Post by Winter on Apr 8, 2008 11:29:34 GMT -5
Name: Drizzlestar
Age: 30 moons
Gender: She-Cat
Clan: ThunderClan
Position: Leader
Exterior description: Drizzlesong is a medium-sized Bengal she-cat with quite a conspicuous besprinkled coat, resembling the one of her mother. She often appears small but has hidden muscles beneath her pelt. Her fur owns little and hardily visible tangerine pimples, as well as pitch-black stains, the ones that usually blend with her preeminent auricomous white base, turning to a blanched dye. She may hereafter be uniform to a begrimed caliginous cougar with only one stygian umbrage in her Bengal slough; it recurrently coincides with a russian blue crust. She has voluminous shoulders that may look nodular and tenacious, but they just bunch up with her lustrous delineation to make her look skinner with a thick pelt. At first appearance, Drizzlesong is slim with oddly proportioned legs and bedraggled, paltry botched wool. However, she is hardly any of those things except slim. Her shoulders may also have a brittle, steep slope to them - not too ample and not too gaunt. She has gratifying paws that are ensconced with a scanted heather girdle. She has a vigorous corporeal morphology with a scabrous complexity. Despite so, she has a sleek and lean body with a couple of muscles eventually mounting by her midriff. Her jacket doesn't retain many flourishes or tinges but it has luxury and splendor of its own. Once the sun's or moon's beacons cast over his murky pelage, it scintillates with such mirth, and yet such mourn, the loath his jacket concedes is neglected. Haggard speckles run down her spine, usually camouflaging with the rest of her jacket. Her whiskers are entangled, useful for sensing prey or danger nearby. This she-cat also has blemishes of cinnamon, dark mahogany and oyster covering all of her keister, including her underbelly. Her hues are squalid, and lake-colored; which seem to be alert. Her nose area is more of an auburn color, but her nose color is more of a worn pink. Drizzlesong’s tail is enduring and gossamer, and seems to pursue behind like an eerie black ghost. She has sustained legs; her prolonged tail can also gracefully quaver in rhythm with her march, but also faintly resembles that of an otter. At its tip, there’s a dash of peach and white, her smudges usually crystallizing whirls that extend to her back.
Because of the enchantment that protrudes from her slough and her distinctable frame, many toms like him, making her popular between the other genders. Her luxurious body also makes her a flawless and transcendent leader, especially during hunting and quarrelling. This she-cat also possesses a hirsute mane that surrounds her angular face. Waxen fangs curve down her slanted jaw. Above them, an ivory stain bulges its way by his flush muzzle, beleaguering most of his nose trills. Drizzlesong carries herself in a sort of confident swagger. She always has a look of pride and a puzzling mysterious-ness to her expression. She always walks in a stride, showing her dominants by the way she careens her head and regally sits down with her tail curled neatly over her paws. Overall, she’s quite a beautiful she-cat. Drizzlesong owns translucent golden eyes, the ones that may sometimes reveal her feelings.
Interior description: Drizzle... The definition of such parole is ‘to rain gently and steadily in fine drops’. This adage is used when an austere rain is about to begin. Its also bestowed as a warning; ‘it began to drizzle, if we don’t go soon, we’ll get soaked’. Soaked in water. But this nomenclature is not utilized as a sorrowful term. In Drizzlesong’s case, however, it is a mourning. A bawling. A kibosh. A jinx. A curse. Star is a vague perception of this she-cat’s character. Her original warrior name was Drizzletear. Froststar, ThunderClan’s leader, was planning to call her Drizzlebreeze. But he retrieved a sign from StarClan that made him change his mind. The ThunderClanners redeemed this eponym, Drizzletear, with mirth and glee because of the relish it sounded; but Drizzletear was the only one able to truly perceive its meaning. The tears she has shed have been so many, they ripened into squirts that diminish from her heart. They have never ceased; despite the euphoria or enchantment she can feel. But even so, she’s strong enough to coerce a clan but fearful to proceed with her deceit.
