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Post by Shad on Sept 14, 2015 5:26:52 GMT
The forest was alive with music. The dark trees groaned and crackled out with their old voices, lending wordless wisdom to the song of strength and patience as the shecat darted between their vast trunks. The leaves scattered, dancing beautiful patterns in the air as her paws sent them flying and tinkling like chimes, full of laughter and reminding the trees that life could be short, that the song held sweetness for today, not just the years to come. The wind whistled, tickling the shecat's ears with its own howling verse of swiftness and flight that set a steady pulse to the song. The ferns and bushes clattered a soft reedy tune of caution and bravery that made the shecat's heart soar with pride. Sunlight flashed against her brilliant blue eyes, burning her tabby fur and nearly blinding in its staccato clangs that darted between the trees like a mischievous child slipping into the old wood's darkened song to sprinkle it with unbridled merriment and light. The shecat grinned madly as she ran faster. She was part of the song too. Her paws thundering against the grass set a rhythmic drumbeat to the forest's wild, formless music as she raced forward. The faster she moved, the faster the song, and the faster the beat of her own heart that trembled with the force of the chorus that the world pulsed with all around her. A fast, hard chorus, but at the same time oh so painfully slow. The chorus of the wood. The chorus of her heartbeat. The chorus of life. The dark brown shecat burst out of a line of trees into a meadow torn asunder by a bubbling stream that giggled and sloshed with delight. Summit dropped down into a roll to break her speed and allow herself to stop with a gleeful bounce. She gasped for air, her lungs burning with the ferocity of her run, but her mouth spread wide with a grin not even the curved moon could match when it rose in the evening. Her blue eyes were wild and glowing with life as she looked up to the tom that had been waiting for her, as large and welcoming as the mountains of her home. She ran the few taillengths over to him and shoved her head against his shoulder in jubilation, letting him feel the excitement of her heartbeat, purring with laughter and delight that poured out from her chest almost as loud as the forest's song. "Daddy, you must run with me! You must! The forest is alive and the trees are filled with magic!" she proclaimed excitedly. It might have surprised an onlooker to see so large and well-grown a cat to address her father so childishly. A passerby would have been even more surprised to learn this was due to the shecat still being very much a child herself, and not just in her heart. Despite her considerable size, she was hardly four moons of age. With both a mother and father the size of mountains, Summit had been destined to grow large soon, but already she was the size of a clan apprentice. Still, her size had never seemed to be a concern for her or her father. Likely because they had been alone. They had been safe. Summit had been attempting to get her father to bring her to the forests for some time now. How she had longed to hear their song, to know if it sounded the same as the pure, cold tune that had wrapped around her as a kit in the mountains. Finally, he had relented. They had come to brush only the merest edge of the darker forest where few cats dared to tread. This posed no trouble for the large couple though. Her father, Stone was powerful and unafraid. And his daughter, Summit had yet to learn what fear was. Stone seemed very reluctant to go further into the woods, as if he worried something in it would find them. Or they would find her. Either way, Summit remained clueless to her father's displeasure as she celebrated the joy that was to be found in a new song. Growing up alone, Summit had fully embraced the lives around her. The life of earth. The life of air. The life of water. All of them sang the most beautiful songs that the young shecat yearned to hear always. She looked up to her father, her eyes wide with innocence and love. Her voice was merry in the air as she purred to sing of her joy and happiness that came off every calico hair on her pelt in a brilliant shower of warmth. |
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 14, 2015 21:16:11 GMT
Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?
Vast and empty and oh so endlessly blue did the sky expand above the forest. Crisp air, crunching leaves underpaw. That ever so persistant tug of howling wind through thick fur. The scents of leaf mould rose heady from the earth and trails of rain clung fresh to ancient bark. The seasons were shifting, and the world along with them. Autumn had always been a time of change, but Stone had never felt its golden tendrils as clearly as he did now. Thick air, heavy and deep and drenched with leaf moulde filled his lungs. Compared to the cold sparse of the mountains, stark with its stone and snow, it was as though the whole world had changed.
Perhaps it had.
Golden eyes opened slowly, drinking in the scene before him. Between a thick forest of pines and a vast meadow of flowers, he sat at the stark edge's stream. This world below the mountainrange was like nothing he'd ever seen. Even in his youth the forests and lands in which he'd lived had never been so varied. So empty, so full. It was breathtaking and terrifying, and Stone knew not yet what to do with it. What to do with these lands, what to do with his future. What to do with his daughter. But it had been her will to come here, and though Stone had been reluctant, eventually he had yielded. She had gone to the basin- or so the scent trail had read. And she had certainly left a thick one. But Stone would not be afraid, and he would not follow it. This land was wide, and their chances of running into one another would be slim.
