Post by Phoenix on Aug 24, 2013 1:06:58 GMT -5
Ospreypaw
Only one thing could send a shiver of fear down his spine as violent as the darkness that came with every night. Even with the moonlight, nighttime was almost unbearable, for the areas that were not illuminated by the silvery light existed as long, dark shadows, stark against the bright moonlight. These shadows were everywhere, cast across the rocky slopes they had been forced to call home after that fateful attack many moons ago and even around the edge of camp, unforgiving in their pitch black state. Jolted awake by yet another nightmare, he had abandoned the shadowed, makeshift den and company of his peers to stumble into the open space of the temporary camp, but that was hardly better than remaining in the darkness of the den.
Out here, the shadows, as always, were bigger. His mind could use them to play tricks. If he peered closely enough into their depths, he could see the lean forms of warriors, opponents leaping around the other in a lethal dance that would end in a flash of claws, a cry cut off by the gurgle of blood, and glowing red eyes. There were always those eyes, every single night, unfailing. It was that crimson gaze that jolted him from his nightmares every night, prevented him from ever having a full night’s sleep.
And he detested the night just as much as he detested the owner of those eyes. Only the night reduced him to this pathetic state, unveiled the true Ospreypaw that hid behind layers and layers of a fake Ospreypaw during the day. The night made him vulnerable, and he could never afford to be vulnerable again. He had Skunkpaw to protect, and the rest of his family to take care of. They were all he had now, and he wasn’t about to lose them because he had had a moment of helplessness. He was determined to become strong and though no one knew it, exact revenge on the two demons that had killed his parents and shattered their family. During the night, all of the strength he thought he had gained seemed to fall away, leaving him afraid of his own shadow. It was pathetic.
Extra sensitivity to his surroundings, born of the jumpiness that overcame him with the setting of the sun, alerted him to the other feline before he saw him or her, and he froze, working on attempting to rebuild the walls that had crumbled and fallen. If it were Skunkpaw or Cricketleap, perhaps, he wouldn’t bother, but the chances of it being either of them as opposed to one of his clan mates were slim. Jaw tightened, the tuxedo tom turned slightly, tail flicking as his gaze sought out the newcomer.
- - -
Only one thing could send a shiver of fear down his spine as violent as the darkness that came with every night. Even with the moonlight, nighttime was almost unbearable, for the areas that were not illuminated by the silvery light existed as long, dark shadows, stark against the bright moonlight. These shadows were everywhere, cast across the rocky slopes they had been forced to call home after that fateful attack many moons ago and even around the edge of camp, unforgiving in their pitch black state. Jolted awake by yet another nightmare, he had abandoned the shadowed, makeshift den and company of his peers to stumble into the open space of the temporary camp, but that was hardly better than remaining in the darkness of the den.
Out here, the shadows, as always, were bigger. His mind could use them to play tricks. If he peered closely enough into their depths, he could see the lean forms of warriors, opponents leaping around the other in a lethal dance that would end in a flash of claws, a cry cut off by the gurgle of blood, and glowing red eyes. There were always those eyes, every single night, unfailing. It was that crimson gaze that jolted him from his nightmares every night, prevented him from ever having a full night’s sleep.
And he detested the night just as much as he detested the owner of those eyes. Only the night reduced him to this pathetic state, unveiled the true Ospreypaw that hid behind layers and layers of a fake Ospreypaw during the day. The night made him vulnerable, and he could never afford to be vulnerable again. He had Skunkpaw to protect, and the rest of his family to take care of. They were all he had now, and he wasn’t about to lose them because he had had a moment of helplessness. He was determined to become strong and though no one knew it, exact revenge on the two demons that had killed his parents and shattered their family. During the night, all of the strength he thought he had gained seemed to fall away, leaving him afraid of his own shadow. It was pathetic.
Extra sensitivity to his surroundings, born of the jumpiness that overcame him with the setting of the sun, alerted him to the other feline before he saw him or her, and he froze, working on attempting to rebuild the walls that had crumbled and fallen. If it were Skunkpaw or Cricketleap, perhaps, he wouldn’t bother, but the chances of it being either of them as opposed to one of his clan mates were slim. Jaw tightened, the tuxedo tom turned slightly, tail flicking as his gaze sought out the newcomer.
- - -