Drizzlesong is an 'abysmal' thinker and can become heathened when she scrutinizes the shallow girdle of even the smallest mysteries. Her appearance made her a trenchant warrior and one of the ThunderClan's leader favorite. She is often chosen for baton of hunting patrols, a task that usually dredges the bloated opinion she had of herself. That used to be something charitable or hellish, for it disregards her hideous past but made her boost around the other ThunderClanners, sporadically becoming a nuisance. However, this she-cat could also become charming and delightful when she wants to, especially when he can gain personal commissions. A squat seam enveloped the sorrow of her heart but does not completely hide it, something he doesn't want either. But it does protect her from not being the extrovert and jaunty cat she's always been and keeps being. Because toms tended to like her so much, Drizzletear always become tender and benevolent with them, but not to much, only to brag her beauty. Pride and disdain are characteristics that will never abolished from this cougar, but they are also one of the sorceries she grasps. Thought it is complicated to perceive it, this she-cat is mentally acute and shrewd, more than most ThunderClanners, which was one of the reasons she was chosen to become deputy, and later, leader. She's lived and has experienced 'chattels' only a loner would have experienced and such profile beget a transcendent warrior. Drizzlesong was cursed to suffer a gruesome past that once blocked his many talents. One of the biggest characteristics about this warrior is that he was able to survive after his grieve to become a distinguished she-cat. After she became deputy, however, her personality changed drastically. As a typical ThunderClanner, the warrior code was no descriptive for her. But, once she ripened into a deputy, she began to follow the convention and learned it by heart. Despite her persnickety rule assumption, she knows that rules don’t make up a good warrior, or deputy, in her case. As a kit, she was quite feisty and jaunty, always eager to carouse and reconnoiter. She was recurrently goofing around with her fellow kit friends and sometimes got carried away. But she scantily enshrines her old dynamism. It comprehensively metamorphosed into an obstinate, cantankerous, and snappish one. Drizzlesong can occasionally have a spoiled judgment and a wicked temperament when somebody messes up with her or dares to argue with her decisions. In spite of this, she may also brandish a positive demeanor: she believes loyalty and trust are the most important characteristics a cat can have. Depending on the matter, she can be very easy to talk to, and would listen to all sides of an argument before determining a last perception of a problem. Drizzlesong's mind transacts and does its best to conceive her adjudications justice. Her mind always seems to be forecasting behind her eyes since she loathes surprises, especially when they come from ThunderClan. During a battle, this she-cat would be on the front lines, willing to give her live for her clan. Drizzlesong’s countenance brandishes conviction and reliance, which is another positive endowment of this leader. She has never been dependant on somebody, with the fear of growing to close to a cat. But, because of this essential, her demureness has never been loosened. That, however, is inconsequential, when her other aptnesses and flairs are envisaged.
Drizzlesong’s bearing reflects her delusive personality that consists in her attempt to become intimidating and daunting so her biggest tremor of being rejected is never accomplished. Of course, now that she is ThunderClan’s deputy, no cat in his right mind would hazard his throat to do it. Never less, this feline has a pristine heart that avoids aspersion and dishonesty; such makes every ThunderClanner trust every word she speaks for she is constantly unable to lie. Despite all this, Drizzlesong has always symbolized fate, hope, love, and beauty in her clan and constantly outstands in gatherings because of her intelligence but as well, because of her every-day deceit.
History: Drizzlesong was not clan born. She was born to a loner mother and a father she never knew. She had a twin sibling named Python. Both of them were very fraternal and benign which each other and subsequently bestowed each other's contemplations. Despite their exuberance, a cataclysm betided. Fifth teen months after they were born, their mother died of black cough. Piddling and cognizant, the two kits were left alone in the fleeting and freezing forest they lived in. Without another substitute, they established to take care of them selves by catechizing each other anything they knew. Moons later, they were already reinforced and robusted enough to move from their birth place, the hinter land, to a true home. They initiated an enlongated odyssay, facing peril, menaces, and precariousness, encroaching and interloping Twoleg nests and monsters, even badger homes. During the vagabondage, the both siblings became every time more cleaved and attached to each other, not bearing or confronting the idea of dichotomizing. But in the way, Python met a appealing and beaoteous kittypet called Pearl and fell deeply in love. Sheelah, his allegiant sister, didn’t dare to relinquish her brother so easily, but after perceiving how blissful he was, she decided to proceed in the journey. And moons later, she had his similar luck.
