Post by Midnight on Jun 28, 2015 18:46:32 GMT -5
The first prize winner is nomstar!
The second prize winner is Babylonranger!
The third prize winner is @pawsfun!
I'm adding the leaves to their accounts right now, and the winners should PM me about their other prizes.
Moorea blearily blinked open her eyes. Outside an icy wind howled like it had for the past five or six months. The whole town had been engulfed in a constant blizzard, severing contact with the outside world and spreading sickness faster than the ice would freeze over water. She rolled out of bed, shivering in the freezing air. Quickly she changed into her warmest clothes before walking into the kitchen. Moorea was filling the kettle with water when her father came in. He worked at the weather station in the north of town. Once upon a time it had been the least important job in town, now it was incredibly important as they had to try and figure out where the snow was coming from and when it would stop. Soon food would run out and people would begin to starve. He smiled at her.
“Hey honey, I’ve gotta go into work early today. Mark reckons that he has found a break in the weather. We might even be able to send out a truck for more supplies”. Mark was her father’s colleague, one of the six other men working in his office.
He was about to leave when she asked, “How’s Mama?” A strange sickness had been tearing throughout the population, people were starting to call it the Winter’s Curse. Several people had died from it already and her mother had recently began to show symptoms.
“She isn’t feeling well. Can you stay inside today and look after her? I’m going to take Milo into work with me to keep him out of the way”. Milo was her twelve year-old brother. She nodded and continued to make herself a cup of tea. The slam of a door signaled her father leaving. She wandered down the house towards her parents room. Moorea peeped inside the darkened room and then stepped slowly in. She could hear her mother’s ragged breathing and see her dark brown hair, just visible above the covers. Suddenly everything went quiet. “Mama? Are you okay? Do you need anything...” She crept closer to the bed, anxious as to what she would find. Her mother wasn’t moving. Perfectly still. Icy cold. Horrified, Moorea ran to the phone, remembering just in time that the phone lines were out. She grabbed her thickest coat and burst out into the cold. Shad to find help. Just then she heard a familiar voice.
“Hey Moorea! Where are you going?” She looked up to see her friend Teddy running up to her. She stumbled over to him, numb with fear, glad of his warm embrace.
“M-Mama’s dead,” she breathed out so quietly. It couldn’t be true. but deep down Moorea knew that it was true. The hard truth. She felt Teddy tightened his hold on her.
Finally he whispered, “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do now?” She didn’t answer for a moment, unsure of what to say. What am I going to to? Where can I go? When she did reply, it was in a low murmur.
“I need to get away. I can’t face the truth. I-it’s just so hard to face... I really can’t believe it”. She felt tears begin to run down her face and onto her soft coat. A warm hand wiped them away and onto the frozen ground.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said encouragingly, “let’s go for a walk. Just promise me that you won’t worry. We will sort this out”. They began to walk down the abandoned street, hand in hand.
Later that day the wind died down for the first time in weeks. Two figures stood atop a hill, gazing down at the view below. Insignificant in a world of white. Teddy brought something out of his pocket and presented it to Moorea.
“I saw this the other day and I thought that you would like it”. Nestled in his hand was a clear amber gem, about the size of an egg, but perfect and round. She looked down at it, transfixed by the beauty of it.
“I-I love it,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, “it is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. She took it from him, feeling its warmth. Suddenly, it began to glow. Moorea almost dropped it in surprise and her hair began to glow golden, whipped up as if a hard wind were blowing the thick locks. Her eyes grew brighter and more green, her lips becoming red and her skin rosy. Teddy was staring at her feet where the snow was melting away to reveal small green sprigs of grass and tiny daisies. Moorea looked at Teddy in fear.
“What’s happening to me?” She asked, frightened at what the answer would be. The stone was still nestled in her hands, it’s warmth spreading throughout her body and out into the air. Her thick coats began to turn green and thinner until they unfurled into huge leaves, revealing a pure white dress hung loosely upon her. She looked up at her friend.
“What should I do? I don’t feel the cold any more... What’s happened to me?” She felt the fresh grass and soft earth on her bare feet. It was a beautiful feeling.
“I always knew that you were special. Why don’t you just go with the flow and see where it takes you?”. He stretched open his arms and nodded.
“Teddy...” She flung herself at him and hugged him with a new brightness that she hadn’t felt for many a long month. They held it there for a few moments before breaking away.
“Goodbye Summer” whispered Teddy. He turned around and walked away towards the town. Moorea watched him go. Goodbye. Then she stepped backwards off the cliff and away to her destiny.
The next day, a flower bloomed on that cliff where she was last seen. A golden flower.
The blond teenager lay on his side, one arm propping up his head as he contemplated the cloud-gazing redhead lying next to him in the tall grass. It wasn’t often that he was able to see her doing something so ordinary, something he was used to doing with his younger cousin when they’d been small. All too often, Flint had watched as his friend fought off soldiers and mages with a quiet efficiency and rage that scared him stiff. Cira wasn’t as ruthless as the spy they travelled with, but she’d still killed people.
