Post by Heron on May 4, 2015 21:58:47 GMT -5
The trees had started falling. They bent over, their crooked limbs creating obstacles for the one cat that could not stop running. If he stopped, surely his reign would be over. Inside his chest, the warrior's heart pounded as if it were trying to come alive and rip him from the inside out. "I can't do this!" He gasped, the muscles rippling beneath his white and gray spotted pelt beginning to burn each time he carried on. He had no idea why he had been running, just the unexplainable feeling that if he stopped surely something would grab hold of his neck and potentially snap it. It was a run for life or death. The trees were beginning to crumble and fall as he blurred past them, his legs carrying him like the wind. It was his calling-- it was where he had been born: WindClan. They could outrun the wind. Yet today he could hardly keep up with it, and the wind he typically ran with had been blowing done trees as if trying to set him back. One fell in front of him and he leaped into the air, but instead of landing gracefully like he should of, he spiraled and stumbled face first into the dirt. His white pelt was now smeared with the mud and dirt of his own territory, and he looked up into the sky just in time to see the trees toppling down on top of him, and something bit into the back of his neck.....
He jolted awake with a start. The warriors' den was pitch black, and for Aspenstripe, this was nothing unfamiliar. He frequently rose from dreams like so, and hardly ever slept. It had begun to take a toll on his usual sturdy, lean body. Instead, he seemed sleep deprived and rather untidy. His short white pelt was, in fact, a muted gray from his struggling and tossing while he did sleep. With quiet feet, he slipped out so as to not disturb any of the other warriors. He liked to think that they had grown use to his restlessness; and when they didn't, they were not afraid to let him know it. Sometimes he even slept outside the den, dozing off until the sun came up. Now, it was probably mid-night, and Aspenstripe let out a huge yawn as he stepped into the dark camp, illuminated only by the glow of the half-moon. It burned brightly, and the young warrior looked into the stars, twinkling brightly next to that moon. "Starclan...." he began, but could not finish. What could he say that he hadn't said before? They refused to respond time and time again. What did his dreams mean? He longed for answers, but reluctantly refused to seek guidance from the medicine cat. StarClan did not give dreams to warriors. They give dreams to medicine cats and leaders, but almost never warriors. Surely it had to be something else. The tom laid down in the dirt and rested his chin against his forepaws, amber eyes cautiously staring at the sky. He felt his body wanting relief, to sleep, but he could not bear to bring himself into another horrible dream. And to think he was scheduled for the morning patrol, too!
Word count: 545
He jolted awake with a start. The warriors' den was pitch black, and for Aspenstripe, this was nothing unfamiliar. He frequently rose from dreams like so, and hardly ever slept. It had begun to take a toll on his usual sturdy, lean body. Instead, he seemed sleep deprived and rather untidy. His short white pelt was, in fact, a muted gray from his struggling and tossing while he did sleep. With quiet feet, he slipped out so as to not disturb any of the other warriors. He liked to think that they had grown use to his restlessness; and when they didn't, they were not afraid to let him know it. Sometimes he even slept outside the den, dozing off until the sun came up. Now, it was probably mid-night, and Aspenstripe let out a huge yawn as he stepped into the dark camp, illuminated only by the glow of the half-moon. It burned brightly, and the young warrior looked into the stars, twinkling brightly next to that moon. "Starclan...." he began, but could not finish. What could he say that he hadn't said before? They refused to respond time and time again. What did his dreams mean? He longed for answers, but reluctantly refused to seek guidance from the medicine cat. StarClan did not give dreams to warriors. They give dreams to medicine cats and leaders, but almost never warriors. Surely it had to be something else. The tom laid down in the dirt and rested his chin against his forepaws, amber eyes cautiously staring at the sky. He felt his body wanting relief, to sleep, but he could not bear to bring himself into another horrible dream. And to think he was scheduled for the morning patrol, too!
Word count: 545
