Post by paint on Jan 31, 2013 3:46:15 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] hold me and feel my heart beat The sun reminded him of a golden egg. When he was younger, he used to think that it was tied up in invisible cobwebs and that the stars secretly held it up. Back then, Kiteswoop had been imaginative and full of life—not that he wasn’t now other than the fact that he felt dead inside. Yet, the she-cats kept coming to him. One after another, a big long parade of them hopping in the sack with him and then rolling over so the next one had a turn. It was sick, he admitted it, but they never stopped coming. Plus, didn’t nature want him to spread his genes all over Starclan’s creation? It only made sense but it didn’t matter now. He had been in love once and that had caused him to lose his baby sister, Swallowpaw. Perhaps it was illogical of him—displacing his feelings and blaming love—actually, it was quite illogical. But he was stuck in that particular mind frame. Like a fly to stuck in a web, he just couldn’t free his mind from that train of thought. His tail brushed against his hind legs as he walked. He hadn’t been given an apprentice and so, his days were rather slow. The handsome tom, if he wasn’t courting around a she-cat or two, spent his days hunting or patrolling the borders or spending time with his kid brother. However, his brother was training and that left him to his own devices. If only, if only there was a way to shut off my thoughts, Kiteswoop mentally sang to himself. There was only a few things that really scared the large, muscular tom and one of those things happened to be being alone with his thoughts. When he thought he fixated. There was no stopping it. He would latch onto a though, mull it over, chew on it, spit it out, and pick it back up again; repeat. It was silly. It was sick. It was certainly no good for him. Hunting, that will get my mind off things, he thought, pleased with himself. His paws carried him to the grassy field which was more like an ice field now that winter had arrived. He didn’t mind it though. In fact, he paused on the outskirts of the terrain. The sun glistened off the pointed spires of grass, dots of color swarmed the field—enchanting it. Maybe hunting can wait, he thought as he gingerly walked inside of the field. The wind blew, poking at his eyes and nose. He bowed his head so the wind only ruffled his bangs. Beneath his pink paw pads, the grass crunched and bit into him. “Bad idea?” Kiteswoop glanced backward, back to the way he came. It would be so easy for him just to turn around and go back to the original plan but instead he sprawled out on the ice daggers, allowing them to poke and prod his skin. It a twisted way, he felt like he deserved the pain and so, he endured it with a smile on his face—thinking of suns and spider webs. WORDS: 521. TAGGED: KIN , GROUSEFOOT. NOTES: KINDA ALL OVER THE PLACE. |