Post by nightstorm on Dec 23, 2009 18:22:14 GMT -6
A wail split the air, and the gray striped tom spun around. He let out a dismayed yowl as he beheld a young cat slipping beneath the surface of the fast-paced water. Turned to stone by shock, he could only watch as the river carried her body farther and farther away, limp and motionless, her face frozen in the terror of the last moments of her life...
With a start, Swiftclaw awoke, his eyes glancing around wildly. Where am I? he thought. Then he remembered. He had fallen asleep by the old twoleg bridge, staring at the river, dark thoughts lurking in his mind. Stretching stiffly, the tom shuffled to a sitting position. His green eyes fell upon the rocks underneath the smooth surface of the river, and, unbidden, the memories rose again. Images flashed in his mind.
Two young cats, newly apprenticed, their faces registering hurt and shock, as an older tom walked away from them, his face stony...
A flash of red fur, a falling warrior, and a pang of grief so great, the young apprentice yowled for all of StarClan to hear...
The same two cats, the grey tabby beaming with pride while the other looked on, as his brother touched noses with his first apprentice...
The tabby comforting his brother, as the dark grey cat grieved for his lost mate and kit...
A young she-cat, her teeth bared and claws extended, pulling the loner away, relieving the crushing pressure that threatened to extinguish his life...
Her face, as she slipped backward into the stream, the thud of her head upon the rocks, the pain and grief he felt as she disappeared from sight...
Swiftclaw leapt to his feet, chest heaving. He glared down at the water, as if it were the source of his agony. Wasn't it? Wasn't it the same river that stole his apprentice from him? Wasn't it the one that inspired these waking nightmares?
Perhaps he was not a true RiverClan cat.
The thought made Swiftclaw freeze. His grey tabby pelt twitched as he shook himself. No. This was his home, and he belonged here, as a true RiverClan warrior. With a sigh, the tom sat down again, tail flicking listlessly, as he stared down at the cruel, uncaring waters.
With a start, Swiftclaw awoke, his eyes glancing around wildly. Where am I? he thought. Then he remembered. He had fallen asleep by the old twoleg bridge, staring at the river, dark thoughts lurking in his mind. Stretching stiffly, the tom shuffled to a sitting position. His green eyes fell upon the rocks underneath the smooth surface of the river, and, unbidden, the memories rose again. Images flashed in his mind.
Two young cats, newly apprenticed, their faces registering hurt and shock, as an older tom walked away from them, his face stony...
A flash of red fur, a falling warrior, and a pang of grief so great, the young apprentice yowled for all of StarClan to hear...
The same two cats, the grey tabby beaming with pride while the other looked on, as his brother touched noses with his first apprentice...
The tabby comforting his brother, as the dark grey cat grieved for his lost mate and kit...
A young she-cat, her teeth bared and claws extended, pulling the loner away, relieving the crushing pressure that threatened to extinguish his life...
Her face, as she slipped backward into the stream, the thud of her head upon the rocks, the pain and grief he felt as she disappeared from sight...
Swiftclaw leapt to his feet, chest heaving. He glared down at the water, as if it were the source of his agony. Wasn't it? Wasn't it the same river that stole his apprentice from him? Wasn't it the one that inspired these waking nightmares?
Perhaps he was not a true RiverClan cat.
The thought made Swiftclaw freeze. His grey tabby pelt twitched as he shook himself. No. This was his home, and he belonged here, as a true RiverClan warrior. With a sigh, the tom sat down again, tail flicking listlessly, as he stared down at the cruel, uncaring waters.