The pale-skinned boy shuddered as he remembered how she’d looked when she struck down a soldier that had been a few seconds away from running him through. Enraged, powerful, terrifying. Beautiful, even as Cira lost control of her animal shift and transformed into a massive, fiery lion. Flint fidgeted under the summer afternoon sun, rolling onto his back with a soft rustling of grass. Beside him, the young woman considered him with ice blue eyes.
“Something wrong?” she asked, casual in a way that revealed her own unease. Flint shrugged awkwardly.
“Just thinking,” he said, quickly casting about for a topic. There was no way he was going to let Red know he’d been entirely too focused on her for the past few minutes. “It’s almost been a year since we first met.” Cira rolled her eyes, though whether that was because of his sentimentality or his deflection Flint wasn’t sure.
“We met well into fall, Blue Fox,” she corrected him. “It’s only the Solstice, as Brook keeps pointing out.” Flint glanced toward the circle of stones a few feet away where the small brunette had taken a seat some hours ago and still remained, locked in a meditative state. The fourth member of their group prowled moodily around the stone circle in his wolf form, a shadowy protector on the bright sunny day.
“Ashton doesn’t like staying in one place for long, does he?” Flint asked, watching the brown wolf warily. Cira turned her head to watch the spy as well.
“He’s spent most of his life in a forest,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the plains are getting to him.” The gray-eyed wolf glared at them.
“There’s nowhere to hide if we’re attacked,” Ashton grumbled, returning to his human form. “Excuse me if that makes me nervous.” The tall teenager walked over to the pair and sat down next to Flint. Ruffling his black hair, the spy lay down perpendicular to his friends.
“Have some fruit salad,” Flint offered, pointing to the small blanket of food the four had set up on their arrival. The tanned boy grimaced and shook his head.
“Waiting for Brook to finish,” he muttered, glancing at the young woman still in the stone circle.
“Oh, is that all?” Cira sighed, closing her eyes. The brunette jumped up with a shriek, causing the redhead to chuckle. Flint bit his lip to stifle his own laugh. Ashton, having no such restraint, chortled as the short teenager scrambled to her feet.
“Cira! Don’t project stuff like that!” Brook shouted, stomping over to the laughing trio. Cira grinned, hugging herself as she continued chuckling helplessly.
“Don’t keep us waiting for lunch next time,” the redhead said, sitting up. Fending off her irate friend’s half-hearted tackle attempt, Cira knee-walked over to the food and sat back down. As Ashton and Brook joined her, Flint rolled over and rested his head on his folded arms.
He still missed his uncle and cousin and hoped he’d be able to find them alive and well. but on this summer afternoon, far away from the war they fought, Flint was perfectly content to enjoy spending time and a meal with his friends.
I sat on my bed lazily, scrolling through my Facebook posts. The sun shone outside, it was a "beautiful day", as my mother said. Well, I liked it in here, in the shade of my attic bedroom, with my secret candy stash as company.
I chewed on my gum and looked up in suprise as my door flew open, making my map of North America fall off the wall.
"Isabelle Hope Robinson! How many times did I tell you to get out there?" My mother pointed out the window. I looked over and spotted the waves rolling, stretching threateningly towards out house, like a dog pining for food, only to be jerked back by it's owner. I supressed the fear rising in my throat and turned to face my mom.
"Ummm, zero?" I winced as she shot me a look that said all so much.
"You are getting out of this house, young lady!"
* * *
I stood in front of the stairs, watching my mom lather sunscreen on my little brother, who was jumping in excitement.
"You look like a ghost," I told him.
"So do you!" He laughed, running out the door in his shark swimsuit. My mother walked out with the towels in her hand, and my dad was holding the umbrella. I sighed and followed them.
"Tell me again why I can't bring my phone?" I groaned as my mother spread out a towel on the sand. My dad pushed the umbrella into the soft sand.
"Because we are here to have fun," She replied sternly. "When I was a kid I spent all day outdoors, in fact…"
"Yeah right," I muttered. "What am I supposed to do?" Just then my brother came running up and tugged my sleeve. "Can you swim with me?" He begged.
"No, Kenny, not now," I begged, looking around at my mom, who was watching me intently.
"Mommy!" Kenny started wailing.
"Izzy, play with him," She said.
I gave up and plodded towards the beach. Once there, I looked into the water. It glared back at me. Then Kenny pushed me into the water.
I fell in. I was carried farther, splashing, spluttering, a wave crashed over me and I screamed, getting a mouthful of water.
A hand grasped my body, pulling me back to shore. And I fell unconscious.
* * *
I lay curled up on the beach. It was strangely warm and soft. I coughed up a mouthful of water after sitting up, before opening my eyes and letting out a gasp and I flushed.
Two hazel brown eyes looked back at me. The lifeguard smiled.
"You're awake!" He said brightly, standing up.
