Posts : 181
Join date : 2013-07-06
Age : 101
|Subject: Where We Belong. Chapter 7. Sat Jul 27, 2013 11:10 pm|| |
Storm's lime gaze stared into Rye's own olive pools. Storm whimpered and Rye heard a loud crack behind him, followed by a nasty snarl. Rye looked terrified, and for a second, Storm thought that he planned to whimper. Where did they have to go? Rye could only run forward, off the slippery cliff. Storm could only run forward, into the dastardly wolf's jaws. How would they survive this horrible day of misfortune? Though, only one of them would be willing to successfully risk their live for a friend. If you knew these two characters well enough, you would understand. Storm was the only one who cared that much. Rye was just too... Rye would never care about anyone other than himself, and that was obvious. Storm knew that, which is why he committed the following. He leaped at the wolf, letting out a fierce yowl. He unsheathed in paw in air, slapping it across the beast's muzzle. Rye cried out and ran to the right, almost slipping off the cliff numerous times. Rye couldn't think about Storm or only chose to think about himself at that time. He thought he was in real danger, balancing against the edge of the cliff. Though, Storm was the one in trouble.
Storm had been trying to turn the wolf, seeing as he was against the edge otherwise. He was already panting heavily, his lungs tired of supporting his frame. He had already been out of breath before the battle, seeing as he was in the freezing cold. It was already hard to breathe, through the frozen and thick air. He lashed forward again, only this time, he had a partner. Rye leaped under the wolf, trying to claw his stomach into rivets. Though, that did Rye a very small amount of good. Practically none at all. The snowy canine stomped down on Rye, sending the older tom away in rapid successions of whimpers. He was in a very clear manner or amount of pain. Storm paused to snarl after him, his emerald eyes flashing with anger. "You coward! You no good mouseheart! I hate you and you wonder why!" He was swept away by a very large or giant paw, making him cry out in pain. Rye paused, turning to stare after his very bloodied friend. Could he really leave him to die, all on his own? Was this cat really his friend? Did Storm even want his help? Was Storm still angry? Would he still be angry if I saved him? Was Storm gone for good? All these questions raced through his mind at the same time and he closed his eyes, listening to the quick pulse of his heart. Then, the answer came to mind.
His viridian eyes blazed in anger and he raced forward, letting out the loudest screeching battle cry Storm had ever heard. He leaped onto the beast's back, latching on with teeth and claws. He tore into the wolf's ears, ripping them and trying to shred them. He traced both his claws over the snowy monster's eyes, listening to it yipe. Storm ran under it, looking for a weaker spot to attack. Storm reached up latching onto it's pure chest fur and clawed. It howled in pain and Storm fell, kicked across the snow. It went to tear into him, and he had fully accepted his death by then. He felt the whole world tilt as he lay there, blurred beyond belief. Though his horrible vision he could still spot... Were those cats? Those darker blurs that seemingly vanished from time to time as they came closer? He lay there, feeling the brute's teeth began to dig into his soft pelt... Yes, they were! A black and white patched she-cat, limber and tall, bound over him and attacked the wolf. A tabby she-cat, an odd mixture of pure ivory and the darkest of ebony, vaulted over him and followed the she-cat. Then the last, a chunky and heavy set tom with the brightest brass fur he had ever seen, bit the wolf right on the nose.
The barbarian cried out, leaping away in surprise. All of the cats who assembled to fight it, for now including Rye, also fell. Rye looked particularly weary of them, but accepted their obvious invitation. It was weird, how some species could communicate completely with tail flicks and the gaze of an eye. The black and white tabby she-cat murmured something, her baby blue gaze staring back at Rye. Rye's lips lifted into an entrusting snarl, with no noise. Or, maybe he couldn't hear anything. He didn't care and wouldn't, seeing as everything was slowly fading into black.
He woke, in his nest. Or at least, he thought it was. It was so much more softer, so much more... What was the word? He lay flat out, his head crashed against the floor. Wow, pain shot up his side as he even moved his head. It all hurt so much. All of it, nothing even in particular. Many of the tribe cat were attending their own business, the kits playing with their siblings and ignoring the almost dead cat in the middle of the cave. He turned, despite his obvious afflictions. Rye was there.... Staring down at him. Why? The last he had seen, the wolf was savaging him and Rye. How was Rye O- He wasn't. He figured that out, as Rye was talking and he had turned, showing him four dark and hairless spots on his dark colored tabby coat. He had been hurt too, apparently... How badly? Rye looked bruised and his eyes... His eyes. They lost his natural lust for life, but how long had that been gone? Why did they look so sad? Did he feel bad.... For him? I thought Rye was too busy for me, he thought.
He pointed to his long ears, really confused as to why Rye was mouthing words. Why wouldn't he just talk. He opened his own mouth to speak, saying something. He cried out, unknowingly. Why wouldn't he hear himself?! What was wrong with him? Was he... deaf? His eyes were covered in tears and soon, Rye got the message. It made more sense and partially would explain why Storm wasn't making any sense. He sounded horrible, too. He was trying to tell him about the cats who had come to save him. Storm and Rye hadn't met them yet, but they were among the most elite of the clan. It was 'unspoken' as Turtle of Foggy Pond had said, but they were the best and were treated like so. Storm Where Snow Falls is the best hunter and the daughter of Teller of White Clouds. Fang of Growling Lion is Storm Where Snow Falls brother and the best guard of the clan. Though, Teller of White Clouds was not to have kits, she loved her two all the same. Tiger of Falling Water was the best of both worlds- A skilled hunter and a gifted guard. She was beautiful, as well. Swooping Crane had decided that would be his next best shot at getting in good with everyone and had taken to flirting with her. Once again, he heard this all from Turtle of Foggy Pond, which was something he needed to remind himself.
Rye and Storm locked eyes once again, as they had. Rye would never be able to apologize. Storm would never be able to accept it.
Posts : 45
Join date : 2013-06-10
Age : 25
Location : Flying around in the magical land of Harelandia
|Subject: Re: Where We Belong. Chapter 7. Wed Jul 31, 2013 9:08 pm|| |
Personally love the cliff hanger before storm blacks out. May I hit Swooping Crane in the head with a frying pan?