>Zephyrstar<
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Joined: Aug 2005
Gender: Female 
Posts: 247
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« Thread Started on Jul 1, 2006, 5:20pm » | |
.:\./W.h.i.s.p.e.r.s\./:.
A plot by Zephyr
“It’s for the best, Silverstreak.”
The pale loner she-cat that spoke looked into her daughter’s eyes, a mixture of fear and pleading plainly visible in her own gaze’s depths.
“But mother--” The snowy-white she-cat began to protest, but was cut off by a loud yowl from nearby, this one closer than the last: “The scent trail leads this way!”
Silverstreak cringed slightly at the words that confirmed what she already knew: the rogues were drawing closer to their hiding place. Lowering her voice from the higher pitch she’d been using before so that only her mother could hear, she asked, “Why can’t you come with me?”
Smolderfang shook her head and sighed almost wistfully. “You know as well as I do that I could never really be happy living in a Clan; I’m a free spirit, and I need my space.”
Raising a paw to cut off another protest, Smoulderfang continued, “But you’re different, Silverstreak. You enjoy the company of others; don’t pretend I haven’t seen you staring over their border so often. Besides, you have their magic.” Here, she flicked her tail lightly against her daughter’s crystalline dragonfly wings. “Just like you father did. I’m sure they’d much prefer an able young cat like yourself to a magic-less, old one like me.”
The sound of pawsteps thundering close by added a new, high level of urgency to the situation, and from the fear in Silverstreak’s eyes, Smoulderfang could see that her daughter was caving to her reasoning.
“I’ll see you again, won’t I?” the younger she-cat finally whispered, her mis-matched eyes wide with apprehension. The unhidden fear in her voice clearly told the seriousness of her question.
Smolderfang leaned forward to press her shoulder against her daughter’s. “Sure as the sun will always rise, and the stars will always shine,” she replied softly. A faint glimmer of a tear appeared in her eye, but she quickly blinked it away. “Now go on, before they find us here.”
Silverstreak’s fur already glistened with shed tears, as she pushed her nose suddenly but briefly into her mother’s shoulder. “I love you, mother,” she sobbed, before pulling away.
This time, Smolderfang did not hold back her own tears, as she responded quietly, “I love you too, my daughter, my Silverstreak.” Then, hoarsely, her voice breaking with emotion, she said more loudly, “Go, now!”
As Silverstreak turned and bounded away, over the border into CloudClan territory, Smolderfang watched her go, before turning to start down her own path.
“Please - keep her safe.”
And then, she too vanished into the undergrowth, off into the unknown of rogue and loner territory.
*-*-*
Silverstreak, the pure, silvery-white she-cat, was born in rogue territory. Raised by her mother, Smolderfang, she lived a happy life, up until the fateful green-leaf night that changed her life forever.
A group of rogues had settled in the nearby territory, and set their sights on the small but plentiful piece of land that Silverstreak and Smolderfang called home. It wasn’t long before the older loner and her daughter were forced to make a choice - stay, and die at the rogues’ cruel claws, or flee their territory to find a new life elsewhere.
Smolderfang, knowing how Silverstreak had long wished to join a Clan, sent her daughter over the CloudClan border to live with the SkyCats, while she herself left to find new territory near Twolegplace.
*-*-*
“Yes, Silverstreak, we would be most happy to have you join our Clan,” Mirrorstar said, her eyes flashing with sympathy for the former loner, after hearing her tale. “I’ll appoint a warrior to teach you about the warrior code--it lays down the rules of our ancestors, and we all live by it.”
Silverstreak nodded understandingly, as the majestic CloudClan leader turned, and called out across the clearing, “Crimsonmoon!”
Almost immediately, a gray, smoky-colored tom who appeared to be around Silverstreak’s age, came bounding over to stand beside the two she-cats. “Yes, Mirrorstar?” he asked, eyes shifting a quick glance at Silverstreak.
“I want you to teach Silverstreak--” A wave of her tail indicated the other she-cat. “--About our ways of life; the warrior code, where to hunt and sleep, everything you can.”
Crimsonmoon’s head bobbed up and down in a quick nod, a smile spreading across his face. “I will, Mirrorstar,” he replied, before turning to face Silverstreak. “Welcome to CloudClan,” he said amiably. “I’m Crimsonmoon.”
