Post by BlooRey DVD on Aug 15, 2019 8:29:53 GMT -5
65 Moons Tom NightClan
S U N P U L S E
Ginger ears flattened slightly against his skull as a fat raindrop landed squarely between amber eyes. Shaking his head as though that would prevent further assaults, Sunpulse stood up from where he had been seated, gaze casting out toward the distant mountains. He had come here with the intent of visiting an old friend who’d gone to live with the Tribe. He and Dusk had set up these meetings so as not to let one of Sunpulse’s only remaining friendships wither away. But it would seem today they would not see one another.
Not that Sunpulse could blame Dusk. His waiting period here had been filled with unease; the river was swollen, water tearing down its bed at a much faster pace than was usual. In fact, it looked almost as though it were ready to escape at a moment’s notice. Add to that the dark storm clouds that hung over the mountains, Sunpulse could only assume Dusk had been deterred from making the journey because the Tribe had been caught in the storm that was just now engulfing the valley.
Amber eyes widened in alarm as a sheet of rainwater seemed to materialize out of nowhere, surging forward with unexpected ferocity. So thick it was that Sunpulse not only found his fur quickly drenched, but the ginger tom also found himself blinded for a heart stopping moment. Squinting through the heavy rainfall, the NightClan tom’s jaws parted as he inhaled a breath. I have to get out of here. He thought to himself.
Turning his back on the cloud-covered mountains and quickly rising river, Sunpulse set as quick a pace he dared back toward his home territory. He didn’t want to risk running, for the grass underpaw had grown slick with rain and the tom could hardly see a tail length before him. Still, his quick trot covered decent ground, though it would not be quite enough to save the unaware tom. For behind him, the banks of the river could no longer hold the gushing river, and just as RainClan’s camp was over taken some distance away, so too was the very ground he stood upon.
Water surged to overtake his paws, sweeping beneath him and crashing into his belly fur. A ginger head snapped up in alarm, the NightClan warrior moving in sharp bounds now as he attempted to escape the cold wetness around him. But the current was persistent, and as icy liquid continued its unhindered and unforgiving path over fox lengths of territory, Sunpulse found himself swept away. Unskilled paws thrashed in the water as he fought to keep his head above the surface. Every time he found himself pulled under, he briefly lost track of which way was up as the river tossed him in confusing pirouettes.
By some StarClan given miracle, he would breach the surface again, coughing and sputtering as fear-widened amber eyes searched for something familiar. But having started so far from the lands he called home, factoring in the river’s seemingly random flow pattern, the poor tom had little chance of orienting himself while trapped in the water’s cold grip. I have to get out, get to drier land. He thought suddenly, ginger paws still attempting to swim. But the river was not done with him yet.
He registered the general impact first. His body collided with something beneath the water’s surface, forcing the breath from his lungs. Claws scraped against bark, the ginger tom gasping for air only to hiss in pain as a stinging sensation bloomed from just behind his right foreleg. Despite the roaring river and the pounding of blood in his ears, he heard something snap. The bark-covered protrusion was quickly left behind as Sunpulse’s forced journey downstream continued.
Claws dug desperately into a raised piece of land as he drifted by, muscles funneling every bit of strength he had left into hauling himself onto the protruding piece of land. His right side revolted at every movement, his skin attempting to let him know something was terribly wrong. But all he could think about was getting out. Back legs scrabbled feebly on whatever hold they could find, and eventually the sodden tom crawled safely onto somewhat dry land.
Though his legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath him at a moment’s notice, the hammering of his heart and the associated panic were enough to keep him standing. In almost every direction he looked, all he could see was water. He could no longer tell where the river had originated, or where the scentlines were. Was he even still in the valley? Where had he been washed to? Rain continued pelting down from above, stinging his side and hindering his vision. He could only see one direction that looked remotely dry. And that is where he would go.
Staggering forward in a lurching, three-legged run, the NightClan warrior moved away from the rising river as fast as he could manage. He ran despite his lungs pleading for air. Ran despite the burning in his muscles. Despite the sting in his side. He had to put as much distance as he could between himself and the crazed river that could swallow him whole.
He lost track of how far he ran. He lost track of where he was. But eventually, the events of the last day overcame him, and his paws would carry him no longer. His hind paws were the first to give out, his rump crashing to the ground mid step. Because his right foreleg refused to hold much weight, the sudden loss of his hindquarters caused him to lurch to one side. Just barely managing to stop himself from slamming into the ground, the sodden ginger tom cat slumped onto his left side in the middle of the open ground. Rain continued to batter the defeated warrior, exhaustion swarming him in the form of dark spirals congregating at the edge of his vision.
Lifting his head with what little strength he had left, he finally looked to his complaining right side. Wet ginger fur was darkened by a slow flow of crimson blood, seeping forth from a puncture behind his right foreleg. Protruding from his skin were bits of a branch, splinters centered around a larger piece embedded in his side. His head collapsed to the ground again as he lost out to the lethargy, darkness swallowing him and quelling his pain for the time being.
He was woken by the sound of something familiar. Bleary eyes cracked open, and the semi-conscious tom managed to register that it had at least stopped raining. What he thought odd, however, was how he could feel as though he were simultaneously on fire and plunged into a river in Leafbare. His body trembled in short bursts, wracked by chills that had set in after spending too long alone and in the rain. He felt sluggish, confused. He was cold, yet his jaws were parted as he panted sharply, trying to regulate the burning heat that tore through him at random.
Why had he come to, again? And was he hearing voices? Dragging his head along the ground, he moved enough to direct his gaze in the vague direction of the voices. Are... they calling to me? Maybe I’m dying, and these are my escorts. He thought grimly, amber eyes shutting and hiding the black form approaching at the head of the two-cat patrol. He didn’t particularly want to die; despite recent misgivings, he still felt as though dying would mean he would miss out on so much. There was too much he would miss if he were to die now. But every rise and fall of his flank sparked little pinpricks of pain from his injured side, and only served to bring back that exhaustion.
He wanted to sleep. But every brief crack open of his amber eyes revealed a little something more. Black fur. Green eyes. Such bright green eyes. Holly..?
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Word Count: ~1300 words
Tags: Fawn
Notes: I am just as surprised as you xD
Believe that it is darkest before the dawn of a beautiful new world.
You will see it when you believe it.
You will see it when you believe it.