Sydney's Short Stories

[Sydney]

OOC;;; Sydney has decided this is where she's going to keep all the short stories/drabbles/one-shots/etc she writes about her cats and stuff. 8U

Inspiration hit, what can I say.

Once Upon a Time...
a story about ospreyfang

Once upon a time, there lived a strange little tom named Ospreyfang.

Loud, jumpy, this tom always took to the back and tended to be ignored by most other cats.

He lived every day in one corner of his camp, muttering and talking to himself, living a sad lonely life.

But, if you would believe me, I can tell you, Ospreyfang was normal once.

And during these days, he was truly happy.

Of course, he can't remember that time in his life very well but, he does remember what made him happy.

He does remember her.

She was white, like the clouds, with little patches of orange, black, and every shade in-between pressed on her fur. And her eyes, oh her eyes, they were as golden as the sun, so much more pretty then his own milky eyes.

She was as beautiful as both the sun and the moon, he can remember that clearly.

Even if he can't remember other things very clearly, he can always recall her.

Spottedflower.

She was going to have his kits, he can remember.

Tawnykit if they had a girl and Smokekit if they had a boy, he can remember.

Oh, he can remember...

”Ospreyfang, we're going to have kits!”

And when he does, sometimes its the only time his paranoia of death ever falls away.

”I love you, Ospreyfang, so very very much.”

Sometimes, when he remembers, he wishes StarClan will just finally take him, instead of leaving him to wonder when they will strike.

To wonder who they'll take next.

”I'm dying, Ospreyfang.”

To wonder which loved one will leave him next.

”I love you Ospreyfang, I still do.”

Once upon a time there lived a little tom named Ospreyfang.

He was loud, jumpy and very strange.

And Lonely.

FIN

[Sydney]

OOC;;; This is a story Spike wrote about Thymepaw. x3 She gave me permission to post it so, here it is. C: I thought you guys might get a kick out of reading it too, like I did.

Thymepaw's Tale
a story about Thymepaw, written and copyrighted to Spike o3o

“Oh, you can… sit on the sidelines, Thymekit,” Mousekit said with a small grin. They were pretty different in age. Mousekit was almost at her third moon while Thymekit was ready to earn his apprenticeship. The white and tabby tom tilted his head with confusion but allowed one ear to fall downheartedly.

“But I wanna play mossball,” he whined.

The other kits looked at one another with their faces clearly showing dislike for the situation. Nobody wanted Thymekit on their team! Thymekit was basically the worst player of mossball in all of the Clan’s history. Any elder would be better than Thymekit. Some of the others motioned to Mousekit and she had to snort at them with a small flash of teeth.

“Look, Thymekit, you can be on my team,” she relented. “But try to follow the rules, okay?” The older kit beamed with glee and leapt to his paws. That leap was misplaced, however, and both paws slid out from under him. The group of kits winced together as his chin connected with the ground under him. “Figures,” the tiny kit murmured.

“Mousekit, be nice,” her father, Tigertail, growled. He moved over and placed Thymekit back on his paws before sitting back to watch once more. The queens were all gossiping, pointing out their litters to show off and laughing any time the kits made an adorable mistake. Thymekit’s mistakes, however, were pure clumsiness rather than mistakes.

The game began with Redkit taking the mossball and darting for the elder’s den, the scoring den. Mousekit bounded after him with her eyes narrowed against the wind. “I got it, I got it!” Thymekit suddenly cried however. The tiny tabby skidded to a halt and blinked in shock as the tom bounded after Redkit.

“What are you doing?!” she shrieked. But it was too late by that point. Thymekit leapt for Redkit only for his back legs to slip from under him. He yelped and went skidding across the slick dirt straight into Finchstep. The she-cat squealed and rattled on in her strange talk which was enough distraction for Redkit to dart into the elders den where he proceeded to drop the mossball and shout out with joy.

Mousekit frowned and grumbled about the loss while Thymekit was thoroughly scolded by Tigertail about watching where he was going. “I can say this right now,” Redkit snickered as he passed Mousekit. “He isn’t ever going to be a warrior!”

~~

“That’s it, come on,” the mentor encouraged the apprentice. In the corner, Smokepaw and Mousepaw were talking quietly, both seemingly bored by the situation. Thymepaw was waggling his rear in the air, tongue clasped between his teeth in concentration. The pink tip was dangling out the side of his mouth and when that was paired with his narrowed eyes, he was quite the sight to see.

“I’m getting it,” he mewed. Smokepaw rolled his eyes at that and nudged Mousepaw with a bit of laughter in his eyes. Both obviously doubted the older apprentice.

“Come on,” Tigertail growled. “You gotta do this, Thymepaw!” The tom finished his little act with a wag of his behind. Then he shouted out as if charging into battle.

The poor leaf didn’t stand a chance! His paws landed on it but he picked it up like a kit would and returned it to Tigertail. “I got it!” he cried.

The warrior sighed and shook his head. “No, no, Thymepaw, you didn’t do it right. Hold on.” He sighed and walked the leaf back to where it originally was. On his way back, Mousepaw brushed her muzzle against her father’s coat. He seemed to laugh just a slight but then he was back to his serious features.

“Tigertail, can’t we just… go hunting, or something?” Smokepaw finally asked. “I’m getting bored and maybe… maybe it’d be good for Thymepaw.” Mousepaw nudged his shoulder and hissed under her breath. But Tigertail was smiling already.

