Ashfeather
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Karma: 100 |  | Shadowed Forest
« Thread Started on Jun 12, 2008, 7:53pm » | |
Deep in the world of dreams, a lone shape Walked. The path it tread was a shining silver, much like the stars that shone in the Awake-world. The Dream-world around him was a dark theme, shadows and Dark looming from high above.
For a long time, this creature Walked, Until the black canvas seeped into a shrouded forest, the canopy dark and forbidden, hiding from the searching eyes of those below sight of the sky and stars.
The creature halted, suddenly, so that its frame seemed for a moment to blend into the miasma that was nothingness, the Dark unknown of the Dream-world.
Slowly, a faint glow began to radiate, the luminous white strands of light spreading in a loose circle around the creature, unveiling and revealing its profile.
It was a cat, tom, a dark tabby, large and muscularilly built. His muzzle was multi-colored, and criss-crossed, white where the scars had healed. His tabby stripes were jagged, and bold, a dark, dark brown.
He looked behind him, as if expecting to have been followed. His eyes searched the shaded forest from wich he had come, their color lost to the glow.
Finally, slowly, almost reluctantly, the tabby turned his attention back to the front of him, and waited, his black tail-tip twitching ever so slightly with anticipation.
The tree, and grass, indeed the very shadows appeared to be shifting, swirling inwards, forming what could only be described as a hole- -a portal, the growingly-impatient tabby knew.
The 'portal' finally encompassed the entire length of the trees, and spread a tree-length long. It was a sheet of nothingness, that shimmered and rippled ever after, a ceaseless motion. And when the 'portal' ceases to spread and grow, the shades passed through.
There were four of them. They entered each separately.
The first to pass through was a small, skinny she-cat. Her eyes were a crystal blue, the expression in them frigid and calculating. Her tail was almost twice as long as her body, and whip-thin. Her pelt was a pure, stark white that contrasted delishously with the world she now stood.
The second to enter was a bulky calico-tabby tom, of whom padded over to the she-cat. Ginger and white were splashed liberally on his pelt. His ears were patched and ragged, and two of his fangs peeked out of his firmly shut jowls.
A third shade passed through, almost immidiently after the after the calico had entered. He strode aggressively to the opposite end of the Dream-walker, but still before him.
His build was muscular as well, almost more so than that of the cat before him. His pelt was a dark, rich brown and there was white on his pelt, almost shockingly pure. His eyes were a bleak, harsh, glacial blue.
And then, finally, the fourth shade passed into the shadowed forests. He was a solid, dark tabby, even more broad and muscularilly built than the tom that had pre-ceeded him.
An aura of power, danger, and authority had annouced his arrival, and all eyes were on him when he stalked over to the tabby-and-white tom.
There they stood, positioned at three points, like those of the triangle. Power. Wealth. Immortality. Promised, and sought, an embodiment of the three-fold that which was yearned for by all five.
"Well, Thunderstorm," the white-she cat sang, her voice sultry and sickly sweet in the stillness of the forest, "You are deputy, now. In seasons to come, you will be leader. Your hearts desire."
"Or is there something else you desire, as well?" The calico tabby broke in, the dull, sinister rasp of his voice sweeping through the air, malice and ambition cutting into the very minds of those around him.
"Something, more?"
"To be leader now? To be leader of all the four clans, the possess complete power over them all? To rule the world of cats?" whispered the tabby-and-white, feather-light, soft and carressing.
The Dream-walker- -Thunderstorm- -was glowing very brightly by now, his dark amber eyes lost to light so completely.
"Yes," he hissed, excited and anticipatory. "Yes," he hissed again, more forcefullly, and then a fine tremble snaked its way through his body, shaking his frame ever so slightly.
"But your leader still has many lives," the white she-cat hissed, as she began to circle around the four toms. "It would be a long time to wait for him to simply die." She spat out the last word, and then halted in mid-step, a tight griamce gracing her features.
"Too long."
Thunderstorm snarled, and flexed his fore-claws, sheathing, and un-sheathing them rythematically. "How could this be rectified?" he growled, the rumble of his anger and fustration echoed in the ambient air.
The darkest tabby, who had watched and judged, stepped foreward, and a frash wave of aura swamped the plotting deputy.
"Long ago, before the time of even your mother's mother's mother's grand-kin, I was a leader, with the glory of all my nine lived," he began, each word enunciated and pronounced with thought and care.
"I was murdered, with a single blow by one I had thought my ally," he continued, more quietly. "My belly had been ripped open, all the way down the middle."
"I died from that sinle injury, nine times over."
The tabby shut his jaw, and fixed his gaze on the Dream-walker. Finally, the calico-tabby spoke, "We will take care of the medicine cats, and the deputies . . . You must take care of your end, or else it will all fail."
Thunderstorm nodded his head, dipping it slightly and solemnly. "Concider it done," he growled, and sunk his un-sheathed claws into the earth-that-was-not. Then he grinned, and it was not a very nice grin.
The shades all dipped their heads in response to the Dream-walkers, and then said, as one, "So mote it be." And then they were gone.
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