Sheelah was walking past a waterfall and met the most handsome tom she had ever seen, sitting in a rock grooming his ginger pelt. As she approached to meet him, a she-cat almost as beautiful as her blocked her way. Despite their rough beginning, they soon became friends; Sheelah later found out Venom, her new friend, was Viper’s best friend, who was the tom she cherished. The three of them became excellent friends and incredibly united on the first weeks they lived together near the waterfall. But, inside this relationship, a new one was molding. Sheelah and Viper became every time more fraternal with each other and soon, shared a mutual love. As time passed, they became mates. Venom always displayed her best demeanor in front of the couple, but always felt jealous for the newest member of the gang. One dark evening, Sheelah gave birth to a small and adorable kitten who looked just like Viper but had Sheelah’s eyes. They named him Keane. As they spent quality time with their son, Venom was planning a plot to separate the happy couple. Another dim midnight, she brought hideous news to them, saying she had seen visions of terrible calamities. The two cats trusted Venom with their lives, so, six months after Keane’s birth, they left their refuge, willing to find another place where to live.
As they journeyed, Sheelah discovered a special ability in her son; he was able to predict the future. He often had glimpses of what would happen; every time Viper went out hunting, he told Sheelah what Viper would bring. He told Sheelah stories about the new place they would go, the ones he always described with passion and excitement. He always described a hinter land with loads of snow and a hot cave. But he’d abruptly stop in the middle of a sentence, saying that something horrible would happen in midnight.
Sheelah cherished her creature and thought that would make him a perfect loner like his parents. But when Venom spoke with Keane’s parents, the kit would start hissing, something that slightly concerned Sheelah and Viper. Time proceeded, days and moons passed. When Keane was eight moons old, their parents finally found a proper place for him to grow up. They took four moons to properly adjust to their new environment. But things didn’t go nicely on their fifth moon. Keane just became thirteen moons old and their parents couldn’t have been more thrilled. In spite of their blissness, the kit remained with a miserable attitude. The same day, at midnight, Sheelah, Viper, and Keane went to bed. While they were all fast asleep, a noise woke Sheelah up. Instinctively, she embraced Keane. When the noise ceased, she pretended to go back to sleep. But heart beats later, it proceeded. Keane was tight in her paws. A drop of blood rolled down her claws with the mightiness she pressed Keane’s body with her own. But as it rolled, she saw a dash of golden pelt running past her. It tackled her from behind.
Sheelah did not loosen her grasp on Keane and tried to attack the creature again but failed. The sound woke Viper out. When the creature noticed, it attacked with even more dislike. Viper ordered Sheelah to run away, something Sheelah couldn’t hesitate on doing, for Keane’s sake. She ran, and ran, but halted once a piercing yowl stomped in the night. Sheelah wanted to return but retreated, thinking in Keane. As she continued running, she heard the creature was nearing them. Blood was on its claws; it was a cat and it had killed Viper. Sheelah controlled her rage, thinking in Keane. But the creature did not give her a chance. Sheelah couldn’t avoid her anymore and fought. They fought to death but on the way, Sheelah ‘s heart was teamed in pieces. The creature had been Venom. Sheelah showed her astonishment, while Venom just gleamed in joy and satisfactation. During the quarrel, Venom slashed Sheelah in her breast, leaving her out of the fight. She ran away with Keane but couldn’t last long; Venom caught her and, in front of her, slaughtered her son. Venom didn’t have to finish with Sheelah; she fainted when she saw her son being murdered. When she woke up, her kit wasn’t there. But her injuries were healed. She was in a soft nest that was surrounded by cats.
Sheelah was stunned and when she was about to run away, a kind she-cat who made herself call, Foxtail explained what had happened. She also explained where she was; the forest of the four clans. This was what they called… ThunderClan. She explained the job of a warrior; fight, hunt, and protect their clan. After a brief tour with the clan’s medicine cat, she discovered fate had given her a gift; Python was living with his owners on a barn near the clans. The Two Legs were willing to accept Sheelah in their home, but, however, she denied, and decided to join the clans. Moons passed and Sheelah’s name changed to Drizzletear. She was never granted the name of Drizzlepaw; she was trained with her name of warrior. She became ThunderClan’s deputy after harsh training. But her past still burdens her heart.
A memory:
The tom felt all of his senses going numb as he stared into the deep and gruesome pair of scarlet eyes. He backened away slightly for he was too frightened to move properly. The couple of revolting beams narrowed as the ocelot flinched and the skin that surrounded them clasped together as the cougar grinned in satisfaction. Her mouth began to move but the tom was too terrified to understand what the femcat was saying. Only muffled sneers pierced inside his ears, overwhelming him in panic. The heinous creature aroused her glinting claws over his throat, which twinkled ominously as they tried to commit murder. The shadows that receded over the two cats began to relinquish them and their frames were transpicuous. The tom was a tiny kitten, in contrast with the other, who was ten times bigger.
