Post by Skystorm on Jun 9, 2012 21:46:23 GMT -5
Just thought this was a sweet little thing I would write. Skystorm isn't going to die in the roleplay, at least not anytime soon, and please note that this does involve characters we use. It's in first person- third person is at the bottom, I thought it might add a bit more emotion to the scene if Skystorm describes her own death. This isn't actually going to happen in roleplay, though.
I gasped desperately for breath, my paws matted with scarlet. I gazed longingly into those eyes- those amber eyes belonging to a handsome brown tabby. His claws on my ear, tearing half of it to shreds. The pain I felt, as he drove his claws deep into my belly. The gush of scarlet liquid as he tore my throat. Blood poured onto the empty moor, as my life was torn from me, right in front of my very eyes. How was I even alive?
My eyelids clenched shut, and I felt more claws tear deep into my side. I was a medicine cat, it was against the will of StarClan to kill me! This cat, this tabby, who's name I shall not even mention, is my clanmate, for StarClan's sake! Why was he doing this? My eyes, fluttering open, glanced at my pelt. My bloodied, scarlet, torn pelt. To my shock, it already glowed with the faint light of StarClan. Fur had been torn from my pelt, and it was soon to be crisp with dried blood. The scene of this death- my death- was one of the worst I had ever seen. I didn't even know if they'd find my murderer. A stream of my sticky, red blood was racing down the hill, towards the Gorge, which I was sure was already stained deep scarlet with my life. How did so much blood exist in any one cat?
My eyes clenched shut again, and I gasped. They were there. Not the clearest, but there. StarClan were watching me, in Fourtrees. Only a few I managed to spot were Galestar, Nightshard, and Icebird. I had lived a long life, yet had still looked young. At this time, I was one of the longest living cats the kits had heard of. Well, then again, the kits had not heard of a lot of long-living cats...
"It's your time, Skystorm." Two voices said in unison. It was Nightshard, my old friend, and Gooseleaf, my sickly mentor. They had waited long for me, I could tell. I scanned the ranks of StarClan, looking for other familiar faces. Snowfeather had trained long enough- she'd miss me, I was sure, but I would walk in her dreams, and it was about time I stopped being medicine cat. Just then, I opened my eyes, and as I glanced down, saw the brilliant light of StarClan in my fur, even in my living, soon-to-be-dead, mortal body. With a final, desperate glance into amber eyes, my body fell still, never to move again, on a bloodstained moorland, which would always be my true home.
---
She gasped desperately for breath, her paws matted with scarlet. Light amber gazed longingly into those eyes- those dark amber eyes belonging to a handsome brown tabby. His claws on her ear, tearing half of it to shreds. The pain she felt, as he drove his claws deep into her belly. The gush of scarlet liquid as he tore her throat. Blood poured onto the empty moor, as Skystorm's life was torn from her, right in front of her own eyes. How am I even alive? She wondered.
Her eyelids clenched shut, and she felt more claws tear deep into her side. Skystorm was a medicine cat, it was against the will of StarClan to kill her! This cat, this tabby, who's name she would never even mention, was her clanmate, for StarClan's sake! Why was he doing this? The medicine cat's eyes, fluttering open, glanced at her ginger pelt. Her bloodied, scarlet, torn pelt. To her shock, it already glowed with the faint light of StarClan. Fur had been torn from her pelt, and it was soon to be crisp with dried blood. The scene of this death- Skystorm's death- was one of the worst she had ever seen. The medicine cat didn't even know if they'd find my murderer. A stream of her sticky, red blood was racing down the hill, towards the Gorge, which was surely already stained deep scarlet with life. How did so much blood exist in any one cat?
Her eyes clenched shut again, and Skystorm gasped. They were there. Not the clearest, but there. StarClan were watching her, in Fourtrees. Only a few she managed to spot were Galestar, Nightshard, and Icebird. She had lived a long life, yet had still looked young. At this time, She was one of the longest living cats the kits had heard of. Well, then again, the kits had not heard of a lot of long-living cats...
"It's your time, Skystorm." Two voices said in unison. It was Nightshard, her old friend, and Gooseleaf, her sickly mentor. They had waited long for Skystorm, anyone could tell. The soon-to-be-dead WindClan cat scanned the ranks of StarClan, looking for other familiar faces. Snowfeather had trained long enough- she'd miss her, that could be proved, but Skystorm would walk in her dreams, and it was about time the ginger cat stopped being medicine cat. Just then, the car opened her eyes for the last time, and as she glanced down, saw the brilliant light of StarClan in her fur, even in her living, soon-to-be-dead, mortal body. With a final, desperate glance into amber eyes, the body fell still, never to move again, on a bloodstained moorland, which would always be every WindClan cat's true home.