"Is this a dream?" I whispered, my vision still clearing. My brain felt fuzzy, and I giggled, holding onto his legs. "Fuzzy," I giggled again.
I mentally facepalmed myself. Was I insane? He probally thought I was some wierd girl now. Great. Just what I wanted. I then noticed my parents coming over and I stood up, backing away from him, not meeting his eyes.
"Come on, let's get back to the house…" My mother looked frantic. She thanked the lifeguard over and over again.
"Thank you sir…"
"Luke, 'mam." He smiled at me. His blonde hair was a bit ruffled from the swim.
* * *
"Why didn't you tell us you couldn't swim?" My mother asked, a bewildered expression on her face.
I just shrugged, pushing my cauliflower around.I didn't really listen to the conversation until I heard something.
"…Luke said that he teaches a swimming class. We'll have to sign her up."
"Yes!" I shot up, then sank down, embarrassed. My cheeks flushed.
"Uhhh, may I be excused from the table?" I asked. My mother nodded.
Authors of the other submissions will remain anonymous, unless they PM me with a notice that they want their names here.
The blazing sun up above shined downward on Snowpelt's long fur. It felt like his pelt was on fire. The white tom tried to ignore it, but to no avail. He trekked tiredly through his territory. The small shadow of a single bird passed Snowpelt quickly. He was starting to wish that he had wings. It would make progress much quicker. Snowpelt was the ThunderClan medicine cat and was currently on the hunt for herbs. Goldenrod specifically. He had run out of that already, due to another recent battle over sunningrocks. The tom used his nose to sniff out goldenrod. He could faintly smell it coming left of him. Snowpelt trudged though a pool of ferns. He grunbled as the scent of goldenrod seemed just as close as before. "Is the goldenrod moving?" Snowfoot mumbled. He nosed his way through a bushel of brambles. Afterwards, Snowfoot's pelt aching in pain. The white tom finally spotted a small clearing. Here, the suns rays were pouring down. Snowfoot grudgingly stepped out into the overwhelming sunlight. On the side of a few trees which surrounded the clearing, goldenrod grew. Snowfoot slowly move towards the herb. He gently picked it up in his mouth. Snowfoot briskly headed for cover from the sun, not like it made much a difference. He hastily returned back to camp, noticibg every cat panting due to the blaring heat. Snowfoot rushed into his den and settled the plants in their appropriate pile.
A small, brown, wounded she-cat walked in, escorted by Silverpelt, after a few minutes of boredom passed by. Snowfoot looked expectantly at the two she-cats. Silverpelt nudged Leafpaw towards the impatient medicine cat. Sootfoot grabbed some goldenrod and cobwebs. "Goldenrod has come earlier than usual. It doesn't normally bloom in the middle of summer," Silverpelt mewed. Snowfoot nodded. The silver deputy was correct. He thought it a pity she had not become his apprentice. Silverpelt was very observent. Snowfoot chewed the goldenrod into a more liquidy plant. He apploed it onto Leafpaw's wounds. After which, Snowfoot covered cobwebs over her wounds so that they would not get infected again. All throughout the day, Snowfoot was busy treating patients. All because of a squabble over territory.
The moon hang above in the sky. Snowfoot was exhausted, but stayed up to gaze at the stars, even though it wabsstill humid and hot. In his anguished mind, he was demanding answers from Starclan to why these battles happened. Snowfoot saw each and every cat who was hurt. He always saw how much pain they were in because of the claws of another clan. Snowfoot felt like yowling angrily at Starclan. He sighed melancholic before returning back to his den. The tom curled up, still mentally shouting at Starclan.
In his dreams, a vivid picture of Starclan filled his mind. He spotted a tortoiseshell tom approaching him. Snowfoot glared menacingly at him. "Come to harm me too?" He growled. Russetfang stood silently, emotinoless and unmoving. "Too embarressed of your actions?" Snowfoot said, once he saw that the Starclanner was not going to speak. Finally, the silence broke through. "Cats have claws for a reason," Russetfang mewed. "We have them to fight. There will always be suffering in the clans. There will be deaths, there will be sadness. but Starclan is not responsible. In fact, we are the reason the clans go overboard for survival. The Warrior Code was placed by Starclan so that cats had another reason to live," Snowfoot made a face. He arched his back, his fur prickling. "Oh so you came here to lecture me? Well then, go away!" Snowfoot hissed. Russetfang sighed. He looked sadly at the smaller tom. The tortoiseshell tom turned around and left hesistantly. Snowfoot let out a sigh of relief. The white tom never wanted to see a Starclan cat again.
It was not a balmy day; it was one of those scorching hot, rainless days where the sun seemed to sap the energy out of everything. The trees stayed stiff and tall, waiting for the breeze that would not come.
Troutwish continued down the sidewalk. She could not be more ashamed of herself. She had no talent, like Pikestar had reminded her when he had yelled at her.