The she-cat was about to unleash the power within his hidden weapons when a cry drilled in the clearing. The bellow contained anguish and pain that the other two hadn't experienced. It was the scream of death. As it rebounded in the place, the small kit was able to recognize who it was from. 'Father!' he blared, remembering the tight situation he had last seen her father on. Venom, his parent’s ‘best friend’ had kidnapped him and taken him to a desolated area. He had been trying to find them ever since but his attempt was hopeless, for he was in the rogue's wrath. The rogue neglected her yelp and congealed her grasp. The kitten fought with all his might to flee; despite the fact that he knew it was inutile. He was going to die, just like her father had, and probably his mother as well, and there wouldn't be a soul on the planet who would remember him.
As the tom perished, a hyaline lynx made his way into the fissure. Her determination and endurance was reflected in his bearing. Noticing how the rogue was slaughtering her son, she boldly tackled the creature. The small kit witnessed how his mother fought with the other but heard few. His heart was beating fast, her tremor was inundating his body, and his legs were fluttering so violently they clashed with each other. His breathing came out in rasping noises that were concealed by the sound emitting from the quarrel between the two other felines. Dread began edging in the corners of his mind when things weren't visible. But then, darkness engulfed the inkling as he fell to the ground, dead.
Raw terror furnished inside shimmering auburn pools as the tom Keane's eyes flew open. His pelt was fluffed up in an abnormal way that even his strong tongue couldn’t groom. His legs were trembling and her eyes were rapidly blinking, adjusting to the new light. It had been a dream, only a dream. Not, it had been more than a dream. I had been a nightmare. Dreams were supposed to show the reality you desired with all your heart to achieve. But that was the reality Keane had been trying to escape from. That’s the definition of a nightmare and they had been recently taunting the young tom, leaving him no way of escaping. There were several reasons that Keane speculated he was having them. Maybe her training and her approach of becoming a warrior had triggered some feelings inside her. Yes, that must have been it. The stress of an apprentice and the abominable emotion you felt once you were becoming a warrior. The anxiety, the excitement… That was hideous. And Keane felt that way. Or it was just the fact that he dreamt things like that all the time.
Even with that feeling on his heart, it made her wonder what had brought his into the abysmal fawn in the forest. After an exhausting hunting patrol, he found herself collapsing on the floor. He couldn’t recall anymore memories. How long had he slept? Had it been hours or days? Months or years? Maybe decades or centuries… No, that was impossible. He would have died of starvation. Thought maybe, after all he had eaten that afternoon, maybe he could be full enough to hibernate. But cats couldn’t hibernate… Right? Thinking about this absurd subject, Keane stood up and scrutinized what beleaguered him. He had fallen asleep on an alluring place but hadn’t had enough time to contemplate its beauty. He felt grateful for sleeping in this area but kept wondering what period was it. He glared at the thick vines besieging his paws and at the flourishing blossoms protruding from the trees. They were tufted with a thin layer of snow, showing spring was coming. So technically, it was still winter. So Keane hadn’t slept for years. Sighing in regret, the puerile apprentice proceeded on his journey and leapt outside from the garden. Shooting it one last grimace, he grinned and marched away.
Keane gleefully walked her way back home. Thinking in stuff like that made her forget what was always on her mind. I began this day by waking up on the burrow with my mommy… She gave me something to eat, then my dad came and told me to go out to prove what he had taught me… I saw Venom… For two seconds… Maybe less… Two milliseconds, yes, that’s more like it. Then, when she saw I was nibbling on the rabbit my mother had given me, she commented at how cute I was but I just snorted… I mean, how more pathetic can she possibly be? She’s patheticer than humans jumping off a cliff. Well, Twolegs were nuts enough to do it anyway… Patheticer… Does that word exist? No it can’t… It doesn’t sound good… Well if it did, there must be something patheticer humans could do… Oh I know! I bet humans would---- A noise disturbed Keane’s thoughts. The tom got startled by it and twitched in surprise. She turned around to catch a glimpse of a patch of ivory white pelt. It was perfectly camouflaging in the snow but the malachite shrews were giving away her position. Her tawny eyes were growing from one of his extremity, while his other extremity was extensive and appealing. He instantly knew who he was. ‘Mom!’ Keane exclaimed and ran towards her, not aware of what his mom was doing.