And most of all, he would not be the father that his had been.
If his daughter wished to leave the mountains, Stone would bring her. It wasn't as though the highlands had been welcoming since her birth. Had they ever been? Memories muddled with age, especially when they were formed on fleeting sleep and lost time. That in itself had to be a clear sign. All that remained of those towering peaks in his mind was darkness. Horrible memories of both himself and others. Scars both old and new, and reminders of the cat that he would never dare to become again. They had left, and they could not go back. Looking out across the golden fields before him, dark shadows at his back, and lilaic peaks dotting the distance, Stone knew that even if they could, he wouldn't want to. Where their life would go from here he did not know. But whatever became of them, it had to be better than what had been. He would make sure of that.
Thundering pawsteps from the forest at his back brought an attentive perk to silvery ears. But Stone did not stand. He recognized that scent, light as the wind and green as the pines. A smile rose to the tom's face as he waited. He wasn't kept in anticipation- moments later the cat he'd just expected burst forth from the treeline. A flurry of brown fur and bright blue eyes and laughter like a waterfall, tumbling forth through the grasses and into the creek like boulder. A very energetic bubbly boulder. Wistful copper eyes turned to warmth and a deep laugh rumbled in the tom's throat as he watched his daughter slosh about, motions jubilant without a care in the world. That was her. The light of his life. Summit. Stars but she'd gotten big! The mountain did rise to his paws as she moved to press her face to his shoulder, shoving his own down against her with a thundering purr. Her happiness clung to her pelt like static, and it couldn't help but rub off on the older cat.
"Must I, now?" he questioned, amusement in his voice and a swish in his tail. He should hope it was easier to run here than in the alps. And it made him happy to see her so excited. It had been a good choice coming here, Stone decided. "What manner of magic is it? Dangerous, or benign?" he dropped his head low and shifted into a stance, a mock growl rumbling in his throat as he matched his height with hers. But his eyes were wide and bright with play. It looked a bit silly, such a massive cat crouched half his size despite Summit already having grown so large (only four moons, he still couldn't get over it. How had she grown so quickly?), but Stone didn't care. He liked it, even. Always had he loved kits, and it had only been after they'd finally left their home that he'd been able to show it. It had only been after they'd finally left their home that he was at long last, able to be himself. Or at least try to be, piecing the portrait together from shreds. To learn who he was anew. To start over, living for nobody but he and his family. And it was so incredibly freeing.
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Post by Shad on Sept 21, 2015 22:45:17 GMT
The black in the kit's eyes spread wide at her father's change into a Stance, almost engulfing the brilliant blue of her harried gaze. Her breath had yet to come back to her from her run, but she still dropped into a battle crouch... of sorts. It was lopsided and she continued to bounce too much to truly settle into any sort of reliable stance. Maybe the patience needed to truly learn would come with time, or maybe it would not. Some cats simply never learned patience in battle and flitted around others like a host of adders in the grass, striking and vanishing before a claw could reach them. Summit liked that idea. She wanted to grow up to be as fast as the wind that swept over the land. Wind screamed out its heart song to the whole world, over mountain and forest, it made no difference. Summit wanted to be just like it when she grew up. "Definitely Dangerous," she growled, her young voice rough like pads scraping over stone, her body bristled with delight and mischief. "It cries out into the air like a crow's call, infecting all who hear it. It has called to me, Daddy, and now I will infect you!"Summit loved this game. Almost as much as running. She had to tag him with her paws before he tagged her. It was almost like chase. It was almost like fighting. It was play, but sort of training too. Her father said he would train her for real when she was older, but these small glimpses of what she might learn one day still made her heart pound and tail lash with excitement. She bared her teeth in a feral grin, little kit teeth sharp and gleaming. She let her paws lead her over the grassy bank as she circled the mountainous tom. She dared not look away. She had to be fast. So fast. Oh so fast. Fast like the tiny fish that darted faster than lightning to escape her paws in the river. Fast like the rabbit that no one could catch once it took to its paws. The shecat's tail swished and curled with excitement as she let the tag dance take her over. She listened to the whistle of the trees, but it was too slow. The cries of birds overhead caught her fancy for only a moment but they would too soon fade. No, she needed speed but she also needed fortitude if she wished to win. This was a new lesson for Summit, but one she was rapidly growing to love practicing. Fortitude meant time. It meant lasting. It meant going and going and never letting the weight of the world drag you down. Her ears prickled as she caught the sound of the rushing stream splashing its way onward against the rocks that tried to hold it back. Her paws itched and she felt her soul soar. The rhythmic splash, the harsh crash of tiny waves