Cat Of My Imagination
Jun 19, 2015 12:12:37 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2015 12:12:37 GMT -5
This story is about Willowpaw and his stupid adventure.
I'm not the best with words, can't spell, and I can't grammar. ;w; Please tell me when something is wrong. )
~:;In Windclan;:~
Willowpaw woke to the loud snoring of his denmates. Blinking for awhile, he finally looked up at the sky - Silverpelt was still out, shining brightly as ever. It almost hurt. He turned his head slightly and looked at his denmates, over and over. All of them were asleep. Good, right? Then he could sneak out of camp and catch the biggest rabbit they've ever seen without a flee-brain following him, screwing up every move he made. Or was he just bad at hunting? Nah, he was the best. But then why did the warriors get mad at him for not catching a rabbit...?
He quickly shook his head, clearing his distracting thoughts. Softly, he crawled away from the cats surrounding him, careful not to brush his bright, white fur on them. He snuck past the warriors, but broke a stick as he did so. He braced himself for the angry warrior to yell at him. He waited. And waited. And waited some more. Did they hear that? It was pretty loud, it thought to himself. He took a look at them, scanning to see if any of them had awoke. None as far as he could see. Good. As he crawled closer to the entrance, he heard a cat talking to another.
Probably an elder, by that tone of voice. He hurried away, ignoring anything that made noise anymore. Already out of camp, and as the Sun was coming up at the slowest pace possible, he scanned the moor, smiling to himself. This was his moor, for at least a little while, as the cats woke up and stretched, debating who would go on patrols. He saw a flash of brown fur go across his vision, and dashed after it, his muscles feeling free.
~:;Outside Of Camp;:~
The wind flying past his ears, his fur flying, sometimes crashing against his pelt, and the - rather big, - brown animal running away from him, faster than he thought it could be. Almost wanting to stop, he sucked up more breath, determined to gain on it. It made a sudden turn, and he skidded to a small halt, then continued to run after it. It would not get away from him this time. He needed to make his clan proud. But he knew they wouldn't be, because no one ever liked him.
He didn't do anything wrong, but everyone just seemed to hate him. Maybe he did something when he was younger, or maybe nothing at all. Was it because he messed up all the time? It wasn't his fault, the prey were too fast for him. And he wasn't the biggest cat around, which made it harder. Maybe he wasn't clan born, like those cats at Thunderclan... As he was thinking this, he didn't notice that the rabbit was completely gone, all the way across the moor. He had stopped running because he was deep in thought.
He cursed under his breath. Maybe that's why they don't like him. He was absent-minded and thought a lot. No cat liked that, right? He breathed a deep sigh and hung his head, padding quickly back to camp. Now they would ask where he has been, and then he would have to tell them that he failed at catching another piece of prey. Then the scolding would begin.
As he neared camp, he heard loud chatting.Throwing his head up, he saw the leader making his way though the crowd of cats in the middle of camp. Instead of falling into the crowd, he stayed at the entrance, his ears perked. What had happened while he was gone? It wasn't that long, Silverpelt was still fading into the bright blue sky that would soon come. But as he looked closer, there was blood on the leader's shoulder, and his ear looked ripped. Had they been attacked? Why couldn't he hear it then? Maybe it was the wind in his ears? But no other cat looked hurt, not a scratch. Until his eyes fell on Hawkdapple, the deputy. His mentor.
~:;In Camp;:~
too pissed to rewrite this bc the page screwed up so im going to the end of it. nothing rly happened other than hawkdapple attacked pinestar and an apprentice and willow stopped it. and then i asked too many questions like normal and now were both exiled.
Willowpaw stared in disbelief at Pinestar, covered in blood and scars. Even though he was just attack, he was being rude already. "W-what did I do?!" Willowpaw asked, confused. He hadn't attacked him or the apprentice. Before Pinestar could answer, he felt jaws clamp on his tuft, being pulled away. "H-help!" He squeaked, thrashing here and there, but the clan just watched him be taken away, eyes wide. Pinestar had a cold gaze, but it was directed to the cat carrying him. His mentor, Hawkdapple.