“Silverstreak,” Silverstreak replied, suddenly feeling somewhat shy, at the happiness that spread through her at the sound of Crimsonmoon’s cheerful tone. She was starting to feel more at home here, already.
*-*-*
Silverstreak quickly adapted to the rules and continuously steady stream of activity of Clan life, a great deal of her progress due to Crimsonmoon’s helpful tutelage. The tom was a good friend to Silverstreak, and she grew to appreciate his company more and more, even after her need for his constant, informative presence was gone.
The former loner made many friends in the Clan, from the younger apprentices, to the oldest elders. Many cats were entirely sympathetic to the story of her past, and all readily accepted her presence in the Clan.
As time went on, Silverstreak felt more and more deeply her developing feelings for Crimsonmoon; she was falling in love with the tom, she could tell, from the explanation her mother had given her so long ago. The emotions she felt coursing through her at the mere sight of the gray tom were enough to tell her that this was more than friendship. The only thing left to do now was gathering up the courage to tell Crimsonmoon of her crush.
And that, as Silverstreak learned, was quite difficult in and of itself.
*-*-*
The rattle of dried pellets being shaken into a plastic food bowl rang throughout the alley, creating an echo that bounced off of the walls of the twoleg buildings. A voice called out, soft and gentle, as the dish was shaken again to draw the attention of the alley’s sole occupant.
A pale-furred head raised at the sounds, amber eyes turned toward the mouth of the alley, ears swiveling to do the same. Smolderfang smiled to herself at the prospect of another labor-less meal--her energy level had dropped severely from the mouse she had managed to catch last night--but she did not move from her position behind the can of twoleg rubbish, even as the female twoleg called out its usual greeting to her. No, she would wait for the bland taste that had become her normal routine--there were far more important things to attend to right at that moment.
Smolderfang listened as the twoleg called out a few more times, and as heavy footsteps slowly faded away from her hideout in the alleyway. The loner smiled contentedly to herself as the smell of food wafted past her nose, and chuckled as a small pressure at her belly informed her that she wasn’t the only one who was hungry.
Leaning her head down, Smolderfang slowly rasped her warm tongue over the small, white body curled next to her own, tiny paws kneading her stomach in the hopes of more milk. The single kit mewled quietly in the darkened alleyway, and the loner she-cat kept up her massage of the little creature’s back to lessen its cries.
“I know,” she whispered, getting to her feet, careful not to step on her tiny son. “I need to eat again, so you can do the same.” Stretching her neck out to nuzzle the small form, she purred audibly to the newborn kit. “Don’t cry, little Whiteout. You’ll get your dinner soon.”
*-*-*
Unknown to Silverstreak, far-off in Twolegplace, her mother had finally settled down after a long time of wandering the rogue and loner territory. Smolderfang had adapted to the routine of being fed by a twoleg that happened to live nearby, though she did not live in the twoleg’s home, as a kittypet would; she simply accepted the food for the tiny mouth that had been growing inside of her for some time, and because prey was harder to find in Twolegplace.
When she gave birth to a single son, Smolderfang immediately recognized the resemblance between the young tom and his half-sister, Silverstreak; his pure white coat was easily distinguishable from that of other cats, just as Smolderfang’s daughter’s had been, moons ago.
Smolderfang wondered, inwardly, if the newborn Whiteout possessed magic, as his older sister had; their father had not been the same, and had showed no signs of having magic himself, but the loner she-cat could not help her curiosity. Whiteout certainly did not share the same trait of beautiful wings as Silverstreak had, but nonetheless, Smolderfang watched him closely as he grew up.
Until one particular incident occurred, which she would never forget…
*-*-*
A seven-moon-old Whiteout crouched beside his mother in the alley that he had long since begun to call home, his eyes flickering nervously from Smolderfang to the twolegs that now stood at the mouth of the dark path. The tall female was not alone this time, however, as Whiteout had seen her before; this time, a young male was with her, and they were speaking in hushed voices to each other as they stood there.
“They won’t hurt us, will they, mother?” Whiteout whispered, although his eyes were transfixed on the strange scene before him. The female twoleg--the other one’s mother, he supposed, from the scent--had never hurt them before, hardly approached them at all, unless Smolderfang was first to do so.