against immobile stone, but rapid rush of movement. Yes, this would be her dance. One of speed but also of relentlessness. She would be the river today, and let its song guide her. Grounded, the shecat flashed her fangs and dove forward to swipe her father's front left paw, but when he moved she was already using the momentum to tumble away and leap back to her paws from a safe distance. Her eyes flashed and her blood pounded. She darted forward again, as fast as the rain that fell from the sky. This time going for his tail, she was as fluid and liquid as the stream, twisting at the last moment to nip for his hind legs. It was less graceful than she wanted and she almost gave herself away completely when she tripped over her own paws, but her father said that would come with time. If he said so, then she trusted him. Summit felt the rush of the play pulse through her and she could not help the laughter that escaped out of her when she had to pant for breath as she slipped forward again, as relentless as the stream which sang her song. When she was younger, she had always gotten her father on the first try, but now she almost never did. She supposed he had made it easy for her when she was small, but Summit was big now! It was because of this that her father made it harder. Summit was proud every time she missed, because that meant her father was actually trying. It meant she had to push herself, she had to be swifter, had to work harder, had to be as light-footed and agile as the wind itself. Every dodge her father made was a sign of how much he believed she could grow-and every mark she landed was proof of how much she already had. |
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 23, 2015 15:39:23 GMT
Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?
Stone had to resist a grin as Summit copied his crouch. Far more tilted and much too jumpy for an actual battle stance. If she put her paws down fully for a moment, there might have been a few she was putting too much weight on. But bouncing like that it was impossible to tell. But- this was play. He had to remind himself sometimes not to think too hard on any one thing. None of it was real- yet. Summit had plenty of time to learn, and Stone delighted in teaching her through play and games. Real lessons could come later. He hoped that his daughter would never have to use any of their skills in real combat- but considering the world they lived in. Oh, knock it off you grump. Sometimes its nice to just relax and play a fun game. Another thing he had to remind himself to do.
"Truly?" he gasped, amber eyes flown wide. They quickly narrowed once more, determination and sorrow flashing in their depths. He loved getting into character. "How dare these evil magics do such a thing! Never will I be infected! I must free you from this curse!"
Shifting his weight from one side to another, Stone crouched low and stalked sideways around the kit. Head low, eyes dangerous. A terrifying sight to any other cat, maybe. But the play glinting in his gaze and the smile threatening to upturn his grimace portrayed a lack of any true malice. This was the game they played. Or, one of them. But it always seemed to be Summit's favorite. A game of tag with sheathed paws. On the outside it was a fun and strategic way to get a bit of exercise. But on the inside it trained reflexes, speed, and of course, that strategy. Summit would jump forward and try to tap him- but she had to be quick! For if she looked away just one moment, he would tap her.
When Summit had been young, he had let her win frequently. After all, what kind of monster would use their full strength when playing with a kit? He'd wanted to teach her. But now that she was older and larger- despite only nearing her fourth moon- Summit found her own source of encouragement. She was quicker. Smarter. He didn't have to let her win as often- now she could do it on her own. And it brought a proud warmth to the tom's chest as they circled around one another, each daring the other to make the first move. She was growing up so quickly.
"Do you think you can beat me, foul demon? I'll get rid of you and save Summit! Just you watch!"
The smell of pine and rain clung to his muzzle as they dashed back and forth, one after the other. Dodging left and right, striking at seemingly random but carefully calculated intervals. It was a dance, of sorts. Summit struck, Stone dodged. Stone struck back, Summit rolled out of the way just in time. The grasslands blew, the birds sang. This- this was what life was. This was what it was meant to be. Living and playing and enjoying life. Teaching and nurturing your kits instead of striking and sending them off on their own. Enjoying each day to the fullest, not constantly worrying about what torments the next hour would bring. Feeling the wind in your fur and a smile on your face. It was-
Getting absolutely distracted by your own thoughts and losing the game!
Or at least, totally handicapping yourself for the rest of it. Or getting tapped by your daughter on the paw while you're off in la la land. "I've been wounded!" he choked, pulling his front right paw close to his chest. She'd managed to tap him while he wasn't paying attention! Clever, clever. Were this a real fight, he would have never let himself get so distracted. But as it was.... Stone pulled his lips back, half a grimace half a wild smile. "You're doing well... But I still have some fight left in me!" The tom feigned injury, favoring his right side and moving more slowly. He'd have to get clever with his own moves now! She was getting better and better at this every day. And Stone couldn't be prouder. |
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