Post by Deleted on May 12, 2015 12:42:22 GMT -5
OOC: I got carried away. Also I'm tagging random people because people told me to and I can't remember who. Legit Icestorm Isilme Frost Midnight
It was a night when the voices came again, the “what ifs” constantly chirping in her mind and causing her to be unable to sleep. The voices, the annoying voices, she knew they were her own thoughts, but they never stopped telling her what to worry about, what was dangerous, and what was just not right at all. Her mind never stopped. Nothing was near perfect, and the urge always rose that she needed to fix everything until it could, so that the voices would stop and she could rest at ease.
Ease, however, did not come when it should. The more chaos that erupted around the clan, the more her nagging voices would erupt. Things she never noticed were now causing her anxiety. Worries she never had thought about would soon start to seep up from the cracks and join the others in a jumbled fray that was screeching in her mind. She could remember nothing on that one night but an overwhelming surge of fear and panic that had suddenly consumed her; like a wave of water breaking over her head and threatening to drown her in an instant. All the jumbled worries had merely pooled together, and on that very night the voices and the building weight had become too much. They had taken control of the she-cat, and sent her spiraling into fear that escalated into an illogical panic.
Soon her paws had thudded out of the camp and blindly across the hard soil floor. She hadn’t even realized she had been running, nor had she realized where she was headed. Scents, sounds, sights, all meant nothing as she was hurrying on an impossible trail to escape something she couldn’t escape from; a feeling of uncontrollable unease and fear that rarely made any sense or held any real meaning and grew ever stronger. It told her that small things were huge, and everything was a danger. Everything was to be feared. The voices were screaming at her, demanding her to pay attention to them, but she couldn’t bear to hear them all at once.
When her paws had finally stopped and she had sat down panting, her mind was confused. She had glanced around at the landmarks for a while before realizing she wasn’t in a familiar place at all. Only the smell of the soil and plants might have been the same, but the scent of other cats was nonexistent. The only logical explanation was that she had gone over the border somehow in the midst of her panic. She had crossed somewhere… but where was that? It became apparent to her now that she hadn’t even been running in a straight line. She had been veering wherever her paws would take her. She thought that maybe she could try to find her paw prints back, if she looked carefully enough.
It was in this process that she had found herself in a most unfortunate situation. While sniffing the ground, she had soon jolted at the sound of rustling in the nearby bushes. Her body had tensed and her ears alert, eyes very round and tail lowered. She couldn’t tell what she might be encountering out here in unfamiliar territory in the dark. It didn’t take long though, after seeing a pair of gleaming eyes and what appeared to be large bared fangs reveal itself in between the shadows, for the she-cat to bolt once more. Terror coursed through her veins as she raced and caused her fur to stand out in all directions. The large creature would chase her, she was sure it would chase her! She was in its territory alone, caught off guard and out of sorts, and all she could think about was once again to get away.
Clang! Suddenly she impacted head-first into something hard, and she scrambled back, recoiling from the unexpected sharp, throbbing pains around her muzzle. A shiny web stood directly in front of her and wrapped all around her in some sort of encasing. The bushes had concealed it from plain view. A loud clattering ensued as she tore to flee where she had come, but she bumped into something solid there as well. The web, it was trapping her where she stood. She bit at it, clawed at it in frantic desperation, but only resulted in a sore mouth and nearly bleeding paws. She called out for help, but then ceased after a while, afraid that something may come searching for her in her now trapped state. A single cat alone in a web, huddled in the bushes stood no chance for whatever was to approach. All night, she crouched, and feared, and waited, until the strange creatures came in the daylight: the twolegs she had so often heard of with their furless bodies and their deafening voices.
They had carried the web in their claws, and she along with it. The journey was horrible as they lurched the web around carelessly, causing her claws to slide as she scrambled to get away and to remain from impacting with the hard web sides. They had yelled and caterwauled and then finally threw down the web inside of a strange structure she assumed to be their nest, but was much too small. Not even two twolegs could fit inside at once, and the nest was old and smelled of musty wood and dampness. Along the floor and against the walls were various strange objects Mothcloud had never seen before but were long and thin, like branches, with shiny claws at the end of them. As one of the smaller twolegs opened a side of the web, she streamed out in panic. The entrance to the small cramped nest was blocked by the twolegs, and so she had dove to the nearest cover she could behind the clawed branches and large heaps that smelled like earth and dirt.