~:;Territory;:~
"L-let me go!" Willowpaw growled, trying to escape Hawkdapples grasp. She wouldn't say anything the whole time she padded on, and he gave up after a short while, too tired to move anymore. He hung his head, defeated, he thought.This is why no cat liked him. He's too weak. Even a kit could beat him up. A big kit, that is. That's about the size he was, maybe a bit bigger. He had a stumpy tail, and it didn't help with balance. His fur was also ugly to him, bright white with a light grey blotch on his back. He continued to think badly about himself, not even paying attention to where Hawkdapple was leading them - or was her name Hawk now? His Willow?
Not noticing, he had fallen asleep, and that's why he couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about his fur, his clan, his - former - leader. The hurt apprentice, the size difference between him and a near-apprenticed kit, the random blotch on him. Pinestars bright green eyes that dug into his mind, his own dull yellow eyes that seemed to scare cats off, Hawks dirty-white paw. He couldn't stop thinking about things that didn't matter, and that effected his whole life. If he didn't interrupt the fight, he might still be there. But then Hawk would be killed, because Pinestar fights to the death. He wasn't a loyal leader. He should be put in the dark forest. Exiled, instead of Willow. Killed, for all the lives he's taken in fights, with Thunderclan, and Shadowclan. These thoughts continued for a long time.
Hawk, on the other hand, was getting tired of carrying the overgrown-kit. Between Fourtrees and the Falls, she stopped at the big rock inbetween, and sheltered there. She covered Willowpaw - now Willow - with leaves and moss, and layed a few sticks near him. He didn't blend in good, but his scent would fade faster and he wouldn't be the coldest cat around. Hearing her stomach growl, she turned and padding off, going to hunt for them. She would have to be the hunter, after all, since he couldn't do anything right. But she would fix that. She would make him powerful, and help him grow out of his weak stage. He couldn't survive like he was now, and she needed to fix that before she happened to pass on.
She could see it now - if she wasn't with him, he would be shredded by badgers, or foxes, or the weather. Killed by being in the territory of another clan, getting ran over by a Monster, falling into the Falls. Starving or freezing to death, or dying of age. Hawk wasn't going to let any of those happen to him, but one. She was going to prove he could do something. She wasn't going to let her apprentice die, just because of a mistake she made.
I'm not the best with words, can't spell, and I can't grammar. ;w; Please tell me when something is wrong. )
~:;In Windclan;:~
Willowpaw woke to the loud snoring of his denmates. Blinking for awhile, he finally looked up at the sky - Silverpelt was still out, shining brightly as ever. It almost hurt. He turned his head slightly and looked at his denmates, over and over. All of them were asleep. Good, right? Then he could sneak out of camp and catch the biggest rabbit they've ever seen without a flee-brain following him, screwing up every move he made. Or was he just bad at hunting? Nah, he was the best. But then why did the warriors get mad at him for not catching a rabbit...?
He quickly shook his head, clearing his distracting thoughts. Softly, he crawled away from the cats surrounding him, careful not to brush his bright, white fur on them. He snuck past the warriors, but broke a stick as he did so. He braced himself for the angry warrior to yell at him. He waited. And waited. And waited some more. Did they hear that? It was pretty loud, it thought to himself. He took a look at them, scanning to see if any of them had awoke. None as far as he could see. Good. As he crawled closer to the entrance, he heard a cat talking to another.
Probably an elder, by that tone of voice. He hurried away, ignoring anything that made noise anymore. Already out of camp, and as the Sun was coming up at the slowest pace possible, he scanned the moor, smiling to himself. This was his moor, for at least a little while, as the cats woke up and stretched, debating who would go on patrols. He saw a flash of brown fur go across his vision, and dashed after it, his muscles feeling free.
~:;Outside Of Camp;:~
The wind flying past his ears, his fur flying, sometimes crashing against his pelt, and the - rather big, - brown animal running away from him, faster than he thought it could be. Almost wanting to stop, he sucked up more breath, determined to gain on it. It made a sudden turn, and he skidded to a small halt, then continued to run after it. It would not get away from him this time. He needed to make his clan proud. But he knew they wouldn't be, because no one ever liked him.
