Post by cloud on Mar 1, 2010 16:47:05 GMT -6
Snaketooth shrank into one of the shadowy crevasses. It was dark in here – damp, cool. Snaketooth liked it better when it was dark, just because the sun wasn’t around to hurt his eyes. And in the dark, one’s mind could create things. A tiny drop of water could be the pattering of a mouse, even. Snaketooth’s neck jerked, as his eye twitched. Anything was anything, anyone was anyone?
Who am I in this cave?
He contemplated the stony silence, the smooth rocks beneath his feet, the way his nails slid across the surface. He could be a snake himself, coiling around prey, squeezing the air out of its lungs... Moving with deadly actions across any surface, without paws to ache. No paws would complain to him. He hated paws complaining, when they ached and pulsed. Lazy paws...
Lazy paws...
If his paws decided to stop working for him he’d be very upset. He’d have to be nice to his paws or they’d get mad. Angry paws... So that was why he was treating them now, to the cool stones. He was supposed to be hunting. He may as well. There’d probably be quite a bit of prey rustling around. You know, gotta bring home prey for the Clan. They’d sure like it, wouldn’t they, the gluttons? Oh, no, most were very selfless. He was being mean. His paws were rubbing off on him.
Snaketooth scampered out into the sunlight, hackles still twitching, making his body jerk about. Ooh, how he’d love to be a flea! So small, not a care in the world. Nestling into fur and drinking, eating, all he wanted. And if he desired, he could hop off the cat and onto another. Start all over. Do it all again. Wouldn’t that be nice? But he wasn’t a snake or a flea. He was a cat, Oh, more than a cat, really. He was more than what met the eye, he hoped so, at least. His paws weren’t telling him off as he trotted along gingerly. He realized that even after crouching in the darkness he was still so small....
You’re Snaketooth, silly! Silly, silly Snaketooth...
Who am I in this cave?
He contemplated the stony silence, the smooth rocks beneath his feet, the way his nails slid across the surface. He could be a snake himself, coiling around prey, squeezing the air out of its lungs... Moving with deadly actions across any surface, without paws to ache. No paws would complain to him. He hated paws complaining, when they ached and pulsed. Lazy paws...
Lazy paws...
If his paws decided to stop working for him he’d be very upset. He’d have to be nice to his paws or they’d get mad. Angry paws... So that was why he was treating them now, to the cool stones. He was supposed to be hunting. He may as well. There’d probably be quite a bit of prey rustling around. You know, gotta bring home prey for the Clan. They’d sure like it, wouldn’t they, the gluttons? Oh, no, most were very selfless. He was being mean. His paws were rubbing off on him.
Snaketooth scampered out into the sunlight, hackles still twitching, making his body jerk about. Ooh, how he’d love to be a flea! So small, not a care in the world. Nestling into fur and drinking, eating, all he wanted. And if he desired, he could hop off the cat and onto another. Start all over. Do it all again. Wouldn’t that be nice? But he wasn’t a snake or a flea. He was a cat, Oh, more than a cat, really. He was more than what met the eye, he hoped so, at least. His paws weren’t telling him off as he trotted along gingerly. He realized that even after crouching in the darkness he was still so small....
You’re Snaketooth, silly! Silly, silly Snaketooth...