Post by Ki on Jan 7, 2010 15:46:07 GMT -6
Duskkit let out a startled mew and scrambled over to her sister. It seemed like an invisible rope connected the two. Wherever Tawnykit went, Duskkit was limping along after. Suddenly a scent hit her nose. A new one. Her fur automatically bristled in fear, thinking Alfa had come back. But then, it became slightly familiar...
WindClan.
The kit reluctantly moved away from her sister and limped past the loners. She saw the cat now, and heard it speak! A she-cat! Duskkit let out a mew of happiness and began to limp towards her, huffing and puffing. She had to take deep breaths, which in turn hurt her ribs. What a sight she must have been! A young kit, a little older than four moons, bloody and brusied. She was limping, and whenever took too deep of a breath she'd wince and let out a tiny yowl of pain. (But that sounded more like a squeak than anything else.) Duskkit hadn't even reached the warrior and she was tired. She looked pitifully up at the warrior. Her coat dark with blood, one of her back legs held up so she wouldn't put pressure on it, fighting not to pant. All of the kit's energy was sapped. That sparkling innocence, that sweet smile all kits seem to have...it wasn't anywhere. All that was in Duskkit's eyes was pain, sadness, and heart-clenching fear.
"Fa...ther...took...us..." the kit was out of breath. She had about as much energy left as Tawnykit. Her three good legs were shaking. "We...we want...we want our mommy!" Duskkit looked back at her sister and the loners. She didn't appear afraid of them, which seemed enough of a giveaway that they weren't the problem. The kit wanted to go back to her sister's side, but she just was too tired. Her paws felt like rocks, her blood thick as syrup. She allowed herself to lay down, her ears back. It was still hard to believe that she was alive after what he'd put her and her sister through..
WindClan.
The kit reluctantly moved away from her sister and limped past the loners. She saw the cat now, and heard it speak! A she-cat! Duskkit let out a mew of happiness and began to limp towards her, huffing and puffing. She had to take deep breaths, which in turn hurt her ribs. What a sight she must have been! A young kit, a little older than four moons, bloody and brusied. She was limping, and whenever took too deep of a breath she'd wince and let out a tiny yowl of pain. (But that sounded more like a squeak than anything else.) Duskkit hadn't even reached the warrior and she was tired. She looked pitifully up at the warrior. Her coat dark with blood, one of her back legs held up so she wouldn't put pressure on it, fighting not to pant. All of the kit's energy was sapped. That sparkling innocence, that sweet smile all kits seem to have...it wasn't anywhere. All that was in Duskkit's eyes was pain, sadness, and heart-clenching fear.
"Fa...ther...took...us..." the kit was out of breath. She had about as much energy left as Tawnykit. Her three good legs were shaking. "We...we want...we want our mommy!" Duskkit looked back at her sister and the loners. She didn't appear afraid of them, which seemed enough of a giveaway that they weren't the problem. The kit wanted to go back to her sister's side, but she just was too tired. Her paws felt like rocks, her blood thick as syrup. She allowed herself to lay down, her ears back. It was still hard to believe that she was alive after what he'd put her and her sister through..