Post by bluebird on Sept 7, 2018 1:27:37 GMT
Dawn was when her thoughts overwhelmed. Not in the dark of midnight, or gloom of twilight, but the early morning hours haunted her. The cool mist that settled over the territory, the quiet hush all nature agreed upon. It was too still too calm. The peace was a lie, a dirty, filthy lie-
Echocall shook her head, as if to physically dislodge her brain from its current rabbit trail. In a cruel fit of humor she had awoken before the birds that day, and seemed to be one of the only conscious cats in the Mistclan grotto. There were the odd few up, though very few cats would be sociable in the pre-light time. Even then she wasn't looking for company.
Rising from her nest she shoved the straying clumps of moss into a misshapen pile, making a note to gather more before her next sleep. Echo didn't think herself to be that horribly picky about her nest, but she also wouldn't deny that unseemly large amounts of moss made for a more comfortable bed. She felt restless, could practically feel her nerves coursing and pulsing with blood.
It certainly didn't help that she had dreamed of her mother.
Padding out of the den and towards the rushing flow of water that hid their home she made sure her claws kept from clicking and scraping at the stones beneath her feet. The last thing she wanted was to rouse a high-strung queen already stressed from lack of sleep and demanding kits and have her ear torn off by a mother. Or father for that matter.
Would she be given an apprentice soon? The thought caught, and she was surprised to find herself not wholly opposed to the idea. She was young herself, barely out of apprenticeship herself, and though possibly an arrogant feeling, she felt mature enough to handle a talkative fluff ball herself. Or perhaps she was simply adding her pawprints to the age old tale of cats trying to be older than they were only to regret it later on. The fact that the common pitfalls of life were so well known and taught in the elders tales, and yet so simple to fall into rankled her.
Wisdom came with time and experience, or so said the elders, but she would prefer to have it now, thank you very much.
Altering her path she came to a pause at the riverside, the cool water lapping at her front paws. Her family, that was what had forced her to rise so early and feel so shaken. Leaning down she began to absentmindedly lap at the water. Echo hadn't given them much thought in the past moon or two. Had found that ignoring it helped her so much more than to greet it head on.
If she were to tell one of her clanmates about it she wouldn't even know where to begin.
Her fathers death- or disappearance.
Her mothers denial-
Her mother often calling Echo by her fathers name, eyes staring blankly at her own kit otherwise.
Unrecognizing of her kin.
Or the day her mother finally snapped and simply left. For the city perhaps, or simply to try and find a mate that could be dead.
Echocall huffed slightly. It all sounded rather, well, dramatic when put like that. Staring down into the water she could just catch her reflection in the early rays of light. The silvery-blue fur and large green eyes her father had bestowed upon her. She didn't remember him much if she was being honest. A warm voice, an occasional companion in play. He had always seemed so big, a mountain to her moons old self.
He left before she was apprenticed. Left or died she never could find out. Her mother always said he was going to return, words sharp and angry if she tried to question more. But she hadn't been an obedient kit and had often overheard whispers among the others. The two most popular rumors were that he had left to become a kittypet, or drowned in a sudden downpour while hunting.
That or there was the third rumor that he had another queen with kits somewhere else, but she had never paid much mind to that one.
Rising from her crouched position Echo turned towards the forest, tail tip twitching incessantly. A good hunt would clear her mind. It would push those unwelcome memories free of their dam. Choosing the forest as her first place to investigate for a mouse or dove, she set off at a quick pace.
By the time she was apprenticed her mother had forgotten that Echocall was her kit. She didn't even call out her new name, or show up to the ceremony at all.
The forest was washed with fresh scents. A possum had made its way through the undergrowth at some point, the leaf mold it had disturbed smelling of fresh damp earth. There wasn't the scent of prey however, unless a few slugs beneath a rock counted. The day she tried eating one of those slimy things would be the day she joined Starclan.
If they took her of course. She had never truly decided if she believed in starry ancestors always watching them. Call her selfish but she would wait for more solid proof before deciding her beliefs in the matter.
Her mother had. She seemed to hold them accountable for her mate gone missing. Had taken to cursing and spitting at them in rage during the days before she too left. Echocall missed her somewhat now, though not as much as she supposed she should have. When her mother had left originally she had felt only relief and joy. Being the daughter of the clans crazed and raving warrior was not something she had been proud of.
She had left to "Bring back her mate," as "none of the mouse brained warriors with fox hearts," had been able to do so. She never returned.
Sometimes, when Echocall felt forgiving she hoped her mother truly had found her father.
Other times she simply accepted that her kin was dead.
The scent of a crow hit her nostrils like a monster rushing past on the thunderpath. A bird that size would feed many mouths. The clan was her family, the only one that mattered. It didn't matter that others could have both their own family and the clan, didn't matter that her heart panged with a strange sense of hushed loss and grief when she saw a loving couple watch their kits with joy and hope in their eyes. What mattered was Mistclan. What mattered was what she made of herself.
Creeping ever so slowly forward she was able to peer around the trunk of a tree and finally spot her quarry. Glossy black feathers moved as the bird ripped into what appeared to be a mouse, its own meal occupying its attention. Its back was to her, and Echocall could feel the blood pounding in her ears and heart singing with excitement.
She pounced, it startled. Her claws sank into its plumage and maw snapped shut against its throat.
A moment later and the forest was silent again.
The thought struck her, as she realized how awkward the bird was to hold, that she had to drag it back to the grotto. The grotto, which was on the other end of the territory practically.
"Foxdung," she spat aloud to no one.