Other: [x][x][x][x][x]
Hey, nice site
Age: 30 moons
Gender: She-Cat
Clan: ThunderClan
Position: Leader
Exterior description: Drizzlesong is a medium-sized Bengal she-cat with quite a conspicuous besprinkled coat, resembling the one of her mother. She often appears small but has hidden muscles beneath her pelt. Her fur owns little and hardily visible tangerine pimples, as well as pitch-black stains, the ones that usually blend with her preeminent auricomous white base, turning to a blanched dye. She may hereafter be uniform to a begrimed caliginous cougar with only one stygian umbrage in her Bengal slough; it recurrently coincides with a russian blue crust. She has voluminous shoulders that may look nodular and tenacious, but they just bunch up with her lustrous delineation to make her look skinner with a thick pelt. At first appearance, Drizzlesong is slim with oddly proportioned legs and bedraggled, paltry botched wool. However, she is hardly any of those things except slim. Her shoulders may also have a brittle, steep slope to them - not too ample and not too gaunt. She has gratifying paws that are ensconced with a scanted heather girdle. She has a vigorous corporeal morphology with a scabrous complexity. Despite so, she has a sleek and lean body with a couple of muscles eventually mounting by her midriff. Her jacket doesn't retain many flourishes or tinges but it has luxury and splendor of its own. Once the sun's or moon's beacons cast over his murky pelage, it scintillates with such mirth, and yet such mourn, the loath his jacket concedes is neglected. Haggard speckles run down her spine, usually camouflaging with the rest of her jacket. Her whiskers are entangled, useful for sensing prey or danger nearby. This she-cat also has blemishes of cinnamon, dark mahogany and oyster covering all of her keister, including her underbelly. Her hues are squalid, and lake-colored; which seem to be alert. Her nose area is more of an auburn color, but her nose color is more of a worn pink. Drizzlesong’s tail is enduring and gossamer, and seems to pursue behind like an eerie black ghost. She has sustained legs; her prolonged tail can also gracefully quaver in rhythm with her march, but also faintly resembles that of an otter. At its tip, there’s a dash of peach and white, her smudges usually crystallizing whirls that extend to her back.
Because of the enchantment that protrudes from her slough and her distinctable frame, many toms like him, making her popular between the other genders. Her luxurious body also makes her a flawless and transcendent leader, especially during hunting and quarrelling. This she-cat also possesses a hirsute mane that surrounds her angular face. Waxen fangs curve down her slanted jaw. Above them, an ivory stain bulges its way by his flush muzzle, beleaguering most of his nose trills. Drizzlesong carries herself in a sort of confident swagger. She always has a look of pride and a puzzling mysterious-ness to her expression. She always walks in a stride, showing her dominants by the way she careens her head and regally sits down with her tail curled neatly over her paws. Overall, she’s quite a beautiful she-cat. Drizzlesong owns translucent golden eyes, the ones that may sometimes reveal her feelings.
Interior description: Drizzle... The definition of such parole is ‘to rain gently and steadily in fine drops’. This adage is used when an austere rain is about to begin. Its also bestowed as a warning; ‘it began to drizzle, if we don’t go soon, we’ll get soaked’. Soaked in water. But this nomenclature is not utilized as a sorrowful term. In Drizzlesong’s case, however, it is a mourning. A bawling. A kibosh. A jinx. A curse. Star is a vague perception of this she-cat’s character. Her original warrior name was Drizzletear. Froststar, ThunderClan’s leader, was planning to call her Drizzlebreeze. But he retrieved a sign from StarClan that made him change his mind. The ThunderClanners redeemed this eponym, Drizzletear, with mirth and glee because of the relish it sounded; but Drizzletear was the only one able to truly perceive its meaning. The tears she has shed have been so many, they ripened into squirts that diminish from her heart. They have never ceased; despite the euphoria or enchantment she can feel. But even so, she’s strong enough to coerce a clan but fearful to proceed with her deceit.
