Post by PaintedCricket on Apr 20, 2010 10:12:21 GMT -5
A lone figure made its way through the ink black scape. It's form was barely visible, a sickly light against the greater light of all the stars of the midnight. One could tell it was weak, fading, near the end... The creature's breath came out ragged, torn as it gasped its final words, "Help me!" It stumbled forward, towards a figure that had, until now, been hidden among the stars. This one did no such thing, its form now quivering like starlight on disturbed waters and star-speckled eyes wide in fear, turned and fled instead. The darkening figure reached out for the starry one, but having no strength or will to go on, collapsed with a yowl in defeat, kicking up starlight in its fall. The shards fell upon it like rain, burying the sickly light in its shallow, nameless grave. Red trickled out from the ground, making its way across the sky and painting the moon...
***
Moonrise, the Thunderclan medicinecat, had scented in the bad weather coming—that's why she was out here, gathering herbs before they could be destroyed by the coming storm. She had been so intent on getting all the leaves before the peaceful night broke into battle or rain that it was only by chance that she managed to look up, just a moment. She gasped, letting the herbs fall from her maw. "The moon! The moon is turning red!" The medicinecat had never fully believed in Starclan, but she was now frightened enough to call out to the stars in mercy.
A silent figure rushed out of the darkness, covering the medicinecat and cutting off her prayers.
***
And angry cry awoke the clan cats. What was it? And attack!? Had some enemy cat come into the camp? "Moonrise, she's dead!" Dead!? But how? Medicinecats, through the ages, have never been one for the wars, even if they wanted to, they couldn't be... "It must've been the other clans!" you hear another voice yowl out. "We ought to go over there and kill their own medicinecats!" "No!" came yet another. "Where is she!? We must see and scent first!"
But when you arrive, there's nothing to scent. Herbs cover her body from nose to tail, undisturbed through the still night, masking what scent there may have been. She could have been asleep, but upon closer inspection the hope that dares wander into your heart is trampled like fallen leaves. Her eyes made sightless by blood.