beech
Holiday Reindeer 
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Post by beech on Nov 23, 2015 23:38:44 GMT -5
Note: This book is inspired by the 'Warriors Cats' series by Erin Hunter but is not directly related to it in anyway. One of the moderators on this site has given me permission to post it here as it didn't fit in the off-topic fiction section too well! Thank you! Carry on with your reading!
Characters:
Sylvester: a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes.
Eliza: a mottled brown she-cat with amber eyes.
Indy: a pale creamy-brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.
Riley: a light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.
Lexie: a brown she-cat with amber eyes.
Carmella: a smoky gray she-cat with amber eyes.
Mocha: a white tom with amber eyes.
Fred: a black-and-brown patched tom with amber eyes.
Domino: a black-and-white she-cat with greenish-yellow eyes.
Tom: a brown-and-white tabby tom with yellow eyes.
Esme: a light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes.
Clyde: a large, brown-and-white tabby tom with amber eyes.
Jet: a black tom with green eyes.
Addie: a tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes.
Sage: a silver-and-white tabby she-cat with blue eyes.
Igneous: a dilute calico she-cat with blue eyes.
Holly: a black she-cat with green eyes.
Blossom: a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with green eyes.
Lenny: a brown tabby tom with yellow eyes.
Patsy: a black-and-white she-cat with green eyes.
Ginger: a ginger tabby she-cat with green eyes.
Flynn: a white-brown-and-black patched tom with amber eyes.
Pete: a black-and-white spotted tom with one green eye.
Phoebe: a brown she-cat with amber eyes.
Snowdrop: a white she-cat with blue eyes.
Pierre: a black tom with amber eyes.
Samson: a large, brown tabby tom with a graying muzzle and yellow eyes.
Dolly: a Siamese she-cat with blue eyes.
Lina: a gray-and-white tabby she-cat with green eyes.
Autumn: a black she-cat with blue eyes.
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beech
Holiday Reindeer
Thanks for the 500 rep!
Posts: 27,609
|
Post by beech on Nov 23, 2015 23:41:53 GMT -5
Prologue:
A small, brown-and-white tabby tom looked down at a dark gray she-cat that was curled up tightly around three kittens; one was a thin, black tom with eyes the color of the sun; one was a small, brown tabby with eyes the color of the sky; the final kitten was a large, dark brown tabby with eyes that were almost the color of mud. Out of all the kittens, the final one was the most peculiar, looking nothing like their mother or father.
The small, brown-and-white tabby tom, Thorn, looked down at his mate and kits with worry and anxiety in his bright yellow eyes. 'They aren't doing very well,' he thought to himself, 'Shade especially; having kits has taken a lot out of her.' It didn't help the fact that his housefolk weren't there to feed him and his family, so they had to rely on whatever he could catch, which, honestly, wasn't much.
Thorn lifted his gaze so that he was looking into the cloudy sky; the threat of snow was looming over them like a cloud. Without the normal fat store that the cats would have during the Winter, their bodies wouldn't have much protection against the cold other than their thin pelts.
'Whoever resides over all cats,' Thorn thought, 'Please protect my family until the humans come back. I just couldn't bear to lose them like I've lost everything else.' As if answering his thoughts, the sky gave a low rumble, and lightning struck the spot just in front of Thorn's people's den.
"Thorn," a weak mew sounded from beside him. He turned his small head to look at Shade, whose blue eyes were closed only halfway, "Thorn, I'm not going to make it, am I?" She didn't wait for him to reply as she continued, "I'm obviously not. Then, will they not make it either?" She looked down at their kits.
"Don't talk that way," Thorn meowed, nervously, glancing down at his mate then looking around at all the land around them, "Of course you'll survive! We do this every Winter!"
"Not with kits," she meowed, "We should have known that we couldn't have kits in the Winter-time. How could we be so stupid?"
"It's not our fault!" Thorn stammered, "It's theirs; they shouldn't have left us knowing that we had kittens to take care of. If anything, they should have brought the kittens with them." One of the kittens, the smallest one, which they had named Tim, let out a shrill mew which was probably fueled by hunger. The sound made Thorn's heart thud in his chest dully.
"Don't try to deceive me, Thorn," Shade meowed, "I'm not stupid, whatever you may think. I know that the probability of us surviving if slim to none." Thorn's heart thudded quicker.
"Of course I don't think you're stupid," Thorn meowed, lowering his head to rasp his tongue over his mate's forehead comfortingly, "But I don't want you to talk so negatively. I know they don't know what we're saying quite yet, but they know when something's wrong."
"What's so wrong with speaking the truth?" Shade hissed, "They have to realize the harsh reality of life sometime; cats die. It's inevitable!" Thorn's eyes widened.
"They're only kits, Shade! Do you want them to learn this so soon?" he asked. Shade's eyes twinkled with an unknown emotion.
