Post by l.wolfeh.l on Jan 16, 2007 21:39:04 GMT -5
”Just over this hill,” Merlin assured, swinging his great black head around to give an encouraging look to his companions. Dawn trotted up to his side and gave him a warm nudge.
”That’s what you said about the last hill, darling,” she teased. Her beautiful jade eyes sparkled out from the sea of her thick mottled fur - ebony and amber, cream and silver - and Merlin’s heart throbbed at just the sight of his beloved mate. She had always been so supportive during hard times, and surely these had been hard times.
”Why don’t we take a break, dear? This is a steep hill,” she suggested, always the wise one of the duo. Merlin sighed and gazed up to where blue sky marked the hill’s summit, but he knew that Dawn was right. Turning, he let out a yowl for everyone to take a rest. His followers obeyed gladly.
“Follwers” was quite possibly an accurate word for the mass of felines that now trod behind him. How had all this happened? he wondered, not for the first time. As he often did, Merlin faded dazed off, fading away into his memories.
It had started with only he and Dawn, both housecats, or “kittypets” as Ashfall called them. The two companions - both purebred, pampered, Maine Coon show cats - had been on their way to a show with their upwalkers. But then something terrifying had happened; the metal box they always used when it was time to move again had suddenly emitted a horrible loud screeching sound, crumbling and bending and toppling until finally Merlin no longer felt or saw anything. He awoke later, free from his carrier, lying in a nasty puddle of mud. Loud whirling sirens filled the air, and the tom jumped up, frantically searching for Dawn.
He found her huddled in a bush, and the two fled from the frightful sounds and lights, not caring which direction they were headed. Adrenaline pumped, and all thoughts of their upwalkers had disappeared for the time being.
Soon, they were lost. Merlin was terrified, but Dawn was rational, as always, and she kept them moving through the dark gloomy forest they were in. Then Ashfall had appeared. He was vicious and threatening, but Merlin found his sense of bravery and stood his ground to protect Dawn. When Ashfall realized that the two big cats meant no harm, the lithe gray tom calmed, and explained how he was lost as well; thrown off-track from his journey to rescue his best friend, a cat named Nightclaw. Ashfall also happened to notice that Merlin and Dawn were starved and frail-looking, so he caught food for the three. Merlin and Dawn were so hungry they didn’t even hesitate at consuming something that wasn’t small, orange, and t-shaped. Ashfall decided to travel with the two kittypets, teaching them the arts of tracking and hunting as best he could. Luckily, they caught on quickly.
One day, Ashfall stopped, scenting the air curiously. Merlin and Dawn looked on, amused. ”Nightclaw!” he suddenly cried, racing off through the brambles. Merlin and Dawn scampered off after him, confused. They skidded to an abrupt halt in front of a large building. The smells of hundreds of cats flooded them, and to this day the three are not sure how Ashfall scented Nightclaw’s through the multitude.
It became apparent that the building was some sort of holding place for imprisoned cats. Merlin and Dawn were wary, but Ashfall darted right up to the ominous fortress, so they followed quickly. What they found was horrible - dozens of cats in cages, yowling pitifully in pain and sorrow. Ashfall found Nightclaw, who was starved and frantic. The scared black tom explained how cats were captured, imprisoned, and regularly they would be taken by upwalkers in white coats to never return. The three free cats were appalled.
Then an upwalker appeared, crying out and running toward the cats. Merlin jumped back in terror, bumping a red lever in the process. Suddenly the cages opened, and cats poured forth , running hysterically through the building. Merlin had shouted for Dawn until he sighted her speckled pelt, and then Ashfall appeared with Nightclaw, beckoning hurriedly for them to flee.
They ran for what seemed like ages, then hid in a bramble thicket all night, keeping watch for the upwalkers. Finally, all four fell asleep. The next morning they awoke with a dizzy sense of recollection, but it all became overwhelmingly true when they saw the multitude of cats surrounding them. All four stared in silent shock, until one big, scarred orange tabby stepped forth.
”Who is your leader? Who freed us?” he asked firmly. None answered, but all looked to Merlin. After all, he had hit the lever. The tabby nodded. ”Thank you. I am Blaze.”
Merlin found his voice, and hoarsely croaked, ”And who are all of them?”
Blaze turned, his gaze sweeping, and then returned it to Merlin. ”They are homeless.”