He didn't do anything wrong, but everyone just seemed to hate him. Maybe he did something when he was younger, or maybe nothing at all. Was it because he messed up all the time? It wasn't his fault, the prey were too fast for him. And he wasn't the biggest cat around, which made it harder. Maybe he wasn't clan born, like those cats at Thunderclan... As he was thinking this, he didn't notice that the rabbit was completely gone, all the way across the moor. He had stopped running because he was deep in thought.
He cursed under his breath. Maybe that's why they don't like him. He was absent-minded and thought a lot. No cat liked that, right? He breathed a deep sigh and hung his head, padding quickly back to camp. Now they would ask where he has been, and then he would have to tell them that he failed at catching another piece of prey. Then the scolding would begin.
As he neared camp, he heard loud chatting.Throwing his head up, he saw the leader making his way though the crowd of cats in the middle of camp. Instead of falling into the crowd, he stayed at the entrance, his ears perked. What had happened while he was gone? It wasn't that long, Silverpelt was still fading into the bright blue sky that would soon come. But as he looked closer, there was blood on the leader's shoulder, and his ear looked ripped. Had they been attacked? Why couldn't he hear it then? Maybe it was the wind in his ears? But no other cat looked hurt, not a scratch. Until his eyes fell on Hawkdapple, the deputy. His mentor.
~:;In Camp;:~
too pissed to rewrite this bc the page screwed up so im going to the end of it. nothing rly happened other than hawkdapple attacked pinestar and an apprentice and willow stopped it. and then i asked too many questions like normal and now were both exiled.
Willowpaw stared in disbelief at Pinestar, covered in blood and scars. Even though he was just attack, he was being rude already. "W-what did I do?!" Willowpaw asked, confused. He hadn't attacked him or the apprentice. Before Pinestar could answer, he felt jaws clamp on his tuft, being pulled away. "H-help!" He squeaked, thrashing here and there, but the clan just watched him be taken away, eyes wide. Pinestar had a cold gaze, but it was directed to the cat carrying him. His mentor, Hawkdapple.
~:;Territory;:~
"L-let me go!" Willowpaw growled, trying to escape Hawkdapples grasp. She wouldn't say anything the whole time she padded on, and he gave up after a short while, too tired to move anymore. He hung his head, defeated, he thought.This is why no cat liked him. He's too weak. Even a kit could beat him up. A big kit, that is. That's about the size he was, maybe a bit bigger. He had a stumpy tail, and it didn't help with balance. His fur was also ugly to him, bright white with a light grey blotch on his back. He continued to think badly about himself, not even paying attention to where Hawkdapple was leading them - or was her name Hawk now? His Willow?
Not noticing, he had fallen asleep, and that's why he couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about his fur, his clan, his - former - leader. The hurt apprentice, the size difference between him and a near-apprenticed kit, the random blotch on him. Pinestars bright green eyes that dug into his mind, his own dull yellow eyes that seemed to scare cats off, Hawks dirty-white paw. He couldn't stop thinking about things that didn't matter, and that effected his whole life. If he didn't interrupt the fight, he might still be there. But then Hawk would be killed, because Pinestar fights to the death. He wasn't a loyal leader. He should be put in the dark forest. Exiled, instead of Willow. Killed, for all the lives he's taken in fights, with Thunderclan, and Shadowclan. These thoughts continued for a long time.
Hawk, on the other hand, was getting tired of carrying the overgrown-kit. Between Fourtrees and the Falls, she stopped at the big rock inbetween, and sheltered there. She covered Willowpaw - now Willow - with leaves and moss, and layed a few sticks near him. He didn't blend in good, but his scent would fade faster and he wouldn't be the coldest cat around. Hearing her stomach growl, she turned and padding off, going to hunt for them. She would have to be the hunter, after all, since he couldn't do anything right. But she would fix that. She would make him powerful, and help him grow out of his weak stage. He couldn't survive like he was now, and she needed to fix that before she happened to pass on.
She could see it now - if she wasn't with him, he would be shredded by badgers, or foxes, or the weather. Killed by being in the territory of another clan, getting ran over by a Monster, falling into the Falls. Starving or freezing to death, or dying of age. Hawk wasn't going to let any of those happen to him, but one. She was going to prove he could do something. She wasn't going to let her apprentice die, just because of a mistake she made.
