Post by Quailfeather on Jul 30, 2016 19:33:23 GMT -5
~Prolog~
A light grey tom trekked through the cold snow. An icy wind blew through the air, rustling the branches and trees above his head.
He could hear the scuffle of mice as they scurried across the snow with a seed or two. Chipmunks ran up trees, their cheeks full with nuts.
His white paws blended in with the snow, but his pads had started to sting with the cold. His grey-blue eyes were soft as he watched the wildlife.
The whiskers on his blue face twitched as a little white fleck landed on his nose. It seemed as though leaf-bare would never end.
He looked up into the sky and he could barely make out the silhouette of the sun among the thick, dark clouds. He looked back down and continued his trek forward.
The trees cast shadows across the landscape, making the tom have to slit his eyes against the snow and darkness to get a better view. It was barely dawn.
He heard the screech of an owl in the distance, it would surely be sleeping by the time he reached where his paws were taking him.
The snow crackled beneath his paws accompanied by the sound of the sharp wind and the drum of branches. The tom enjoyed the sound of nature, especially when apprentices weren't running around making a ruckus.
The blue-point tom could hear the rush of water, dulled by a thick layer of ice. Smooth stones broke the ice and water lapped hungrily at them through the gaps that the rocks had made.
Suddenly, the ice melted in front of him and the figure of a cat was padding on the water. Not swimming, not wading, padding on the water. He could only make out the cat's paws which seemed to be made out of ice and snow.
Shadows appeared and it looked as though it were moonhigh. Suddenly, a small pile of leaves caught fire and the cat padded towards the land, off the water.
Words whispered in his ears, they seemed to be carried on the wind, "Frozen paws will tread blindly on water until fire lights the path," and then the voice was gone.
The tom's fur was ruffled as the river iced over and the fire disappeared. He knew it was a prophecy from starclan, he was sure of that.
"What in Starclan is that suppose to mean?" He asked himself, ending with a sigh. "They'll never speak clearly will they?"
He sat down and stared at the frozen river, letting the sounds around him fill his ears. He would need to interpret it before bringing it up with Crowstar, it would just be another thing for his leader to worry about.
He pondered on the words, not knowing what they were suppose to mean. Frozen paws, did it mean Blackcough? And the fire, fire was never a good sign, it always brought death and destruction, he couldn't figure out what good it would do.
The light grey tom got to his paws, shaking his head, and started for camp. The words of the prophecy echoing in his ears.
He could hear the scuffle of mice as they scurried across the snow with a seed or two. Chipmunks ran up trees, their cheeks full with nuts.
His white paws blended in with the snow, but his pads had started to sting with the cold. His grey-blue eyes were soft as he watched the wildlife.
The whiskers on his blue face twitched as a little white fleck landed on his nose. It seemed as though leaf-bare would never end.
He looked up into the sky and he could barely make out the silhouette of the sun among the thick, dark clouds. He looked back down and continued his trek forward.
The trees cast shadows across the landscape, making the tom have to slit his eyes against the snow and darkness to get a better view. It was barely dawn.
He heard the screech of an owl in the distance, it would surely be sleeping by the time he reached where his paws were taking him.
The snow crackled beneath his paws accompanied by the sound of the sharp wind and the drum of branches. The tom enjoyed the sound of nature, especially when apprentices weren't running around making a ruckus.
The blue-point tom could hear the rush of water, dulled by a thick layer of ice. Smooth stones broke the ice and water lapped hungrily at them through the gaps that the rocks had made.
Suddenly, the ice melted in front of him and the figure of a cat was padding on the water. Not swimming, not wading, padding on the water. He could only make out the cat's paws which seemed to be made out of ice and snow.
Shadows appeared and it looked as though it were moonhigh. Suddenly, a small pile of leaves caught fire and the cat padded towards the land, off the water.
Words whispered in his ears, they seemed to be carried on the wind, "Frozen paws will tread blindly on water until fire lights the path," and then the voice was gone.
The tom's fur was ruffled as the river iced over and the fire disappeared. He knew it was a prophecy from starclan, he was sure of that.
"What in Starclan is that suppose to mean?" He asked himself, ending with a sigh. "They'll never speak clearly will they?"
He sat down and stared at the frozen river, letting the sounds around him fill his ears. He would need to interpret it before bringing it up with Crowstar, it would just be another thing for his leader to worry about.
He pondered on the words, not knowing what they were suppose to mean. Frozen paws, did it mean Blackcough? And the fire, fire was never a good sign, it always brought death and destruction, he couldn't figure out what good it would do.
The light grey tom got to his paws, shaking his head, and started for camp. The words of the prophecy echoing in his ears.
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