"Thorn, you're not understanding," she meowed, "We don't have a choice in this situation. If it comes to it, I need you to choose them over me." Thorn's eyes widened again.
"Shade you can't be serious! I could never choose something over you," he meowed, "Even if they are our kits."
"You can't be serious, Thorn! I couldn't live without my kits," she meowed, looking down at them, "Please, don't make me make the choice." Thorn shook his head and laid down next to his mate and their kits.
"It's not going to come to that, I promise," he meowed, "I'll find a way to save all of us."
Chapter One:
Sylvester woke up in his soft nest inside of his housefolks' den. As was the case, the past few weeks, his housefolk were not present, though Sylvester didn't know where they were, or how much longer they would be gone. It had been like this for as long as Sylvester could remember; his housefolk always left in the Winter. He could almost recall them calling it "vacationing" but he couldn't be sure.
All of their stuff was gone as well, other than his nest and the bowls of food that resided in the area where the housefolk ate. Sylvester's food bowl was always empty around this time, however, he couldn't remember a time when his housefolk had been gone for this long. It was deeply troubling for him.
Sylvester stood up, shakily, and shook out his thick tabby pelt. He could feel a flea biting near his shoulder, but he couldn't reach that area and he had no one to help get rid of it, so he decided to ignore the irritating biting that he felt in that general area. It was a difficult thing to ignore, though.
He sighed before walking over to his food bowl and looking down into it. It was empty, as it had been for a long while now. Sylvester's stomach let out a loud grumble, and he looked down at it; it looked abnormally sunken in to him, but it could've just been his perspective. It let out another grumble, and he winced as he felt a sharp pang of pain.
Sylvester looked outside; there was fresh snow on the ground that glistened as sunlight bore down onto it. Beyond the backyard was a large, wooden fence that managed to keep Sylvester trapped in the backyard if he tried to get out; he had never really tried to get beyond the fence though.
Sylvester was suddenly filled with a memory; a dark gray, almost black, she-cat with a familiar scent curled up next to him, filled with life and warmth that Sylvester had otherwise been lacking. Then, almost in an instance, the feeling of life and warmth faded from the she-cats pelt.
Sylvester shook his head; the memory of his mother dying had always haunted him, but all that Sylvester wanted to do was forget it. He'd barely known his parents, since his mother had died when he was still a kit, and his father left him with the twolegs when he was just a young cat. He had never forgiven his father for abandoning him with them, but at the same time, Sylvester had a sense of understanding; not a day went by where Sylvester didn't want to escape.
Sylvester had also lost his two brothers, Jack and Tim, when he was younger. They weren't dead, this he was sure of, but rather, his housefolk had given them to other housefolk, and he never saw them anymore. The fact that he had no family left, always made Sylvester upset.
Having a sudden idea, Sylvester walks to the other door in the areas of the house that he could access. There was a small door on the door that was slightly transparent, and Sylvester could see outside through it. 'I wonder if I could knock this down and get outside. There's probably more food outside than there is inside,' he wondered to himself.
The sound of chirping was audible from outside, but so was a loud roaring noise, which Sylvester realized was the noise of construction; he'd heard his housefolk talk about construction a lot, as his male owner was apparently in the business of construction. Sylvester could also hear the chatter between two people; more than likely humans.
Sylvester pushed up against the door, feeling it slightly budge under his slim weight. He then pressed more pressure onto it and he heard a loud 'Snap!' before he was flung outside onto the wooden front porch.
Sylvester shook his head, snow falling off of his nose and head. He'd never really been outside, as his humans liked to keep him inside, and the only time he had been out here was as a kit, and when his mother had died. Sylvester winced at the bad memory.
Sylvester remembered how cold it had been then, colder than now, and was glad that it wasn't that bad anymore. It was probably the fact that his pelt had become thicker since then, and he was no longer a tiny kitten.
Sylvester stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. There was a line of wooden steps leading down into the thick snow below, making Sylvester feel nervous as he'd never been able to walk up or down stairs before. It wasn't that he was incapable, but more that he'd never had the opportunity to as his housefolk's house was one-story tall.
He put one paw down on the first step, and then put another one down. He was relieved to find out that it didn't collapse under his weight, and he stepped down until he was completely standing on the first step. Then, he jumped down until he was standing in the snow, which reached far up his legs.
Sylvester shuddered irritably; he despised the feeling that the slushy snow was clinging to his paws and legs. Every time he went to start walking, more snow piled around his paws. He wondered if this was how it felt to drown.
When he had finally managed to clamber onto the semi-cleared sidewalk, where there wasn't much snow, he felt very relieved. However, the hard ground hurt his paws, and he found himself wishing that he was back in the snow.