So what had been the point of staying? Troutwish left SunsetClan the next day,never to return.
It was the eve of greenleaf, and it was supposed to be a time to relax; prey were getting fatter and easier to catch, but the smallest of mice still seemed to be escaping Troutwish’s claws; the youngest apprentices were able to knock her off her paws.
Warriors had been sympathetic after Pikestar’s outburst. “You know why I even made you a warrior in the first place? Because I felt SORRY for you. Look at all your successful littermates. What have I named you? Troutwish, because I WISH you could be something meaningful to the Clan!” The words stuck in her head.
She passed rows of Twoleg nests, surrounded by tall, brown wooden stokes.
“Hey!”
Troutwish jerked her head. The cat on the stoke blocked the hot ball of the sun, and the light outlined his shape, like a celestial glow. His body looked somewhat like a bush;His body was spread out width-wise, almost eating up his paws, which were tucked under his bulging chest. His smile, however, was friendly and curious.
“H-hi,” Troutwish stuttered. By the looks of his obesity, he was a kittypet.
“Who are you?” He asked, tilting his head.
“Why do you want to know?” she snapped. A kittypet; she still felt the need to keep her pride, and not talk to anyone like him.
“I was just asking,” the kittypet replied, looking hurt. “I’m Allurie.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking at him. He peered down at her.
“What did you say?”
She looked back up at him. The hurt was gone, and his eyes shone with amusement and something else. “Sorry,” she repeated, louder.
“Oh,” the tom said. “I thought you said, ‘whatever,’ and I was just about to ask if you could be any ruder. I’ll try again, then. I’m Allurie. What’s your name?”
Troutwish felt a spark of annoyance. Haven’t I suffered enough? “Troutwish,” she sighed.
“Don’t go,” Allurie called out, as she turned, “we’ve just met. Don’t you want to stay for cream?”
“What? No,” she said, and tried to leave again.
“The Clans are the other way.”
She froze. How could he know about the Clans? How did he know she used to be part of them? Turning around, she knew he saw her surprise.
“Your name,” he said, and she nodded numbly. Obviously. “So you’re going the wrong way. Why aren’t you with your Clanmates?”
“None of your business,” she snapped.
“Okay,” he said, “are you sure you don’t want cream?”
“No,” she replied. “I’m going to go. Bye.” she started to walk, when he spoke again.
“Exiled?”
Glaring at him, Troutwish scowled. “None of your business.”
“Mhm,” he said, “I still want to know.”
Who was this cat? “Yes, I left,” she said in exasperation. “I left because they hated me okay? I mess things up.”
“I have cream,” Allurie said again, “or, at least, my Twolegs give it to me. Want some?”
“No,” snapped Troutwish, genuinely annoyed now. “I don’t want your… cream. I can live without it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Then, I hope you find happiness in your life. I’ve found mine, and that’s--”
“Cream,” she finished impatiently.
“And greenleaftime.”
“Really?” she asked. “Why would you like greenleaf time? Nobody works at that time.” Not that I can anytime.
“So? I don’t ‘work.’And, if it gets too hot, then I’ll just go for a swim.”
Troutwish tried to imagine a life without work. “No work? Then what do you do with your life?”
“Well, you could say I kind of work. I’m friends with many cats. Some of them need food, because they’re nestless, so they visit. Some have kittens I watch while they’re out hunting, or some are just sad, and I go comfort them. Like you.”
“I’m not sad!”
“Sure. Point is, my job is to make sure everyone’s feeling good. I make sure they live. I know I’m, like, fat and all, but I do what I want to do. And I’m happy. So I’m living.”
“What do you mean, ‘so I’m living?’ I’m living too.”
“No you’re not,” he said abruptly, “you’re just not dying. ‘Living’ and ‘not dying’ are different.”
“Yeah? What’s living?” Troutwish growled.
“That’s easy,” he grinned. “Living means you’re doing the things you want, and knowing that you want to do it. Not dying… well, you’re just not dying.”
“So you’re saying I have low standards?” demanded Troutwish. “For my life?”
“Well, yes and no,” shrugged Allurie. “Maybe the Clans aren’t meeting your standards. Or you’re not meeting theirs. The world’s full of possibilities. Being confined in a Clan doesn’t give you any chance to find the one thing you like.”
“You could say the same thing about being a kittypet.”
“Mhm,” Allurie said. “but I’ve already found my happiness- living like this. I don’t have to leave. but those vagabonds in the world-- they’re still searching, or just enjoy travelling. We all die in the end, Troutwish. StarClan didn’t give you a life just so you die in the end. What’s the point, then? No, I think the point of life is to live it to its fullest, while you still have time. You have a lifetime. Especially greenleaftime, like now. It’s hot, yeah, but you can always cool down. There’s fun in that. Hardships like leafbaretime make greenleaftime more enjoyable.”
Troutwish was baffled. How could a kittypet know this much? but it’s true. She looked up.
“You know, I think I might stay for cream.”
