, that kept him at the nest. That, and Smoky.
He remembered when he was first here, still very young. The thoughts were fuzzy. He remembered Smoky, his only friend in the big, crazy world. He and Smoky, well, they weren't best friends. Maybe Smoky wouldn't even call Downy a friend. The cat was always nasty, being rude to Ravenfeather and other cats. Nevertheless, even if he was nasty and rude, Downy still considered him a friend. It could have been because he barely knew any other cats.
It was then, after thinking, and laying in the sun with the slight breeze tousling his fur, that he made up his mind to ask Smoky. He went inside, where the angry cat would probably be getting up, and searched around. Finally find the angry tom, he trotted over.
"Smoky, I've been thinking... do you remember Ravenfeather? She was the clan cat who always came here. Have you ever considered finding out what she was talking about? With Shadowclan and Fireclan and all of the other? Have you ever been curious about that life? Because, though I love having food and affection, sometimes it's boring here. I feel like my life needs more adventure. And Smoky, don't you think that the forest would be the perfect place to go?" he wondered aloud. He thought again, and decided - no matter what Smoky said, he would investigate later.
Downy lay down in the sunshine, feeling it's light warm his fur. He'd much rather be outside that inside - what, with the warmer months ahead. At east outside, he could catch mice. Sometimes he hated it, when the snow was too high, and his owners wouldn't let him outside. He loved his life, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like... how his life would be if he lived in the forest.
He remembered the pregnant she-cat... Ravenfeather, he remembered her name being. And how she gave birth, and left to go back to her clan. She hadn't come back after that. But the stories that she told, of leaders and deputies and wondrous clans and evil cats... it was wonderful. And so perhaps that was what always kept him a little bit unhappy at the nest. He wanted to be able to dream and run with the wind in his fur. To live a wild life.
Maybe it was fascination that spurred him. He might not know. But, when he wondered about Ravenfeather, and her clan-mates, and all that he might be missing out on when he stayed here at the twoleg nest, his green eyes would look up at the sky, and at the gently rolling clouds, and he would wonder if he was meant to be here. It could have been though of missing his owners, and their soft strokes, their endless supply of food, that kept him at the nest. That, and Smoky.
He remembered when he was first here, still very young. The thoughts were fuzzy. He remembered Smoky, his only friend in the big, crazy world. He and Smoky, well, they weren't best friends. Maybe Smoky wouldn't even call Downy a friend. The cat was always nasty, being rude to Ravenfeather and other cats. Nevertheless, even if he was nasty and rude, Downy still considered him a friend. It could have been because he barely knew any other cats.
It was then, after thinking, and laying in the sun with the slight breeze tousling his fur, that he made up his mind to ask Smoky. He went inside, where the angry cat would probably be getting up, and searched around. Finally find the angry tom, he trotted over.
"Smoky, I've been thinking... do you remember Ravenfeather? She was the clan cat who always came here. Have you ever considered finding out what she was talking about? With Shadowclan and Fireclan and all of the other? Have you ever been curious about that life? Because, though I love having food and affection, sometimes it's boring here. I feel like my life needs more adventure. And Smoky, don't you think that the forest would be the perfect place to go?" he wondered aloud. He thought again, and decided - no matter what Smoky said, he would investigate later.