Smolderfang shook her head, but still kept a somewhat-wary eye on the pair of twolegs, as the customary call was made - food rattling into a dish, and the female twoleg’s voice calling out. “No, Whiteout, they won’t hurt us. I wonder why the other one is here, though…”
Meanwhile, Whiteout stood transfixed, his optics practically glued to the older twoleg’s face. “I think…” he whispered, unconsciously taking a small step toward the twolegs. “I think she’s brought her son here to see us.” As the twolegs murmured softly to each other, he listened intently, coming to a realization he had never made before: The twolegs’ voices, their language, was as clear to him as his mother’s own voice.
The twoleg mother made a hushing motion as she spotted Whiteout crouching there, and she smiled silently at her son. “Here, kitty,” she called, holding out the dish of pellets, and giving it a tiny shake. “We won’t hurt you. Come on, here kitty…”
Smolderfang took a few hesitant pawsteps out beside her son, her gaze questioning as he looked at her. “How do you know that?” she questioned his previous observation, tilting her head to one side in amused mystification. “It’s as if you can tell what they’re saying.”
Whiteout looked at his mother, and nodded vigorously, his eyes widening as her own did. “Well, yes, can’t you?” The look on the older loner’s face was enough to tell him that no, indeed, she could not. He could feel his own confusion growing, as well as his courage, bravery to do something that he had never tried before.
Stepping gingerly toward the twolegs over and through the piles of rubbish bags that lined the alley, Whiteout kept his gaze fixed on the elder of the two, and briefly allowed her to rub his forehead when she stretched out a hand.
“That’s a good kitty,” she murmured, as he purred softly into her hand. “See?” she whispered, Whiteout assumed to her son, motioning him to get down on the cats’ level as she had. “He’s such a good kitty. Aren’t you, kitty?” The crooning tone, only encouraged Whiteout, as he swallowed a lump in his throat, before speaking:
“Whiteout.”
The twoleg mother’s head swiveled toward her son, as Smolderfang’s eyes widened considerably, and she asked in their tongue, “What did you say?” Her voice was in unison with Smolderfang’s in Whiteout’s ears, as his mother questioned the exact same thing.
“I said my name,” Whiteout explained to her, finding that the words that came out of his mouth were cat-like once again. A grin began to spread on his face. “What did it sound like?” Smolderfang’s response was short and full of confusion, then a flash of understanding: “Like a twoleg speaking.”
Again, Whiteout’s features were filled with excitement, as he turned back to the twolegs, the son now shrugging, and saying, “I didn’t say anything, mom.” So he had been right, this was the twoleg’s son. But Whiteout hardly cared about this, as he spoke, this time more focused, “No, I said it. My name is Whiteout.”
The twoleg mother’s eyes widened as they fixed on Whiteout, and her mouth gaped open, then closed, as if she was trying to say something, but couldn’t manage it. The teenage boy beside her shoulder, however, looked as if the world had just been given to him on a silver platter. “He talked!” the boy exclaimed, motioning to Whiteout excitedly.
Smolderfang could only watch and listen to a few translated words from Whiteout as the twolegs began talking animatedly, her fur rising with amazement. Whiteout could speak to the twolegs, had spoken to them!
Whiteout did, indeed, have magic, and had found it with the help of a twoleg.
*-*-*
Whiteout’s life changed drastically after this new series of revelations; the twoleg boy insisted to his mother that Whiteout be welcomed into their home, and Whiteout had complied without a struggle - he was so interested in his newfound ability, he had to learn more of this strange new world that was opening up to him!
He had no qualms about living with the boy and his mother; he was allowed outdoors at any time, and was kept unaltered, unlike the rest of the neighborhood kittypets--by the insistence once again of the boy, who pointed out the possibility that such a thing could change him to the point where his ability could no longer be used.
Whiteout frequently visited his mother, sometimes doing so alongside his twoleg owners. So quickly that it surprised even the teenage boy, who had become Whiteout’s new best friend among the twolegs, could not believe it, Whiteout had quickly learned to converse fully with his new owners--although the twoleg mother seemed to be quite unwilling to believe that his power was not a figment of her imagination, and so did not speak with Whiteout hardly at all. Yet Whiteout took joy in keeping conversations between the boy and himself, and between himself and other felines, like his mother.