The smaller twolegs, they always tried to corner her in the trapped nest. Every sun-rise and mid-sun they would swing open the rattling entrance and fill the walls with their loud shouts. They tried to reach down at her with their claws and often shoved strange objects towards her. Containers of weird smelling food, small overflowing water basins that they would spill before even setting down. Mothcloud had no escape for cover or anywhere to run, she would hiss at them and swat, but it made no difference to the twolegs, who only cornered her more. Then, just as loud as they had come, they would disappear again, leaving her alone in the mini nest for all of the sun-high and moon-high. Some suns, they never came at all.
And so here she was, sun after sun, moon after moon, trapped in a cramped, stuffy nest filled of strange objects and the smell of strange dirt and grass. She had cried out for any cat to hear her outside the rotting wood walls, but no cat had answered. Left by herself, she had nothing but her own anxiety and fears. She had no one to even talk to, but herself. It had an impact on the already jittery she-cat, who had been raised among many cats and used to being around others. The unsettledness only grew, and often she resorted to even speaking out loud to herself, just to hear some voice in the eerie damp den full of uncomfortable scents.
It took many more suns before she could escape, and the process was slow. She had found that in a corner of the nest the wood near the ground was giving away. By gnawing on it, she could pull the old wood apart and slowly create a hole. By the time she could barely squeeze enough of herself through, she tore off into the wilderness and away from the twolegs entirely.
--
How long had passed in the nest? Suns? Moons? The dark tortoiseshell had no inclination of time or of where she was. The rest of her trip involved wandering blindly around the wilds and making nest after nest, hoping that she would somehow come across the familiar scents of her clan and home. Nest after nest, trek after trek, and still alone all that time. but now, everything seemed to change.
She could smell it.
The tortoiseshell’s ears pricked up when she had been meandering through the grass and bushes. That scent, it hit her on the breeze and brought back memories of home. Was it really real? It would not be the first time she had imagined it in a delusion.
Mothcloud took off into a barrel-run, heading straight towards the scent. It had grown stronger, stronger still until it flooded the whole air around her. Yes, there were oaks, but not like the many she had trekked around on her journeys. She could recognize these oaks, and the feel of the oak leaves underpaw was suddenly an overwhelming comfort. The she-cat shot over what was the border and then stood frozen a few tails lengths away, dwelling in the surroundings and scents. She feared that this was a dream, that she would soon wake up from once again in a dark place with the scent of no other cat but herself.
It was a night when the voices came again, the “what ifs” constantly chirping in her mind and causing her to be unable to sleep. The voices, the annoying voices, she knew they were her own thoughts, but they never stopped telling her what to worry about, what was dangerous, and what was just not right at all. Her mind never stopped. Nothing was near perfect, and the urge always rose that she needed to fix everything until it could, so that the voices would stop and she could rest at ease.
Ease, however, did not come when it should. The more chaos that erupted around the clan, the more her nagging voices would erupt. Things she never noticed were now causing her anxiety. Worries she never had thought about would soon start to seep up from the cracks and join the others in a jumbled fray that was screeching in her mind. She could remember nothing on that one night but an overwhelming surge of fear and panic that had suddenly consumed her; like a wave of water breaking over her head and threatening to drown her in an instant. All the jumbled worries had merely pooled together, and on that very night the voices and the building weight had become too much. They had taken control of the she-cat, and sent her spiraling into fear that escalated into an illogical panic.
Soon her paws had thudded out of the camp and blindly across the hard soil floor. She hadn’t even realized she had been running, nor had she realized where she was headed. Scents, sounds, sights, all meant nothing as she was hurrying on an impossible trail to escape something she couldn’t escape from; a feeling of uncontrollable unease and fear that rarely made any sense or held any real meaning and grew ever stronger. It told her that small things were huge, and everything was a danger. Everything was to be feared. The voices were screaming at her, demanding her to pay attention to them, but she couldn’t bear to hear them all at once.
When her paws had finally stopped and she had sat down panting, her mind was confused. She had glanced around at the landmarks for a while before realizing she wasn’t in a familiar place at all. Only the smell of the soil and plants might have been the same, but the scent of other cats was nonexistent. The only logical explanation was that she had gone over the border somehow in the midst of her panic. She had crossed somewhere… but where was that? It became apparent to her now that she hadn’t even been running in a straight line. She had been veering wherever her paws would take her. She thought that maybe she could try to find her paw prints back, if she looked carefully enough.