The second prize winner is Babylonranger!
The third prize winner is @pawsfun!
Nom's Story
I'm adding the leaves to their accounts right now, and the winners should PM me about their other prizes.
Moorea blearily blinked open her eyes. Outside an icy wind howled like it had for the past five or six months. The whole town had been engulfed in a constant blizzard, severing contact with the outside world and spreading sickness faster than the ice would freeze over water. She rolled out of bed, shivering in the freezing air. Quickly she changed into her warmest clothes before walking into the kitchen. Moorea was filling the kettle with water when her father came in. He worked at the weather station in the north of town. Once upon a time it had been the least important job in town, now it was incredibly important as they had to try and figure out where the snow was coming from and when it would stop. Soon food would run out and people would begin to starve. He smiled at her.
“Hey honey, I’ve gotta go into work early today. Mark reckons that he has found a break in the weather. We might even be able to send out a truck for more supplies”. Mark was her father’s colleague, one of the six other men working in his office.
He was about to leave when she asked, “How’s Mama?” A strange sickness had been tearing throughout the population, people were starting to call it the Winter’s Curse. Several people had died from it already and her mother had recently began to show symptoms.
“She isn’t feeling well. Can you stay inside today and look after her? I’m going to take Milo into work with me to keep him out of the way”. Milo was her twelve year-old brother. She nodded and continued to make herself a cup of tea. The slam of a door signaled her father leaving. She wandered down the house towards her parents room. Moorea peeped inside the darkened room and then stepped slowly in. She could hear her mother’s ragged breathing and see her dark brown hair, just visible above the covers. Suddenly everything went quiet. “Mama? Are you okay? Do you need anything...” She crept closer to the bed, anxious as to what she would find. Her mother wasn’t moving. Perfectly still. Icy cold. Horrified, Moorea ran to the phone, remembering just in time that the phone lines were out. She grabbed her thickest coat and burst out into the cold. Shad to find help. Just then she heard a familiar voice.
“Hey Moorea! Where are you going?” She looked up to see her friend Teddy running up to her. She stumbled over to him, numb with fear, glad of his warm embrace.
“M-Mama’s dead,” she breathed out so quietly. It couldn’t be true. but deep down Moorea knew that it was true. The hard truth. She felt Teddy tightened his hold on her.
Finally he whispered, “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do now?” She didn’t answer for a moment, unsure of what to say. What am I going to to? Where can I go? When she did reply, it was in a low murmur.
“I need to get away. I can’t face the truth. I-it’s just so hard to face... I really can’t believe it”. She felt tears begin to run down her face and onto her soft coat. A warm hand wiped them away and onto the frozen ground.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said encouragingly, “let’s go for a walk. Just promise me that you won’t worry. We will sort this out”. They began to walk down the abandoned street, hand in hand.
Later that day the wind died down for the first time in weeks. Two figures stood atop a hill, gazing down at the view below. Insignificant in a world of white. Teddy brought something out of his pocket and presented it to Moorea.
“I saw this the other day and I thought that you would like it”. Nestled in his hand was a clear amber gem, about the size of an egg, but perfect and round. She looked down at it, transfixed by the beauty of it.
“I-I love it,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, “it is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. She took it from him, feeling its warmth. Suddenly, it began to glow. Moorea almost dropped it in surprise and her hair began to glow golden, whipped up as if a hard wind were blowing the thick locks. Her eyes grew brighter and more green, her lips becoming red and her skin rosy. Teddy was staring at her feet where the snow was melting away to reveal small green sprigs of grass and tiny daisies. Moorea looked at Teddy in fear.
“What’s happening to me?” She asked, frightened at what the answer would be. The stone was still nestled in her hands, it’s warmth spreading throughout her body and out into the air. Her thick coats began to turn green and thinner until they unfurled into huge leaves, revealing a pure white dress hung loosely upon her. She looked up at her friend.
“What should I do? I don’t feel the cold any more... What’s happened to me?” She felt the fresh grass and soft earth on her bare feet. It was a beautiful feeling.
“I always knew that you were special. Why don’t you just go with the flow and see where it takes you?”. He stretched open his arms and nodded.
“Teddy...” She flung herself at him and hugged him with a new brightness that she hadn’t felt for many a long month. They held it there for a few moments before breaking away.
“Goodbye Summer” whispered Teddy. He turned around and walked away towards the town. Moorea watched him go. Goodbye. Then she stepped backwards off the cliff and away to her destiny.
The next day, a flower bloomed on that cliff where she was last seen. A golden flower.
Babylon's Story: Solstice Picnic
The blond teenager lay on his side, one arm propping up his head as he contemplated the cloud-gazing redhead lying next to him in the tall grass. It wasn’t often that he was able to see her doing something so ordinary, something he was used to doing with his younger cousin when they’d been small. All too often, Flint had watched as his friend fought off soldiers and mages with a quiet efficiency and rage that scared him stiff. Cira wasn’t as ruthless as the spy they travelled with, but she’d still killed people.
