•° Timberpaw °• Dreamwalker • Flock Together I • Kitty Softpaws
[Under Their Nose is Active]
It was a bad idea to be out of camp alone. Especially with this tickle in her throat. Of course she knew that. But that wasn’t about to stop her. As the first rays of dawn began peeking over the horizon, a restless Timberpaw made her way out of camp. She had been unable to sleep, and felt her paws and chest pulling her somewhere. It had taken a bit of contemplation, but there was no shut-eye tonight. The worst that could happen was she’d get caught, and she wouldn’t do that. Not with every cat sleeping. It was easy to sneak out; it was as if she became a shadow in the forest, not making a single sound as she traversed the browning undergrowth.
She wasn't naive enough to try to go out without disguising her scent, which was pretty easy. All she had to do was roll in some rotting leaves and mud and, which she didn't exactly smell great, Timberpaw was confident she probably couldn't be tracked.
It took a bit of walking for her to find a large, open body of water surrounded by lush reeds. She’d heard of this place. Cattail Pond. ThunderClan had taken it from RiverClan before she was born, gave it back, then reclaimed it when RiverClan was exiled. Timberpaw sniffed at the odd plants, then batted at them with a paw. Huh.
As she slowly walked around, investigating the pond in the dim light, she felt a weight settle on her chest. It was hard to breathe. She crept toward the water’s edge and stuck a paw in, gingerly. The water was cold like ice, and as a shiver ran down her spine something new happened. She closed her eyes, and the world turned from night to day.
The young siamese sighed. He didn’t know what to feel right now. He was infuriated that his stupid humans had taken him to that awful place and ripped his claws out. He was confused — why? He had been a good kitty, only clawed on the carpet a few times! He couldn’t help it when his claws itched to be sharpened! But most of all, Bean was hungry. He hadn’t eaten since he’d escaped from his house several sunrises ago. He was starting to wish he hadn’t escaped. He should’ve just accepted his punishment and stayed.
A sharp inhale, then a stumble backwards made Timberpaw trip over her own feet and tumble over onto the ground with a hard thud. The calico felt a blossom of pain as she wrenched her shoulder at an odd angle. She let out a wheezing cough as the air was squeezed from her lungs. Something itched. Some itch she couldn’t scratch was inside her. Not just in her lungs, but in her whole body. Her head began to ache.
The wind stirred the gentle water … sending soft waves splishing on Beanpaw’s toes. He relished the feeling of the cool water … couldn’t help but sigh contentedly. It was a nice day, and he was by himself. … If someone came along, he could talk to them! And maybe take a swim with them in the pond, even … was kind of cold. But that was okay.
Her head was now throbbing with pain as if someone was trying to cleave her skull in two. She curled up into a ball and stuck her paws in her ears. Claws tried to saw her head in half, and Timberpaw let out a low, stifled whimper. She didn’t know what was happening, and her chest tightened even more. She coughed and wheezed, desperately trying to drink in air but couldn’t get any. No matter how hard she tried.
ah, cattail pond. … had a long, complex history with this little body of water, … still loved the tranquil air and rustling of the reeds. the gentle … the sandy shore? perfection.
it felt like cattail pond was … could truly relax and unwind. the warrior was laying down, front paws barely in the water, … to beansprout, cattail pond was a nice, lucky place where good things happened. maybe … unafraid to venture here, despite his current fear of wandering the territory alone. nothing could hurt him … good things have happened here.
Her thoughts were becoming splintered, incomplete. No, these weren’t her thoughts. Her mind was being invaded by some unknown force, trying immensely to cut her open, throat to belly, and watch her insides spill out so that it would have room to wiggle in. Timberpaw curled up as tightly as she could, hot tears streaming down her face. She still couldn’t breathe, and the world around was beginning to grow fuzzy.
a large smile … beansprout watched fawnpaw explore and discover. … explore every nook and cranny of a new place, … reliving many happy memories just by watching … before him. he hoped to, … pond just as special to fawnpaw as it was to him.
he couldn't help … feel so so proud of the little cat before him. with … smile, beansprout walked toward his companion … shoulder a small touch of his nose. "you did it!! … proud of you. maybe next time, … claws, though. it … easier," he joked lightheartedly.
All Timberpaw could feel was pain. White hot, searing pain that made her lose restraint and try to scream at the top of her lungs. This, of course, didn’t happen, seeing as she wasn’t getting any air. She just sounded like a dying mouse giving one last, pathetic squeak before it bled out. Timberpaw sobbed and wheezed and tried everything she could to end this torture. As she coughed, blood splattered onto the ground. As she unthinkingly unsheathed her claws and sunk them into her head, blood splattered onto the ground. As she rolled around, desperate to get away, she cut one of her back paws on a stone,and blood splattered onto the ground.
She could see nothing but black, hear nothing but the rush of blood in her ears and the weak sounds of her own wheezing. She could smell nothing but blood, taste nothing but blood. And could feel nothing but pain, hot and cold and stinging and numbing and never-ending.
… wasn't ready. Nausea … take over … an untraceable blob. Then, he felt … claws in … stomach. No, no. This wasn't … supposed to go. … gasp … splutter, … barely managed to stay on his paws. … blood started to drip … All semblance of strategy and plan left him … desperately fighting just to keep fighting. Not … honor, not … Clan, … to live. … exploded in a fury of blows … very vague shape … hoping to land … to stop her. Inky blackness … close in.
And, just like that, it was over.
She was her again. Alone in her body and in her mind. Able to cough just a few more times, then breathe in the freshest air she’d ever tasted. Her head stung where her paws had been, and upon looking at her claws in the dim light, she saw faint flecks of red. She licked her lips and tasted blood. A dull pain throbbed in her back paw. But it was over.
She laid there forever. She felt snow form a blanket on top of her, then melt with the springtime sun. She felt the scorching heat of summer burn her pelt to a crisp, then give way to autumn’s chill. Days, nights, sunrises, sunsets, moons, seasons – they all passed by as she lay there, only the quiet rattle of her breathing to keep her company. And then, she did the hardest thing. She stood up on shaky legs.
She was unwilling to go near that body of water, no matter how foul the metallic taste of blood made her mouth feel and no matter how much she knew she ought to wash off the blood that had dried on her head and leg. The sun had started to come up.
The apprentice walked quietly toward Sunkissed Creek to wash away her experiences. As the water slipped off her pelt, silently dripping back into the creek, so, too, did her identity, her purpose, everything she’d known.
The apprentice walked toward ThunderClan’s quarantine camp, feeling their breath rattle still in their throat. They couldn’t put it off any longer. They needed to be here. For their own safety, and for that of the rest of the Clan.
// closed; timber is now at the quarantine camp. \\
Re: Cattail Pond