It was in this process that she had found herself in a most unfortunate situation. While sniffing the ground, she had soon jolted at the sound of rustling in the nearby bushes. Her body had tensed and her ears alert, eyes very round and tail lowered. She couldn’t tell what she might be encountering out here in unfamiliar territory in the dark. It didn’t take long though, after seeing a pair of gleaming eyes and what appeared to be large bared fangs reveal itself in between the shadows, for the she-cat to bolt once more. Terror coursed through her veins as she raced and caused her fur to stand out in all directions. The large creature would chase her, she was sure it would chase her! She was in its territory alone, caught off guard and out of sorts, and all she could think about was once again to get away.
Clang! Suddenly she impacted head-first into something hard, and she scrambled back, recoiling from the unexpected sharp, throbbing pains around her muzzle. A shiny web stood directly in front of her and wrapped all around her in some sort of encasing. The bushes had concealed it from plain view. A loud clattering ensued as she tore to flee where she had come, but she bumped into something solid there as well. The web, it was trapping her where she stood. She bit at it, clawed at it in frantic desperation, but only resulted in a sore mouth and nearly bleeding paws. She called out for help, but then ceased after a while, afraid that something may come searching for her in her now trapped state. A single cat alone in a web, huddled in the bushes stood no chance for whatever was to approach. All night, she crouched, and feared, and waited, until the strange creatures came in the daylight: the twolegs she had so often heard of with their furless bodies and their deafening voices.
They had carried the web in their claws, and she along with it. The journey was horrible as they lurched the web around carelessly, causing her claws to slide as she scrambled to get away and to remain from impacting with the hard web sides. They had yelled and caterwauled and then finally threw down the web inside of a strange structure she assumed to be their nest, but was much too small. Not even two twolegs could fit inside at once, and the nest was old and smelled of musty wood and dampness. Along the floor and against the walls were various strange objects Mothcloud had never seen before but were long and thin, like branches, with shiny claws at the end of them. As one of the smaller twolegs opened a side of the web, she streamed out in panic. The entrance to the small cramped nest was blocked by the twolegs, and so she had dove to the nearest cover she could behind the clawed branches and large heaps that smelled like earth and dirt.
The smaller twolegs, they always tried to corner her in the trapped nest. Every sun-rise and mid-sun they would swing open the rattling entrance and fill the walls with their loud shouts. They tried to reach down at her with their claws and often shoved strange objects towards her. Containers of weird smelling food, small overflowing water basins that they would spill before even setting down. Mothcloud had no escape for cover or anywhere to run, she would hiss at them and swat, but it made no difference to the twolegs, who only cornered her more. Then, just as loud as they had come, they would disappear again, leaving her alone in the mini nest for all of the sun-high and moon-high. Some suns, they never came at all.
And so here she was, sun after sun, moon after moon, trapped in a cramped, stuffy nest filled of strange objects and the smell of strange dirt and grass. She had cried out for any cat to hear her outside the rotting wood walls, but no cat had answered. Left by herself, she had nothing but her own anxiety and fears. She had no one to even talk to, but herself. It had an impact on the already jittery she-cat, who had been raised among many cats and used to being around others. The unsettledness only grew, and often she resorted to even speaking out loud to herself, just to hear some voice in the eerie damp den full of uncomfortable scents.
It took many more suns before she could escape, and the process was slow. She had found that in a corner of the nest the wood near the ground was giving away. By gnawing on it, she could pull the old wood apart and slowly create a hole. By the time she could barely squeeze enough of herself through, she tore off into the wilderness and away from the twolegs entirely.
--
How long had passed in the nest? Suns? Moons? The dark tortoiseshell had no inclination of time or of where she was. The rest of her trip involved wandering blindly around the wilds and making nest after nest, hoping that she would somehow come across the familiar scents of her clan and home. Nest after nest, trek after trek, and still alone all that time. but now, everything seemed to change.
She could smell it.
The tortoiseshell’s ears pricked up when she had been meandering through the grass and bushes. That scent, it hit her on the breeze and brought back memories of home. Was it really real? It would not be the first time she had imagined it in a delusion.
Mothcloud took off into a barrel-run, heading straight towards the scent. It had grown stronger, stronger still until it flooded the whole air around her. Yes, there were oaks, but not like the many she had trekked around on her journeys. She could recognize these oaks, and the feel of the oak leaves underpaw was suddenly an overwhelming comfort. The she-cat shot over what was the border and then stood frozen a few tails lengths away, dwelling in the surroundings and scents. She feared that this was a dream, that she would soon wake up from once again in a dark place with the scent of no other cat but herself.