The pale-skinned boy shuddered as he remembered how she’d looked when she struck down a soldier that had been a few seconds away from running him through. Enraged, powerful, terrifying. Beautiful, even as Cira lost control of her animal shift and transformed into a massive, fiery lion. Flint fidgeted under the summer afternoon sun, rolling onto his back with a soft rustling of grass. Beside him, the young woman considered him with ice blue eyes.
“Something wrong?” she asked, casual in a way that revealed her own unease. Flint shrugged awkwardly.
“Just thinking,” he said, quickly casting about for a topic. There was no way he was going to let Red know he’d been entirely too focused on her for the past few minutes. “It’s almost been a year since we first met.” Cira rolled her eyes, though whether that was because of his sentimentality or his deflection Flint wasn’t sure.
“We met well into fall, Blue Fox,” she corrected him. “It’s only the Solstice, as Brook keeps pointing out.” Flint glanced toward the circle of stones a few feet away where the small brunette had taken a seat some hours ago and still remained, locked in a meditative state. The fourth member of their group prowled moodily around the stone circle in his wolf form, a shadowy protector on the bright sunny day.
“Ashton doesn’t like staying in one place for long, does he?” Flint asked, watching the brown wolf warily. Cira turned her head to watch the spy as well.
“He’s spent most of his life in a forest,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the plains are getting to him.” The gray-eyed wolf glared at them.
“There’s nowhere to hide if we’re attacked,” Ashton grumbled, returning to his human form. “Excuse me if that makes me nervous.” The tall teenager walked over to the pair and sat down next to Flint. Ruffling his black hair, the spy lay down perpendicular to his friends.
“Have some fruit salad,” Flint offered, pointing to the small blanket of food the four had set up on their arrival. The tanned boy grimaced and shook his head.
“Waiting for Brook to finish,” he muttered, glancing at the young woman still in the stone circle.
“Oh, is that all?” Cira sighed, closing her eyes. The brunette jumped up with a shriek, causing the redhead to chuckle. Flint bit his lip to stifle his own laugh. Ashton, having no such restraint, chortled as the short teenager scrambled to her feet.
“Cira! Don’t project stuff like that!” Brook shouted, stomping over to the laughing trio. Cira grinned, hugging herself as she continued chuckling helplessly.
“Don’t keep us waiting for lunch next time,” the redhead said, sitting up. Fending off her irate friend’s half-hearted tackle attempt, Cira knee-walked over to the food and sat back down. As Ashton and Brook joined her, Flint rolled over and rested his head on his folded arms.
He still missed his uncle and cousin and hoped he’d be able to find them alive and well. but on this summer afternoon, far away from the war they fought, Flint was perfectly content to enjoy spending time and a meal with his friends.
Pawsfun's Story
I sat on my bed lazily, scrolling through my Facebook posts. The sun shone outside, it was a "beautiful day", as my mother said. Well, I liked it in here, in the shade of my attic bedroom, with my secret candy stash as company.
I chewed on my gum and looked up in suprise as my door flew open, making my map of North America fall off the wall.
"Isabelle Hope Robinson! How many times did I tell you to get out there?" My mother pointed out the window. I looked over and spotted the waves rolling, stretching threateningly towards out house, like a dog pining for food, only to be jerked back by it's owner. I supressed the fear rising in my throat and turned to face my mom.
"Ummm, zero?" I winced as she shot me a look that said all so much.
"You are getting out of this house, young lady!"
* * *
I stood in front of the stairs, watching my mom lather sunscreen on my little brother, who was jumping in excitement.
"You look like a ghost," I told him.
"So do you!" He laughed, running out the door in his shark swimsuit. My mother walked out with the towels in her hand, and my dad was holding the umbrella. I sighed and followed them.
"Tell me again why I can't bring my phone?" I groaned as my mother spread out a towel on the sand. My dad pushed the umbrella into the soft sand.
"Because we are here to have fun," She replied sternly. "When I was a kid I spent all day outdoors, in fact…"
"Yeah right," I muttered. "What am I supposed to do?" Just then my brother came running up and tugged my sleeve. "Can you swim with me?" He begged.
"No, Kenny, not now," I begged, looking around at my mom, who was watching me intently.
"Mommy!" Kenny started wailing.
"Izzy, play with him," She said.
I gave up and plodded towards the beach. Once there, I looked into the water. It glared back at me. Then Kenny pushed me into the water.
I fell in. I was carried farther, splashing, spluttering, a wave crashed over me and I screamed, getting a mouthful of water.
A hand grasped my body, pulling me back to shore. And I fell unconscious.
* * *
I lay curled up on the beach. It was strangely warm and soft. I coughed up a mouthful of water after sitting up, before opening my eyes and letting out a gasp and I flushed.
Two hazel brown eyes looked back at me. The lifeguard smiled.
"You're awake!" He said brightly, standing up.
