●▬▬▬▬𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓢𝒆𝓪▬▬▬▬▬● (Tuesday One-shot)

Dark pools and emptiness. That’s how it always starts. Closed eyes and soft footfalls. You are unaware of the danger, unaware what will happen as you walk through this place.


Then sharp colors stabs in your eye as they bloom and explode from the emptiness. Some colors spread slowly, drifting lazily in your attention. Others burst and move as if speed is what you should notice and nothing else. As each color leaves, you forget it. Your claws dig into the unseen earth as you try and stay still. You don’t want to be swept away by the lights. Blues of skies, greens of leaves, reds of blood and the sunsets, it is all the same to you. Your world is something that always changes.


Fade to black, to emptiness and nothingness. You float in the black sea of this world. Looking down, up, around, it makes no difference. All is the same. Your chest hurts a little, but you ignore it. The pain fades after a couple more seconds.


You walk endlessly, though your paws never tire. You are blown by unseen winds and swept away be unheard tides. You don’t care. You are simply along for the ride.


As you drift deeper into this world, the world that you have created, your senses scream. Colors bleed back into the world, dripping like rain into your head. You can feel the light tickle of a mouse in your nose, feel the soft brush of fur against your teeth. The hunt has finally come, after your long journey. You move forward, the forest fading around you as you walk. You sense that you have been here before and you know that this forest is large. Larger beyond even what you can even comprehend. Yet, as you look around, your sight blurs and you cannot see past the first three trees. But that doesn’t matter to you. This is the Hunt. You turn away, leaning your body into the old movements that you have learned ever since you were a kit. The Hunter’s Crouch. A warrior’s most needed skill. The scent of mouse plays with your sense of smell. It hints at green leaves and fat. You will eat heartily tonight.


You prick your ears, standing straight again. Something isn’t right. At that thought, something had broken. The forest seems to be growing smaller as something tickles at the back of your memory. Your stomach growls. Darkness grows in the forest, the green trees starting to look gray. Your senses are dulling and you look around for your mouse. You feel the great need to eat. You need food. But the mouse is nowhere to be seen.


Soft voices jerks you out of the forest. You enter the black sea again. No color and no world. You are semi-aware of what is happening and, as you become aware of what is happening, you move. Not your memory of yourself. Not the Hunter. No, it is the Sleeping Cat that is moving.


You raise your head, blinking sleep away from your mind. Your stomach aches with hunger and your pelt prickles with cold. The scent of mouse still hangs in your mouth, even as you hear your clanmates organizing much needed Leaf-Bare hunting parties.

Your stomach is empty, your pelt cold. As you stand, you are reminded how much one world changes from another. Warmth to cold, health to hunger. Awareness to dreams and back again.