I gasped desperately for breath, my paws matted with scarlet. I gazed longingly into those eyes- those amber eyes belonging to a handsome brown tabby. His claws on my ear, tearing half of it to shreds. The pain I felt, as he drove his claws deep into my belly. The gush of scarlet liquid as he tore my throat. Blood poured onto the empty moor, as my life was torn from me, right in front of my very eyes. How was I even alive?
My eyelids clenched shut, and I felt more claws tear deep into my side. I was a medicine cat, it was against the will of StarClan to kill me! This cat, this tabby, who's name I shall not even mention, is my clanmate, for StarClan's sake! Why was he doing this? My eyes, fluttering open, glanced at my pelt. My bloodied, scarlet, torn pelt. To my shock, it already glowed with the faint light of StarClan. Fur had been torn from my pelt, and it was soon to be crisp with dried blood. The scene of this death- my death- was one of the worst I had ever seen. I didn't even know if they'd find my murderer. A stream of my sticky, red blood was racing down the hill, towards the Gorge, which I was sure was already stained deep scarlet with my life. How did so much blood exist in any one cat?
My eyes clenched shut again, and I gasped. They were there. Not the clearest, but there. StarClan were watching me, in Fourtrees. Only a few I managed to spot were Galestar, Nightshard, and Icebird. I had lived a long life, yet had still looked young. At this time, I was one of the longest living cats the kits had heard of. Well, then again, the kits had not heard of a lot of long-living cats...
"It's your time, Skystorm." Two voices said in unison. It was Nightshard, my old friend, and Gooseleaf, my sickly mentor. They had waited long for me, I could tell. I scanned the ranks of StarClan, looking for other familiar faces. Snowfeather had trained long enough- she'd miss me, I was sure, but I would walk in her dreams, and it was about time I stopped being medicine cat. Just then, I opened my eyes, and as I glanced down, saw the brilliant light of StarClan in my fur, even in my living, soon-to-be-dead, mortal body. With a final, desperate glance into amber eyes, my body fell still, never to move again, on a bloodstained moorland, which would always be my true home.
---
She gasped desperately for breath, her paws matted with scarlet. Light amber gazed longingly into those eyes- those dark amber eyes belonging to a handsome brown tabby. His claws on her ear, tearing half of it to shreds. The pain she felt, as he drove his claws deep into her belly. The gush of scarlet liquid as he tore her throat. Blood poured onto the empty moor, as Skystorm's life was torn from her, right in front of her own eyes. How am I even alive? She wondered.
Her eyelids clenched shut, and she felt more claws tear deep into her side. Skystorm was a medicine cat, it was against the will of StarClan to kill her! This cat, this tabby, who's name she would never even mention, was her clanmate, for StarClan's sake! Why was he doing this? The medicine cat's eyes, fluttering open, glanced at her ginger pelt. Her bloodied, scarlet, torn pelt. To her shock, it already glowed with the faint light of StarClan. Fur had been torn from her pelt, and it was soon to be crisp with dried blood. The scene of this death- Skystorm's death- was one of the worst she had ever seen. The medicine cat didn't even know if they'd find my murderer. A stream of her sticky, red blood was racing down the hill, towards the Gorge, which was surely already stained deep scarlet with life. How did so much blood exist in any one cat?
Her eyes clenched shut again, and Skystorm gasped. They were there. Not the clearest, but there. StarClan were watching her, in Fourtrees. Only a few she managed to spot were Galestar, Nightshard, and Icebird. She had lived a long life, yet had still looked young. At this time, She was one of the longest living cats the kits had heard of. Well, then again, the kits had not heard of a lot of long-living cats...
"It's your time, Skystorm." Two voices said in unison. It was Nightshard, her old friend, and Gooseleaf, her sickly mentor. They had waited long for Skystorm, anyone could tell. The soon-to-be-dead WindClan cat scanned the ranks of StarClan, looking for other familiar faces. Snowfeather had trained long enough- she'd miss her, that could be proved, but Skystorm would walk in her dreams, and it was about time the ginger cat stopped being medicine cat. Just then, the car opened her eyes for the last time, and as she glanced down, saw the brilliant light of StarClan in her fur, even in her living, soon-to-be-dead, mortal body. With a final, desperate glance into amber eyes, the body fell still, never to move again, on a bloodstained moorland, which would always be every WindClan cat's true home.