Thoughts pushed to the side for the time being, she began the return trip by tripping over a wing and face planting into the leaf mulch.
Solo hunts did have their bonuses, such as no one to see that.
Echocall shook her head, as if to physically dislodge her brain from its current rabbit trail. In a cruel fit of humor she had awoken before the birds that day, and seemed to be one of the only conscious cats in the Mistclan grotto. There were the odd few up, though very few cats would be sociable in the pre-light time. Even then she wasn't looking for company.
Rising from her nest she shoved the straying clumps of moss into a misshapen pile, making a note to gather more before her next sleep. Echo didn't think herself to be that horribly picky about her nest, but she also wouldn't deny that unseemly large amounts of moss made for a more comfortable bed. She felt restless, could practically feel her nerves coursing and pulsing with blood.
It certainly didn't help that she had dreamed of her mother.
Padding out of the den and towards the rushing flow of water that hid their home she made sure her claws kept from clicking and scraping at the stones beneath her feet. The last thing she wanted was to rouse a high-strung queen already stressed from lack of sleep and demanding kits and have her ear torn off by a mother. Or father for that matter.
Would she be given an apprentice soon? The thought caught, and she was surprised to find herself not wholly opposed to the idea. She was young herself, barely out of apprenticeship herself, and though possibly an arrogant feeling, she felt mature enough to handle a talkative fluff ball herself. Or perhaps she was simply adding her pawprints to the age old tale of cats trying to be older than they were only to regret it later on. The fact that the common pitfalls of life were so well known and taught in the elders tales, and yet so simple to fall into rankled her.
Wisdom came with time and experience, or so said the elders, but she would prefer to have it now, thank you very much.
Altering her path she came to a pause at the riverside, the cool water lapping at her front paws. Her family, that was what had forced her to rise so early and feel so shaken. Leaning down she began to absentmindedly lap at the water. Echo hadn't given them much thought in the past moon or two. Had found that ignoring it helped her so much more than to greet it head on.
If she were to tell one of her clanmates about it she wouldn't even know where to begin.
Her fathers death- or disappearance.
Her mothers denial-
Her mother often calling Echo by her fathers name, eyes staring blankly at her own kit otherwise.
Unrecognizing of her kin.
Or the day her mother finally snapped and simply left. For the city perhaps, or simply to try and find a mate that could be dead.
Echocall huffed slightly. It all sounded rather, well, dramatic when put like that. Staring down into the water she could just catch her reflection in the early rays of light. The silvery-blue fur and large green eyes her father had bestowed upon her. She didn't remember him much if she was being honest. A warm voice, an occasional companion in play. He had always seemed so big, a mountain to her moons old self.
He left before she was apprenticed. Left or died she never could find out. Her mother always said he was going to return, words sharp and angry if she tried to question more. But she hadn't been an obedient kit and had often overheard whispers among the others. The two most popular rumors were that he had left to become a kittypet, or drowned in a sudden downpour while hunting.
That or there was the third rumor that he had another queen with kits somewhere else, but she had never paid much mind to that one.
Rising from her crouched position Echo turned towards the forest, tail tip twitching incessantly. A good hunt would clear her mind. It would push those unwelcome memories free of their dam. Choosing the forest as her first place to investigate for a mouse or dove, she set off at a quick pace.
By the time she was apprenticed her mother had forgotten that Echocall was her kit. She didn't even call out her new name, or show up to the ceremony at all.
The forest was washed with fresh scents. A possum had made its way through the undergrowth at some point, the leaf mold it had disturbed smelling of fresh damp earth. There wasn't the scent of prey however, unless a few slugs beneath a rock counted. The day she tried eating one of those slimy things would be the day she joined Starclan.
If they took her of course. She had never truly decided if she believed in starry ancestors always watching them. Call her selfish but she would wait for more solid proof before deciding her beliefs in the matter.
Her mother had. She seemed to hold them accountable for her mate gone missing. Had taken to cursing and spitting at them in rage during the days before she too left. Echocall missed her somewhat now, though not as much as she supposed she should have. When her mother had left originally she had felt only relief and joy. Being the daughter of the clans crazed and raving warrior was not something she had been proud of.
She had left to "Bring back her mate," as "none of the mouse brained warriors with fox hearts," had been able to do so. She never returned.
Sometimes, when Echocall felt forgiving she hoped her mother truly had found her father.
Other times she simply accepted that her kin was dead.
The scent of a crow hit her nostrils like a monster rushing past on the thunderpath. A bird that size would feed many mouths. The clan was her family, the only one that mattered. It didn't matter that others could have both their own family and the clan, didn't matter that her heart panged with a strange sense of hushed loss and grief when she saw a loving couple watch their kits with joy and hope in their eyes. What mattered was Mistclan. What mattered was what she made of herself.
Creeping ever so slowly forward she was able to peer around the trunk of a tree and finally spot her quarry. Glossy black feathers moved as the bird ripped into what appeared to be a mouse, its own meal occupying its attention. Its back was to her, and Echocall could feel the blood pounding in her ears and heart singing with excitement.
She pounced, it startled. Her claws sank into its plumage and maw snapped shut against its throat.
A moment later and the forest was silent again.
The thought struck her, as she realized how awkward the bird was to hold, that she had to drag it back to the grotto. The grotto, which was on the other end of the territory practically.
"Foxdung," she spat aloud to no one.
Thoughts pushed to the side for the time being, she began the return trip by tripping over a wing and face planting into the leaf mulch.
Solo hunts did have their bonuses, such as no one to see that.