Drizzlesong is an 'abysmal' thinker and can become heathened when she scrutinizes the shallow girdle of even the smallest mysteries. Her appearance made her a trenchant warrior and one of the ThunderClan's leader favorite. She is often chosen for baton of hunting patrols, a task that usually dredges the bloated opinion she had of herself. That used to be something charitable or hellish, for it disregards her hideous past but made her boost around the other ThunderClanners, sporadically becoming a nuisance. However, this she-cat could also become charming and delightful when she wants to, especially when he can gain personal commissions. A squat seam enveloped the sorrow of her heart but does not completely hide it, something he doesn't want either. But it does protect her from not being the extrovert and jaunty cat she's always been and keeps being. Because toms tended to like her so much, Drizzletear always become tender and benevolent with them, but not to much, only to brag her beauty. Pride and disdain are characteristics that will never abolished from this cougar, but they are also one of the sorceries she grasps. Thought it is complicated to perceive it, this she-cat is mentally acute and shrewd, more than most ThunderClanners, which was one of the reasons she was chosen to become deputy, and later, leader. She's lived and has experienced 'chattels' only a loner would have experienced and such profile beget a transcendent warrior. Drizzlesong was cursed to suffer a gruesome past that once blocked his many talents. One of the biggest characteristics about this warrior is that he was able to survive after his grieve to become a distinguished she-cat. After she became deputy, however, her personality changed drastically. As a typical ThunderClanner, the warrior code was no descriptive for her. But, once she ripened into a deputy, she began to follow the convention and learned it by heart. Despite her persnickety rule assumption, she knows that rules don’t make up a good warrior, or deputy, in her case. As a kit, she was quite feisty and jaunty, always eager to carouse and reconnoiter. She was recurrently goofing around with her fellow kit friends and sometimes got carried away. But she scantily enshrines her old dynamism. It comprehensively metamorphosed into an obstinate, cantankerous, and snappish one. Drizzlesong can occasionally have a spoiled judgment and a wicked temperament when somebody messes up with her or dares to argue with her decisions. In spite of this, she may also brandish a positive demeanor: she believes loyalty and trust are the most important characteristics a cat can have. Depending on the matter, she can be very easy to talk to, and would listen to all sides of an argument before determining a last perception of a problem. Drizzlesong's mind transacts and does its best to conceive her adjudications justice. Her mind always seems to be forecasting behind her eyes since she loathes surprises, especially when they come from ThunderClan. During a battle, this she-cat would be on the front lines, willing to give her live for her clan. Drizzlesong’s countenance brandishes conviction and reliance, which is another positive endowment of this leader. She has never been dependant on somebody, with the fear of growing to close to a cat. But, because of this essential, her demureness has never been loosened. That, however, is inconsequential, when her other aptnesses and flairs are envisaged.
Drizzlesong’s bearing reflects her delusive personality that consists in her attempt to become intimidating and daunting so her biggest tremor of being rejected is never accomplished. Of course, now that she is ThunderClan’s deputy, no cat in his right mind would hazard his throat to do it. Never less, this feline has a pristine heart that avoids aspersion and dishonesty; such makes every ThunderClanner trust every word she speaks for she is constantly unable to lie. Despite all this, Drizzlesong has always symbolized fate, hope, love, and beauty in her clan and constantly outstands in gatherings because of her intelligence but as well, because of her every-day deceit.
History: Drizzlesong was not clan born. She was born to a loner mother and a father she never knew. She had a twin sibling named Python. Both of them were very fraternal and benign which each other and subsequently bestowed each other's contemplations. Despite their exuberance, a cataclysm betided. Fifth teen months after they were born, their mother died of black cough. Piddling and cognizant, the two kits were left alone in the fleeting and freezing forest they lived in. Without another substitute, they established to take care of them selves by catechizing each other anything they knew. Moons later, they were already reinforced and robusted enough to move from their birth place, the hinter land, to a true home. They initiated an enlongated odyssay, facing peril, menaces, and precariousness, encroaching and interloping Twoleg nests and monsters, even badger homes. During the vagabondage, the both siblings became every time more cleaved and attached to each other, not bearing or confronting the idea of dichotomizing. But in the way, Python met a appealing and beaoteous kittypet called Pearl and fell deeply in love. Sheelah, his allegiant sister, didn’t dare to relinquish her brother so easily, but after perceiving how blissful he was, she decided to proceed in the journey. And moons later, she had his similar luck.
