A Harsh Life Remembered

Have you got a game, book or movie you'd like to make a story out of? Want to expand on a story or plot that stopped? Have an original idea for a story that you want to post somewhere? Here's where to do it. Basically an RPG where one player controls ALL characters in the story.

A Harsh Life Remembered

Postby Hopeflower » Sat Mar 20, 2010 11:41 am

Huh? Who are you? I don’t know your scent. Are you a rogue? A loner? Well, whatever you are, how did you end up here? This isn’t territory where many rogues have walked before. …Where are you? You’re in StarClan’s hunting grounds. Ah, I see by your flinch you’ve heard of us. The ancestors of the Clans. No, you’re not dead…I think. You’re probably just dreaming, little wanderer. When you wake up you’ll be as alive as ever.

…Who am I? My name is Bloodspill. Don’t mind the wings – everyone gets used to them eventually. No, I wasn’t born with them. I was born an average, everyday cat who you probably wouldn’t have given a second glance. Well, except for the eyes. The only other cat I saw who was born with red eyes was Darkstorm, a ShadowClan cat. And then there was Demontalon – but I won’t talk about her without her knowing.

Where was I born? Getting a little personal, aren’t we? No, don’t flatten your ears. It’s alright. It’s only natural to be curious. Come over here, where the moss is thicker on the ground. Comfortable, isn’t it? This spot is often argued over. The softer moss makes it a popular resting place.

Lie down, it’s alright. No one will harm you here. Come closer. You’re curious, aren’t you?

Now…I was born in an alley. Yes, in a Twolegplace. I remember the reek of Twolegs, their monsters, dogs, and trash. It wasn’t the most pleasant of places. My mother often told my siblings and I not to stray too far, and we never really felt the urge to wander. You wouldn’t have either – don’t make that face. The place was more dangerous than you can imagine.

My mother – her name was Lithium – was as smart as she was fierce. She considered the risks of every decision she had to make before she made it. It’s one of the reasons we survived as long as we did. Did I die there? No. I survived the longest out of my siblings…because I ran. But I’ll get to that eventually.

We grew up not knowing our father. We knew of him, but Lithium never gave his name, and never offered an explanation as to why he wasn’t around. I think we assumed he was dead. She did, however, tell us what he looked like – very dark gray pelt, ice blue eyes. Lithium herself was a black cat, with sky blue eyes. My whole family was pretty dark-colored, actually.

I mentioned I had siblings. My sister was named Darkbird – and my brother, Nightmoon. Darkbird was the hyper one. She shared our father’s dark gray pelt – but there was a splash of white on her muzzle, her tail tip was lighter gray, and one of the toes on her right front paw was white. She was always a few steps ahead of herself, eager to leap in without knowing exactly what she was getting into. As she got older, she became a little more cautious, but while she was a kit Lithium had to drag her away from plenty of dangers, including Thunderpaths and sleeping dogs. My brother, on the other paw, was calm and level-headed. He actually thought about things before he charged off, not unlike our mother. He considered the risks of biting Lithium’s tail while she slept, too. What? I’m not saying it was me who did it! He was black, with a dark gray underbelly. I was the only one who was pure black with eyes the color of blood.

We learned a lot from Lithium – how to find food that was edible among Twoleg trash, how to hunt (not that there was a lot to catch), and how to be stealthy, using our dark pelts to our advantage. This came in handy very often. Night was the time when we could comfortably stay in the open; the dogs were shut in, there weren’t many other Twolegs and other cats around, and even if there were, the shadows hid us well.

When we were nearing our second year, tragedy struck. A pack of dogs stumbled across our den when we were half-asleep. It was a disaster. Nightmoon was snatched first. I can still hear his wails as the dogs tore him apart. I don’t know when exactly he stopped screaming. I only know that somewhere along the line, Lithium yowled at Darkbird and I to run, run as fast as we could.

It wasn’t fast enough. One of the dogs caught my sister by the leg and dragged her back. Lithium spat furiously and turned to fight – I kept running. I clawed my way up a high wall, and made the mistake of looking back. I saw my own mother ripped to shreds by huge, unforgiving teeth. Horror-struck, I found myself unable to move as my only family was destroyed.

I stayed on that wall for half a day, listening to the dogs barking and howling, trying to find a way to get to their prey – me. I stared at what was left of my mother…my sister…my brother. I would have stayed there until they did, if I hadn’t met Maero. He was an older cat, a big white tom. He snapped me out of my daze unsympathetically. “They’re gone, kit,” he said gruffly. “And there’s nothing to be done about it.”

He let me follow him to where he was living. He told me that I could stay for three moons – no more. That was enough. And that was all it took to reach two years of age. The time I spent with him is – blurred. The days just melt into one another. None of it was remarkable…in fact, it was probably the second period of normalcy in my life. When the three moons were up, Maero just left. He told me not to follow, and I didn’t try. I never saw him again, but I won’t forget him.