Across the street, a small black-and-white she-cat was walking with three grown cats behind her; one was a beautiful black she-cat with green eyes; one was a large, dilute calico she-cat; the last cat was a gorgeous silver-and-white tabby.
The black-and-white she-cat paused a moment, looking behind herself at the cats, before meowing something and continuing to walk.
Sylvester, remembering the reason that he'd even set off on this journey, walks up to them to ask them if they knew how to hunt, or, at the very least, knew someone who could teach him. However, when he approached them, they let out a high-pitched, threatening hiss and ran off.
Sylvester gave a small shrug, and looked around for someone else to help him. There was a ginger-and-white tabby sitting a few meters away, but Sylvester was too afraid to approach him, so he glumly walked back to his house without finding someone to help him.
As he was walking up the steps, he noticed a familiar brown tabby tom sitting on his porch, carelessly bathing himself. His fur shone as though it was recently bathed, and he was stretched out on Sylvester's porch.
"Who are you?" Sylvester asked, fluffing out his fur and baring his teeth in a threatening snarl, "And why are you on my porch?" The tom stood up, lazily stretching; his large stomach was blatantly obvious to Sylvester.
"Now now, youngster," the tom meowed, "There's no need to be so rude to an old friend."
"Old friend?" Sylvester asked, astonished, "I don't even know you!"
"Don't be so sure," the cat meowed, regretfully, as a look of mournfulness and shame crept into his eyes. Oh, how Sylvester wanted to make him feel better!
Trying to remain strong in front of the intimidating cat, who, despite being smaller than Sylvester, made him still scared, he meowed, "Who are you, I repeat?"
"I go by many names," the tom began, "Most commonly, Samson."
"Samson," Sylvester replied, "My name i-"
"I know what your name is," Samson meowed, dipping his head respectfully, "Forgive me for the interruption, but I don't have much time. My mate is expecting me home, and my housefolk will get worried if I don't return soon."
"Alright," Sylvester meowed, "Did you need something, or do you just do this to everyone's porch?" Samson flicked one of his ears.
"I couldn't help but notice your lack of food," Samson meowed, "I can tell by your sunken in stomach." Sylvester ran his long, fluffy tail over his stomach.
"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, defensively. Samson lashed his tail, seeming offended, and Sylvester wished that he could apologize, but couldn't get himself to do it.
"Perhaps, if you agree to do something for me, I could teach you to hunt, along with other things that may come in handy some day," Samson meowed. Sylvester narrowed his eyes.
"It depends on what you would have me do," Sylvester meowed, suspiciously.
Samson dipped his head. "I once made a promise to an old friend," Samson meowed, tears welling up in his eyes, "Unfortunately, that friend will not be around to see that promise be fulfilled." A tear fell down his cheek.
Sylvester bowed his head in respectful and dull pain. "I know what it's like to lose someone as well," Sylvester meowed, sympathetically.
"I know," Samson meowed, not elaborating, "The promise was that I would get a group of cats to work together, so we would no longer have to deal with the humans anymore."
Sylvester's eyes widened. "That's a mouse-brained idea!" Sylvester blurted out, "Who could survive without humans?"
"Don't be naive!" Samson meowed, "It had been done before and will be done again time and time again."
Sylvester bowed his head, giving up on arguing. It seems hopeless to me! Sylvester thought to himself, But I need to learn to hunt and fight, and if it makes him feel better, then, let's just do it.
"Alright," Sylvester conceded, "I'll help you, so long as you help me." Samson looked like he realized Sylvester's motivation for agreeing, but did not comment further.
"Alright, let's meet up here again tomorrow morning," Samson meowed, looking at Sylvester for agreement.
"Sure," Sylvester agreed, looking around, and wondering how he was going to get back into his house. He barely noticed when Samson returned with a mouse in his jaws, dropping it at Sylvester's feet.
"Eat this, it should help you until tomorrow," Samson meowed, flicking his tail. Sylvester noticed him looking across the street at a pretty siamese she-cat.
"Is that your mate?" Sylvester asked, unaware as to why he felt a tinge of unease at Samson having a mate. That's none of my business! he thought to himself, It just seems wrong, is all..
"Yes, that's my mate. Her name is Dolly," Samson replied, "I'll see you tomorrow." He headed across the street to the she-cat and they went into their housefolk's den together.
Sylvester settled in to eat the scrawny mouse. He took a bite, his jaws watering from the wonderful taste. It may be thin, he thought to himself, But it sure tastes good! Especially after not eating for so long!
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Post by ThunderStorm on Dec 27, 2015 10:13:47 GMT -5
Thanks Sylv  Cats name: Violet Appearance: Light Creme fur with Brown paws, tail tip, ears, and chest, Silky fur and Amber eyes Personality: Shy, Quiet, Elegant, Smart, Gentle |
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