And so were the event that had set scores of cats out behind five tentative felines into lands unknown. Merlin soon forgot how long they trekked - no terra was large enough, plentiful enough, or secluded enough to hold the rescued cats. Some loners and rogues even joined the moving band - and even a kittypet as well - adding to the numbers. The leaders could not turn them away, though it seemed time was running out. Ashfall and Nightclaw taught all the cats about the “clans” they had come from, the warrior code, and a place called StarClan. Strangely, Merlin found himself believing it all readily, accepting his new way of life. There were now four appointed leaders - calm Merlin, wise Ashfall, cautious Nightclaw, and the rugged Blaze.
”This had better be the last hill, kittypet,” Blaze sneered as he approached. The old tom was always harsh, called himself a “rogue”, and didn’t like Merlin and Dawn’s housecat roots.
”I second that,” Ashfall called in a lighter tone as he padded up with Nightclaw.
Merlin sighed again. ”It will be,” he said with fake conviction. Always the last hill.
”They’re relying on us,” Dawn added, looking out with sympathy at the weary cats who were resting among themselves.
After a few moments, Merlin stood, looking to the other four.
”Come,” he beckoned. ”Let’s see for ourselves.
As always, for some reason, the other felines stood to follow the large dark tabby. Something about his mellow calm enchanted them. They trotted up the hill in a line - Blaze, then Dawn, Merlin in the middle, next Ashfall, then Nightclaw. The clear blue sky grew wider as the hill narrowed, and their pace picked up unconsciously, until all five were nearly racing to the top.
And then, they stopped, all silent. Below them, a massive forest, ending at a cool blue spans of sea. Each held their breath, unwilling to break what could only be a dream. They had done it - they had found a home.
The cats adopted Ashfall and Nightclaw’s clan system, with the warrior code and revered StarClan. Merlin became Merlinstar, with Dawnbreak at his side, leader of DawnClan (named for the wise queen he loved). Ashfall was Ashstar of Dayclan, Nightstar of NightClan. And lastly, Blaze was Blazestar of DuskClan. The cats spread amongst the new clans, creating their hierarchies and infrastrcutures.
Each cat now is a descendant of those lines - lost leaders or frightened fugitives. And the tales of their past are told to every kit and apprentice, recited at gatherings, and remembered in times of trial.
[/color][/sub][/size]”That’s what you said about the last hill, darling,” she teased. Her beautiful jade eyes sparkled out from the sea of her thick mottled fur - ebony and amber, cream and silver - and Merlin’s heart throbbed at just the sight of his beloved mate. She had always been so supportive during hard times, and surely these had been hard times.
”Why don’t we take a break, dear? This is a steep hill,” she suggested, always the wise one of the duo. Merlin sighed and gazed up to where blue sky marked the hill’s summit, but he knew that Dawn was right. Turning, he let out a yowl for everyone to take a rest. His followers obeyed gladly.
“Follwers” was quite possibly an accurate word for the mass of felines that now trod behind him. How had all this happened? he wondered, not for the first time. As he often did, Merlin faded dazed off, fading away into his memories.
It had started with only he and Dawn, both housecats, or “kittypets” as Ashfall called them. The two companions - both purebred, pampered, Maine Coon show cats - had been on their way to a show with their upwalkers. But then something terrifying had happened; the metal box they always used when it was time to move again had suddenly emitted a horrible loud screeching sound, crumbling and bending and toppling until finally Merlin no longer felt or saw anything. He awoke later, free from his carrier, lying in a nasty puddle of mud. Loud whirling sirens filled the air, and the tom jumped up, frantically searching for Dawn.
He found her huddled in a bush, and the two fled from the frightful sounds and lights, not caring which direction they were headed. Adrenaline pumped, and all thoughts of their upwalkers had disappeared for the time being.
Soon, they were lost. Merlin was terrified, but Dawn was rational, as always, and she kept them moving through the dark gloomy forest they were in. Then Ashfall had appeared. He was vicious and threatening, but Merlin found his sense of bravery and stood his ground to protect Dawn. When Ashfall realized that the two big cats meant no harm, the lithe gray tom calmed, and explained how he was lost as well; thrown off-track from his journey to rescue his best friend, a cat named Nightclaw. Ashfall also happened to notice that Merlin and Dawn were starved and frail-looking, so he caught food for the three. Merlin and Dawn were so hungry they didn’t even hesitate at consuming something that wasn’t small, orange, and t-shaped. Ashfall decided to travel with the two kittypets, teaching them the arts of tracking and hunting as best he could. Luckily, they caught on quickly.