Sheelah was walking past a waterfall and met the most handsome tom she had ever seen, sitting in a rock grooming his ginger pelt. As she approached to meet him, a she-cat almost as beautiful as her blocked her way. Despite their rough beginning, they soon became friends; Sheelah later found out Venom, her new friend, was Viper’s best friend, who was the tom she cherished. The three of them became excellent friends and incredibly united on the first weeks they lived together near the waterfall. But, inside this relationship, a new one was molding. Sheelah and Viper became every time more fraternal with each other and soon, shared a mutual love. As time passed, they became mates. Venom always displayed her best demeanor in front of the couple, but always felt jealous for the newest member of the gang. One dark evening, Sheelah gave birth to a small and adorable kitten who looked just like Viper but had Sheelah’s eyes. They named him Keane. As they spent quality time with their son, Venom was planning a plot to separate the happy couple. Another dim midnight, she brought hideous news to them, saying she had seen visions of terrible calamities. The two cats trusted Venom with their lives, so, six months after Keane’s birth, they left their refuge, willing to find another place where to live.
As they journeyed, Sheelah discovered a special ability in her son; he was able to predict the future. He often had glimpses of what would happen; every time Viper went out hunting, he told Sheelah what Viper would bring. He told Sheelah stories about the new place they would go, the ones he always described with passion and excitement. He always described a hinter land with loads of snow and a hot cave. But he’d abruptly stop in the middle of a sentence, saying that something horrible would happen in midnight.
Sheelah cherished her creature and thought that would make him a perfect loner like his parents. But when Venom spoke with Keane’s parents, the kit would start hissing, something that slightly concerned Sheelah and Viper. Time proceeded, days and moons passed. When Keane was eight moons old, their parents finally found a proper place for him to grow up. They took four moons to properly adjust to their new environment. But things didn’t go nicely on their fifth moon. Keane just became thirteen moons old and their parents couldn’t have been more thrilled. In spite of their blissness, the kit remained with a miserable attitude. The same day, at midnight, Sheelah, Viper, and Keane went to bed. While they were all fast asleep, a noise woke Sheelah up. Instinctively, she embraced Keane. When the noise ceased, she pretended to go back to sleep. But heart beats later, it proceeded. Keane was tight in her paws. A drop of blood rolled down her claws with the mightiness she pressed Keane’s body with her own. But as it rolled, she saw a dash of golden pelt running past her. It tackled her from behind.
Sheelah did not loosen her grasp on Keane and tried to attack the creature again but failed. The sound woke Viper out. When the creature noticed, it attacked with even more dislike. Viper ordered Sheelah to run away, something Sheelah couldn’t hesitate on doing, for Keane’s sake. She ran, and ran, but halted once a piercing yowl stomped in the night. Sheelah wanted to return but retreated, thinking in Keane. As she continued running, she heard the creature was nearing them. Blood was on its claws; it was a cat and it had killed Viper. Sheelah controlled her rage, thinking in Keane. But the creature did not give her a chance. Sheelah couldn’t avoid her anymore and fought. They fought to death but on the way, Sheelah ‘s heart was teamed in pieces. The creature had been Venom. Sheelah showed her astonishment, while Venom just gleamed in joy and satisfactation. During the quarrel, Venom slashed Sheelah in her breast, leaving her out of the fight. She ran away with Keane but couldn’t last long; Venom caught her and, in front of her, slaughtered her son. Venom didn’t have to finish with Sheelah; she fainted when she saw her son being murdered. When she woke up, her kit wasn’t there. But her injuries were healed. She was in a soft nest that was surrounded by cats.
Sheelah was stunned and when she was about to run away, a kind she-cat who made herself call, Foxtail explained what had happened. She also explained where she was; the forest of the four clans. This was what they called… ThunderClan. She explained the job of a warrior; fight, hunt, and protect their clan. After a brief tour with the clan’s medicine cat, she discovered fate had given her a gift; Python was living with his owners on a barn near the clans. The Two Legs were willing to accept Sheelah in their home, but, however, she denied, and decided to join the clans. Moons passed and Sheelah’s name changed to Drizzletear. She was never granted the name of Drizzlepaw; she was trained with her name of warrior. She became ThunderClan’s deputy after harsh training. But her past still burdens her heart.
A memory:
The tom felt all of his senses going numb as he stared into the deep and gruesome pair of scarlet eyes. He backened away slightly for he was too frightened to move properly. The couple of revolting beams narrowed as the ocelot flinched and the skin that surrounded them clasped together as the cougar grinned in satisfaction. Her mouth began to move but the tom was too terrified to understand what the femcat was saying. Only muffled sneers pierced inside his ears, overwhelming him in panic. The heinous creature aroused her glinting claws over his throat, which twinkled ominously as they tried to commit murder. The shadows that receded over the two cats began to relinquish them and their frames were transpicuous. The tom was a tiny kitten, in contrast with the other, who was ten times bigger.