“Good idea,” he sighed. “Mousepaw, Smokepaw, you two can go with Thymepaw and catch some prey. Okay? Return to camp before dusk and you should all be okay. Thymepaw, this should be easy, okay? Just catch a rabbit or two and maybe we can skip hunting practice tomorrow.” Thymepaw gave a lop-sided grin and bobbed his head comically. Mousepaw narrowed her eyes on Smokepaw at that.

“You had to speak up, didn’t you?” she snarled.

“Did you want to continue sitting around here waiting for him to tear up that leaf or would you rather at least hunt?” the gray tom inquired hotly. Both shook their heads but eventually they were on their paws, ready to go.

“I say Outlook Rock,” Thymepaw offered.

“You say that because there are a bunch of bugs there,” Mousepaw grumbled. But since there were no other offers, she gave in and motioned for the group to follow. Smallnose, Rowanclaw, and Tigertail said their farewells before making their way to camp.

“I once saw this green bug,” the oldest apprentice mewed. “Oh, it was great! It had six legs- no, it had five. One was cut off or something. It had wings and it liked to eat-.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Thymepaw,” Smokepaw laughed tautly. “Why won’t we talk about prey, hm? Prey is good to eat. Done talking. Now, why don’t you take Outlook Rock and Mousepaw and I will… go… towards… the other way or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll do that,” Mousepaw agreed hastily. She practically pushed Smokepaw in the opposite direction before diving into the golden grasses. Thymepaw just tilted his head and then shrugged off the sudden disappearance of the fellow apprentices. He turned for Outlook Rock and he didn’t even bother scenting the air for rabbits. His only concern was the tiny bugs crawling around the rock.

“Hello, yellow-one,” he purred as he crouched to greet the tiny, scrambling yellow bug. It flicked its antenna before crawling under the shadow of a leaf. ‘Wait, don’t go,” Thymepaw laughed while scrambling after it. The bug calmly just opened its wings, see-through membranes colored more like brown rather than yellow as its body was, and took for the air.

“No!” Thymepaw cried and leapt into the air to stop its flight. The bug easily dodged the paw and it fluttered into the deep blue of the sky. But Thymepaw wasn’t so lucky. He landed and tried running after it only for his eyes to miss the nest in front of him. His body seemed to suspend in the air for a mere moment before he was suddenly being thrown into the darkness of the nest. He didn’t get a chance to cry out as his body hit the walls roughly. Friction stopped his tumble, however, and he was sitting in a large cavern in a daze. Dark, beady eyes stared at him and yet in his moment of confusion, he did not notice it.

“Oh, boy,” he groaned while climbing to his paws. A shake of the head cleared him of the dizziness. There was a shuffling of paws and Thymepaw looked up swiftly to see the dark eyes. Several eyes of them all intent on him.


~~

Mousepaw had one small rabbit in her mouth but it was young, not much of a catch. Smokepaw had a couple of rabbits that were impressive but overall it was only a fair hunt. That was until they hurt the cry of Thymepaw. Naturally, both looked at each other before taking off for the sound. Thymepaw was nowhere to be found until he burst out of a rabbit’s nest. Six or seven rabbits flowed out after him, the scent of fear radiating off of them.

“I can’t say which is worse,” Smokepaw sighed as he dropped his prey. “The rabbits’ poor choice of a den or Thymepaw’s fright of just some rabbits.” Mousepaw laughed before taking off after the wave of running rabbits. Smokepaw, on the other side of things, went after the trembling mass that was Thymepaw.

“BADGER!” he yowled out. “BADGER WAS AFTER ME!”

“They were rabbits, mouse-brain,” Smokepaw grumbled. “Come on, get up. You can take my two rabbits and we’ll say you caught them.”

“What?” Thymepaw whimpered.

“I’m not letting your mentor- Mousepaw’s dad- know that you were scared of a bunch of rabbits,” the younger apprentice said. “Now get up and go pick up my two rabbits, you coward.”

“You know, it was that yellow bug-,” he began.

“I said, go pick up my two rabbits,” Smokepaw insisted strictly. There was a moment of stiffness but both parted their own ways.

~~

“Wow,” Featherkit murmured. “You were scared of rabbits and yet you were made a warrior?”

“You wanted to know what to do when you were a warrior, didn’t you?” the elderly Thymeclaw asked. “Well, I just hope you don’t do that. Trust me, if you fall into a nest, test the air or something.”

“Right,” the kit murmured sarcastically. “I’m not sure it’s hard for us to be better than you. No offense, Thymeclaw. You really are the worst warrior that ever lived.”

“You weren’t the only cat to say that,” Thymeclaw grumbled.

“And I won’t be the last,” Featherkit snickered. The pretty little grayish kit batted her paw against Thymeclaw’s nose. The elder wrinkled his nose and suddenly sneezed loudly. Featherkit yelped and was thrown back by its force.

“Well, I’m the best sneezer,” he laughed while sniffling.

“Thymeclaw, as much as I love coming to you for stories,” Featherkit growled, “I have to say this much. You are going to go down in history as what not to be. Nobody will forget you, that’s for sure.”

“Not the way I thought I’d go down in history,” Thymeclaw laughed. “But at least I will go down in history.”