Whiteout’s power was kept a secret from all of the twolegs other than the boy and his immediate family, as was agreed was the best idea for the young cat’s safety and happiness. The kittypet tom did not speak to anyone outside of the household, other than cats.
And so, life went on, with no hint of the disaster that was about to unfold.
*-*-*
Silverstreak stalked silently through the undergrowth, her translucent dragonfly wings twitching slightly with anticipation. She could smell the scent of rabbit just ahead, could almost taste it; her stomach growled with the same, shared excitement - she and Crimsonmoon had already hunted for the Clan today, so now it was time that they could hunt for themselves.
Finally, she spotted the cottontail’s brown-and-white fur through the bushes, and signaled with her tail for Crimsonmoon to be quiet. The tom was just behind her, she was sure, as she tensed, ready to spring.
In one fluid motion, Silverstreak lunged out of the brush, toward the unsuspecting prey animal. She could feel Crimsonmoon hot on her tail, felt the wind rushing through her fur, could almost feel her claws pinning the rabbit down…!
Then, a horrid bang shot through the air beside her, and Silverstreak could feel only the sensation of falling, down, down, down…And then, blinding pain, horrible agony, piercing through her body like molten fire.
What had hit her? She couldn’t see, she couldn’t possibly tell. Over the pain which she now felt, she could tell that one of her wings was shattered in the middle, by what she did not know. She could feel her life’s blood running swiftly, like a coursing river, from a pair of gaping holes in her back and chest. It was all over before it had begun.
Crimsonmoon… Silverstreak thought dimly, hearing the tom’s voice scream out behind her. Her vision was blurring, she couldn’t see…And then, there was nothing but darkness.
I’m sorry.
*-*-*
Silverstreak was the first cat to experience the wrath of the twolegs, and their horrible, stick-like weapons. She never knew until after death just what had killed her, and even then, still she did not understand; why had the twolegs killed her, ripped her away so violently from everything she knew and loved?
For a long time, Silverstreak mourned for the losses she had suffered - not only of her life, but of the one cat she had loved above all others: Crimsonmoon. It was not until one day, when she looked into the gazing waters of StarClan to see, not Crimsonmoon as had come to her in visions for so long then, but another cat, so similar in looks to herself that it stunned her: Whiteout.
It was then that determination began to spring anew in Silverstreak, as she grew more intensely interested in her connection with Whiteout. Through her newfound wisdom as a StarClan cat, she slowly pieces together a series of facts, that lead her to the conclusion that Whiteout is her half-brother.
As events in the forest begin mounting to the fever pitch that comes about at the end of Absolutely Zero, Silverstreak slowly uses the connection with Whiteout to its fullest extent - in other words, she communicates with Whiteout, through a series of dreams, visions, and soft whispers. She tries to convince the kittypet of his wrongdoings, but her presence in his thoughts and dreams only seems to scare Whiteout, and eventually, he shuts her out completely; he ignores the whispers that could have saved so many lives.
Only at the end of Absolutely Zero, when Whiteout sees the truth, does he once again accept Silverstreak’s voice into his mind and heart. Silverstreak watches through him as Crimsonmoon dies, and Whiteout can hear the mixture of sorrow and relief that her love will be joining her in the dead she-cat’s whispers. And as he watches Zephyrstar mourn over the loss of her mate, he hears another series of whispers, this time too faint for him to catch; perhaps they told of the future which Silverstreak herself could see, but he could not.
And, as Silverstreak’s hold on him lessens, Whiteout hears one last, faint whisper:
“You have saved them, Whiteout. For that, I thank you, little brother.”
Then, as quickly as they came, Silverstreak and her whispered words of wisdom are gone, back to the sparkling fields of StarClan, certain that the Clans are safe once more.
*-*-*
Plot Characters:
Silverstreak-Taken by Zephyr
Whiteout-See Absolutely Zero plot thread to claim
Crimsonmoon-Taken by Rippah
Zephyrstar-Taken by Zephyr
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>Zephyr<>Painted<>Dragon<
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~Tendril~~Chestnut~
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