The she-cat was about to unleash the power within his hidden weapons when a cry drilled in the clearing. The bellow contained anguish and pain that the other two hadn't experienced. It was the scream of death. As it rebounded in the place, the small kit was able to recognize who it was from. 'Father!' he blared, remembering the tight situation he had last seen her father on. Venom, his parent’s ‘best friend’ had kidnapped him and taken him to a desolated area. He had been trying to find them ever since but his attempt was hopeless, for he was in the rogue's wrath. The rogue neglected her yelp and congealed her grasp. The kitten fought with all his might to flee; despite the fact that he knew it was inutile. He was going to die, just like her father had, and probably his mother as well, and there wouldn't be a soul on the planet who would remember him.
As the tom perished, a hyaline lynx made his way into the fissure. Her determination and endurance was reflected in his bearing. Noticing how the rogue was slaughtering her son, she boldly tackled the creature. The small kit witnessed how his mother fought with the other but heard few. His heart was beating fast, her tremor was inundating his body, and his legs were fluttering so violently they clashed with each other. His breathing came out in rasping noises that were concealed by the sound emitting from the quarrel between the two other felines. Dread began edging in the corners of his mind when things weren't visible. But then, darkness engulfed the inkling as he fell to the ground, dead.
Raw terror furnished inside shimmering auburn pools as the tom Keane's eyes flew open. His pelt was fluffed up in an abnormal way that even his strong tongue couldn’t groom. His legs were trembling and her eyes were rapidly blinking, adjusting to the new light. It had been a dream, only a dream. Not, it had been more than a dream. I had been a nightmare. Dreams were supposed to show the reality you desired with all your heart to achieve. But that was the reality Keane had been trying to escape from. That’s the definition of a nightmare and they had been recently taunting the young tom, leaving him no way of escaping. There were several reasons that Keane speculated he was having them. Maybe her training and her approach of becoming a warrior had triggered some feelings inside her. Yes, that must have been it. The stress of an apprentice and the abominable emotion you felt once you were becoming a warrior. The anxiety, the excitement… That was hideous. And Keane felt that way. Or it was just the fact that he dreamt things like that all the time.
Even with that feeling on his heart, it made her wonder what had brought his into the abysmal fawn in the forest. After an exhausting hunting patrol, he found herself collapsing on the floor. He couldn’t recall anymore memories. How long had he slept? Had it been hours or days? Months or years? Maybe decades or centuries… No, that was impossible. He would have died of starvation. Thought maybe, after all he had eaten that afternoon, maybe he could be full enough to hibernate. But cats couldn’t hibernate… Right? Thinking about this absurd subject, Keane stood up and scrutinized what beleaguered him. He had fallen asleep on an alluring place but hadn’t had enough time to contemplate its beauty. He felt grateful for sleeping in this area but kept wondering what period was it. He glared at the thick vines besieging his paws and at the flourishing blossoms protruding from the trees. They were tufted with a thin layer of snow, showing spring was coming. So technically, it was still winter. So Keane hadn’t slept for years. Sighing in regret, the puerile apprentice proceeded on his journey and leapt outside from the garden. Shooting it one last grimace, he grinned and marched away.
Keane gleefully walked her way back home. Thinking in stuff like that made her forget what was always on her mind. I began this day by waking up on the burrow with my mommy… She gave me something to eat, then my dad came and told me to go out to prove what he had taught me… I saw Venom… For two seconds… Maybe less… Two milliseconds, yes, that’s more like it. Then, when she saw I was nibbling on the rabbit my mother had given me, she commented at how cute I was but I just snorted… I mean, how more pathetic can she possibly be? She’s patheticer than humans jumping off a cliff. Well, Twolegs were nuts enough to do it anyway… Patheticer… Does that word exist? No it can’t… It doesn’t sound good… Well if it did, there must be something patheticer humans could do… Oh I know! I bet humans would---- A noise disturbed Keane’s thoughts. The tom got startled by it and twitched in surprise. She turned around to catch a glimpse of a patch of ivory white pelt. It was perfectly camouflaging in the snow but the malachite shrews were giving away her position. Her tawny eyes were growing from one of his extremity, while his other extremity was extensive and appealing. He instantly knew who he was. ‘Mom!’ Keane exclaimed and ran towards her, not aware of what his mom was doing.
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