One day, Ashfall stopped, scenting the air curiously. Merlin and Dawn looked on, amused. ”Nightclaw!” he suddenly cried, racing off through the brambles. Merlin and Dawn scampered off after him, confused. They skidded to an abrupt halt in front of a large building. The smells of hundreds of cats flooded them, and to this day the three are not sure how Ashfall scented Nightclaw’s through the multitude.
It became apparent that the building was some sort of holding place for imprisoned cats. Merlin and Dawn were wary, but Ashfall darted right up to the ominous fortress, so they followed quickly. What they found was horrible - dozens of cats in cages, yowling pitifully in pain and sorrow. Ashfall found Nightclaw, who was starved and frantic. The scared black tom explained how cats were captured, imprisoned, and regularly they would be taken by upwalkers in white coats to never return. The three free cats were appalled.
Then an upwalker appeared, crying out and running toward the cats. Merlin jumped back in terror, bumping a red lever in the process. Suddenly the cages opened, and cats poured forth , running hysterically through the building. Merlin had shouted for Dawn until he sighted her speckled pelt, and then Ashfall appeared with Nightclaw, beckoning hurriedly for them to flee.
They ran for what seemed like ages, then hid in a bramble thicket all night, keeping watch for the upwalkers. Finally, all four fell asleep. The next morning they awoke with a dizzy sense of recollection, but it all became overwhelmingly true when they saw the multitude of cats surrounding them. All four stared in silent shock, until one big, scarred orange tabby stepped forth.
”Who is your leader? Who freed us?” he asked firmly. None answered, but all looked to Merlin. After all, he had hit the lever. The tabby nodded. ”Thank you. I am Blaze.”
Merlin found his voice, and hoarsely croaked, ”And who are all of them?”
Blaze turned, his gaze sweeping, and then returned it to Merlin. ”They are homeless.”
And so were the event that had set scores of cats out behind five tentative felines into lands unknown. Merlin soon forgot how long they trekked - no terra was large enough, plentiful enough, or secluded enough to hold the rescued cats. Some loners and rogues even joined the moving band - and even a kittypet as well - adding to the numbers. The leaders could not turn them away, though it seemed time was running out. Ashfall and Nightclaw taught all the cats about the “clans” they had come from, the warrior code, and a place called StarClan. Strangely, Merlin found himself believing it all readily, accepting his new way of life. There were now four appointed leaders - calm Merlin, wise Ashfall, cautious Nightclaw, and the rugged Blaze.
”This had better be the last hill, kittypet,” Blaze sneered as he approached. The old tom was always harsh, called himself a “rogue”, and didn’t like Merlin and Dawn’s housecat roots.
”I second that,” Ashfall called in a lighter tone as he padded up with Nightclaw.
Merlin sighed again. ”It will be,” he said with fake conviction. Always the last hill.
”They’re relying on us,” Dawn added, looking out with sympathy at the weary cats who were resting among themselves.
After a few moments, Merlin stood, looking to the other four.
”Come,” he beckoned. ”Let’s see for ourselves.
As always, for some reason, the other felines stood to follow the large dark tabby. Something about his mellow calm enchanted them. They trotted up the hill in a line - Blaze, then Dawn, Merlin in the middle, next Ashfall, then Nightclaw. The clear blue sky grew wider as the hill narrowed, and their pace picked up unconsciously, until all five were nearly racing to the top.
And then, they stopped, all silent. Below them, a massive forest, ending at a cool blue spans of sea. Each held their breath, unwilling to break what could only be a dream. They had done it - they had found a home.
The cats adopted Ashfall and Nightclaw’s clan system, with the warrior code and revered StarClan. Merlin became Merlinstar, with Dawnbreak at his side, leader of DawnClan (named for the wise queen he loved). Ashfall was Ashstar of Dayclan, Nightstar of NightClan. And lastly, Blaze was Blazestar of DuskClan. The cats spread amongst the new clans, creating their hierarchies and infrastrcutures.
Each cat now is a descendant of those lines - lost leaders or frightened fugitives. And the tales of their past are told to every kit and apprentice, recited at gatherings, and remembered in times of trial.