Not long after that, I met a tom. His name was Ice. He was…the most extraordinary cat I’d ever seen. His heart was the purest a cat’s could get. He offered to show me to his home, where I would be safe until I wanted to leave. I stayed with him for four moons…and before I knew it, I was in love with him. When I realized it, I was horrified. I’d never wanted a mate. I’d never given toms a second glance. I tried to explain that I had to leave; he wouldn’t let me.

“I’ve never had a friend like you,” he said to me. His green eyes were wide, pleading. “Please, stay a while longer.” I tried to refuse, but somewhere along the line the words turned into “Just a little longer.”

Inside, I was crushed. He’d only called me a friend. He only thought of me as a friend. We would only ever be…friends. I decided that night to make the “little while” a week. The days passed in a haze of pain. Rejection hurt more than a physical wound.

When I said again that I had to leave, he stopped me. “Wait. There’s something I’ve got to say.”

I growled, “Let me leave. We have nothing to say to each other anymore.”

He hesitated, before he said, “Bloodspill, I – there’s never been another cat like you. Not as – as beautiful or brave or…wonderful as you are. I think….I might be in love with you.” To say I was shocked would be a bit of an understatement. Ice went on hurriedly, “And if you want to leave, that’s – that’s fine. I won’t follow. I just – wanted you to know.”

But I didn’t leave. I just stared into his green eyes – eyes that you could drown in, if you weren’t careful – and whispered that I loved him too. He looked surprised, and unbelievably happy. One of us moved – I don’t remember who – and then he was covering my face and ears with licks, a loud purr rumbling in his throat. I wanted to stay like that forever.

Ice and I only had one kit – a tiny black tom. We decided to name him Swift. We had two moons of relative peace. Two moons of perfection. Then Ice disappeared. I couldn’t understand why – he went hunting one day…and never came back. When I went to look for him, I found only a faint trace of his scent.

I found his unmoving body by a Thunderpath a few days later.

The shock made it difficult to breathe. My mate…my love…was dead. I remember falling to the ground, pleading for him to open his eyes. I couldn’t believe it…things had finally been looking up, for the first time since my mother and siblings were killed. My world was shattering…for the second time.

Eventually I went back to our home. To our son. The last connection I had to my beloved. I kept him fed and safe…until leaf-bare came. Swift became very ill. I did my best to nurse him back to health, but I was forced to admit defeat. He wasn’t going to get better. He was going to die…like his father. Like Lithium. Like Darkbird and Nightmoon.

Like every cat that had ever meant something to me.

Did I know that around this time, I’d be captured by Twolegs? No. Did I know I’d be taken to a place that would be hell on earth for a lot of cats? Nope. Did I know that after a while, I’d be top cat, be expected to mate with a cat who already had a mate, and meet two cats who would change my life forever? Wait for it – no. Did I want any of it? No. I’d rather have been anywhere else – with my family, with Ice, with our son – and I could feel myself changing. Hardening myself to the point where it felt like I had a heart made of ice.

I started acting like it, too. Trying to kill Skye’s mate, Tyrant – the cat I was expected to mate with. Acting cold towards anyone and everyone who spoke to me, tried to get to know me. I didn’t want to take the risk of getting attached…of experiencing more heartbreak.

But over time, I did get attached. To Snowclaw, as he was known back then. To Hawksight, who now hunts these skies as well. To Claw, who was one of the best friends I’d ever had. To Firestreak, who I wish nothing but the best for. To Swift, to my other kits. To ThunderClan.

You know…if I could relive my life…up to the point I met ThunderClan, I wouldn’t change a day. Because what happened back then made me who I am today.

But the wings. The wings. Again I am reminded of how cruel Twolegs can be. I don't know what they did to me, how they gave me my wings. I only know they took me away from my home and locked me up again for the purpose, it would seem, of doing so. Two cats from each of the four Clans were caught. Seven made it out again - one died there. I don't know how exactly - but I remember days of agony, the pain in my shoulders as wings grew in where there were never meant to be wings. The rage of being captured and watching Smokestorm go through the same agony...it was a battle we each had to fight alone.

I get the impression that cats still aren't quite used to it...seeing us with wings. Some of us are still around, you know - not all died when the Clans were wiped out.

You're looking like you're about to wake up. No wonder why - the sun is coming up. We've been here all night.

Goodbye, little wanderer…remember me.

I hope we won’t have to meet again.
"Gotta have a little sadness once in a while so you know when the good times come."
"Talent is a pursued interest. In other words, anything that you're willing to practice, you can do." ~ Bob Ross

"The future is always uncertain and painful but it must be lived." ~ Unknown
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