"Is this a dream?" I whispered, my vision still clearing. My brain felt fuzzy, and I giggled, holding onto his legs. "Fuzzy," I giggled again.
I mentally facepalmed myself. Was I insane? He probally thought I was some wierd girl now. Great. Just what I wanted. I then noticed my parents coming over and I stood up, backing away from him, not meeting his eyes.
"Come on, let's get back to the house…" My mother looked frantic. She thanked the lifeguard over and over again.
"Thank you sir…"
"Luke, 'mam." He smiled at me. His blonde hair was a bit ruffled from the swim.
* * *
"Why didn't you tell us you couldn't swim?" My mother asked, a bewildered expression on her face.
I just shrugged, pushing my cauliflower around.I didn't really listen to the conversation until I heard something.
"…Luke said that he teaches a swimming class. We'll have to sign her up."
"Yes!" I shot up, then sank down, embarrassed. My cheeks flushed.
"Uhhh, may I be excused from the table?" I asked. My mother nodded.
Authors of the other submissions will remain anonymous, unless they PM me with a notice that they want their names here.
Submission One
The blazing sun up above shined downward on Snowpelt's long fur. It felt like his pelt was on fire. The white tom tried to ignore it, but to no avail. He trekked tiredly through his territory. The small shadow of a single bird passed Snowpelt quickly. He was starting to wish that he had wings. It would make progress much quicker. Snowpelt was the ThunderClan medicine cat and was currently on the hunt for herbs. Goldenrod specifically. He had run out of that already, due to another recent battle over sunningrocks. The tom used his nose to sniff out goldenrod. He could faintly smell it coming left of him. Snowpelt trudged though a pool of ferns. He grunbled as the scent of goldenrod seemed just as close as before. "Is the goldenrod moving?" Snowfoot mumbled. He nosed his way through a bushel of brambles. Afterwards, Snowfoot's pelt aching in pain. The white tom finally spotted a small clearing. Here, the suns rays were pouring down. Snowfoot grudgingly stepped out into the overwhelming sunlight. On the side of a few trees which surrounded the clearing, goldenrod grew. Snowfoot slowly move towards the herb. He gently picked it up in his mouth. Snowfoot briskly headed for cover from the sun, not like it made much a difference. He hastily returned back to camp, noticibg every cat panting due to the blaring heat. Snowfoot rushed into his den and settled the plants in their appropriate pile.
A small, brown, wounded she-cat walked in, escorted by Silverpelt, after a few minutes of boredom passed by. Snowfoot looked expectantly at the two she-cats. Silverpelt nudged Leafpaw towards the impatient medicine cat. Sootfoot grabbed some goldenrod and cobwebs. "Goldenrod has come earlier than usual. It doesn't normally bloom in the middle of summer," Silverpelt mewed. Snowfoot nodded. The silver deputy was correct. He thought it a pity she had not become his apprentice. Silverpelt was very observent. Snowfoot chewed the goldenrod into a more liquidy plant. He apploed it onto Leafpaw's wounds. After which, Snowfoot covered cobwebs over her wounds so that they would not get infected again. All throughout the day, Snowfoot was busy treating patients. All because of a squabble over territory.
The moon hang above in the sky. Snowfoot was exhausted, but stayed up to gaze at the stars, even though it wabsstill humid and hot. In his anguished mind, he was demanding answers from Starclan to why these battles happened. Snowfoot saw each and every cat who was hurt. He always saw how much pain they were in because of the claws of another clan. Snowfoot felt like yowling angrily at Starclan. He sighed melancholic before returning back to his den. The tom curled up, still mentally shouting at Starclan.
In his dreams, a vivid picture of Starclan filled his mind. He spotted a tortoiseshell tom approaching him. Snowfoot glared menacingly at him. "Come to harm me too?" He growled. Russetfang stood silently, emotinoless and unmoving. "Too embarressed of your actions?" Snowfoot said, once he saw that the Starclanner was not going to speak. Finally, the silence broke through. "Cats have claws for a reason," Russetfang mewed. "We have them to fight. There will always be suffering in the clans. There will be deaths, there will be sadness. but Starclan is not responsible. In fact, we are the reason the clans go overboard for survival. The Warrior Code was placed by Starclan so that cats had another reason to live," Snowfoot made a face. He arched his back, his fur prickling. "Oh so you came here to lecture me? Well then, go away!" Snowfoot hissed. Russetfang sighed. He looked sadly at the smaller tom. The tortoiseshell tom turned around and left hesistantly. Snowfoot let out a sigh of relief. The white tom never wanted to see a Starclan cat again.
Submission 3
It was not a balmy day; it was one of those scorching hot, rainless days where the sun seemed to sap the energy out of everything. The trees stayed stiff and tall, waiting for the breeze that would not come.
Troutwish continued down the sidewalk. She could not be more ashamed of herself. She had no talent, like Pikestar had reminded her when he had yelled at her.
So what had been the point of staying? Troutwish left SunsetClan the next day,never to return.
It was the eve of greenleaf, and it was supposed to be a time to relax; prey were getting fatter and easier to catch, but the smallest of mice still seemed to be escaping Troutwish’s claws; the youngest apprentices were able to knock her off her paws.
Warriors had been sympathetic after Pikestar’s outburst. “You know why I even made you a warrior in the first place? Because I felt SORRY for you. Look at all your successful littermates. What have I named you? Troutwish, because I WISH you could be something meaningful to the Clan!” The words stuck in her head.
She passed rows of Twoleg nests, surrounded by tall, brown wooden stokes.
“Hey!”
Troutwish jerked her head. The cat on the stoke blocked the hot ball of the sun, and the light outlined his shape, like a celestial glow. His body looked somewhat like a bush;His body was spread out width-wise, almost eating up his paws, which were tucked under his bulging chest. His smile, however, was friendly and curious.
“H-hi,” Troutwish stuttered. By the looks of his obesity, he was a kittypet.
“Who are you?” He asked, tilting his head.
“Why do you want to know?” she snapped. A kittypet; she still felt the need to keep her pride, and not talk to anyone like him.
“I was just asking,” the kittypet replied, looking hurt. “I’m Allurie.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking at him. He peered down at her.
“What did you say?”
She looked back up at him. The hurt was gone, and his eyes shone with amusement and something else. “Sorry,” she repeated, louder.
“Oh,” the tom said. “I thought you said, ‘whatever,’ and I was just about to ask if you could be any ruder. I’ll try again, then. I’m Allurie. What’s your name?”
Troutwish felt a spark of annoyance. Haven’t I suffered enough? “Troutwish,” she sighed.
“Don’t go,” Allurie called out, as she turned, “we’ve just met. Don’t you want to stay for cream?”
“What? No,” she said, and tried to leave again.
“The Clans are the other way.”
She froze. How could he know about the Clans? How did he know she used to be part of them? Turning around, she knew he saw her surprise.
“Your name,” he said, and she nodded numbly. Obviously. “So you’re going the wrong way. Why aren’t you with your Clanmates?”
“None of your business,” she snapped.
“Okay,” he said, “are you sure you don’t want cream?”
“No,” she replied. “I’m going to go. Bye.” she started to walk, when he spoke again.
“Exiled?”
Glaring at him, Troutwish scowled. “None of your business.”
“Mhm,” he said, “I still want to know.”
Who was this cat? “Yes, I left,” she said in exasperation. “I left because they hated me okay? I mess things up.”
“I have cream,” Allurie said again, “or, at least, my Twolegs give it to me. Want some?”
“No,” snapped Troutwish, genuinely annoyed now. “I don’t want your… cream. I can live without it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Then, I hope you find happiness in your life. I’ve found mine, and that’s--”
“Cream,” she finished impatiently.
“And greenleaftime.”
“Really?” she asked. “Why would you like greenleaf time? Nobody works at that time.” Not that I can anytime.
“So? I don’t ‘work.’And, if it gets too hot, then I’ll just go for a swim.”
Troutwish tried to imagine a life without work. “No work? Then what do you do with your life?”
“Well, you could say I kind of work. I’m friends with many cats. Some of them need food, because they’re nestless, so they visit. Some have kittens I watch while they’re out hunting, or some are just sad, and I go comfort them. Like you.”
“I’m not sad!”
“Sure. Point is, my job is to make sure everyone’s feeling good. I make sure they live. I know I’m, like, fat and all, but I do what I want to do. And I’m happy. So I’m living.”
“What do you mean, ‘so I’m living?’ I’m living too.”
“No you’re not,” he said abruptly, “you’re just not dying. ‘Living’ and ‘not dying’ are different.”
“Yeah? What’s living?” Troutwish growled.
“That’s easy,” he grinned. “Living means you’re doing the things you want, and knowing that you want to do it. Not dying… well, you’re just not dying.”
“So you’re saying I have low standards?” demanded Troutwish. “For my life?”
“Well, yes and no,” shrugged Allurie. “Maybe the Clans aren’t meeting your standards. Or you’re not meeting theirs. The world’s full of possibilities. Being confined in a Clan doesn’t give you any chance to find the one thing you like.”
“You could say the same thing about being a kittypet.”
“Mhm,” Allurie said. “but I’ve already found my happiness- living like this. I don’t have to leave. but those vagabonds in the world-- they’re still searching, or just enjoy travelling. We all die in the end, Troutwish. StarClan didn’t give you a life just so you die in the end. What’s the point, then? No, I think the point of life is to live it to its fullest, while you still have time. You have a lifetime. Especially greenleaftime, like now. It’s hot, yeah, but you can always cool down. There’s fun in that. Hardships like leafbaretime make greenleaftime more enjoyable.”
Troutwish was baffled. How could a kittypet know this much? but it’s true. She looked up.
“You know, I think I might stay for cream.”
