Unbearable Memories [open]

[Elmstar «]

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[atrb=style,padding:0; margin: 0; background-image:url(http://img801.imageshack.us/img801/921/elmtablefoot.png);background-repeat:repeat-y;width: 550px;height:259px;] "Speech." The gorge camp was empty, long forgotten. The lonely skies were dark with mourning, churning and rumbling as a storm moved in. The gales bellowed as they whipped through the valley, howling as if in great pain. Leaves were thrown about harshly, whipping around the camp until they fluttered into an empty den filled with dead, dry moss. Carcasses of cats and prey alike littered the ground. Some cats appeared to have died fighting, covered in wounds, scars, and with legs jutting out at odd angles. Others were as thin as a blade of grass, their ribs showing prominently through their fur and their gut sucked in past the normal point. The former had already begun to decompose, flies flitting about their bodies and an unearthly stench surrounded them. Elmstar walked these grounds alone. His head was low as he trudged through his past home. Friends, family even, were scattered around the camp like crowfood. Unwanted, rotting crowfood. It infuriated him, how they had worked so hard to make it theirs, but now it was nothing to them. His home was no more. They could not go back. The brown tabby lifted his head mournfully to the sky. "Why?" He cried to the storm just as droplets of water began to fall. "Why?" Rain plummetted downward, onto his pelt. It was thick, but the rain soaked him to the bone, only chilling him even more. Suddenly a cat stumbled through the undergrowth of the forest. She broke into a lopsided run, looking back in pure terror. As she hobbled quickly towards him, she tripped, and he saw the pain in her eyes, her yellow eyes. She was still fairly far away, but he recognized her face. "Flamingash?" Elmstar yowled, beginnign to run to her aid, but suddenly he heard a deafening roar and the crashing of trees in the forest. His blood ran cold as he saw a bear rise out of the forest, tall as the sky and its eyes blood red. Its face was bloody and battered, and its coat was stained with the blood of cats. He could smell the mingling of scents, and it confused him beyond proportion. His body and mind told him to run like hell, but his disabled sister needed him. Without hesitation, he charged for his sister, thinking that if only they could get to the dens, they'd be safe. Elmstar leaped in between her and the bear, growling ferociously in a futile attempt to scare it off. Suddenly it lunged at them and both cats let out a bloodcurdling scream. Elmstar woke up with his fur matted and full of moss from rolling around. A scream echoed through the camp, and it only took him a few moments to realize it was his. He'd been talking in his sleep. The big brown tabby shuddered at the vividness and realness of the nightmare. He let out a deep breath, his eyes darkening as he remembered the giant bear that reached towards StarClan. He'd been having the same nightmare for months on end. It certainly wasn't a prophecy, just a stupid dream that wouldn't leave him be. He'd forget it eventually. Elmstar padded slowly through the small camp, already bustling with the remnants of his clan. They were very irritable after being so rudely awoken by his shouts. The fresh-kill pile was already dwindling so early in the morning. He needed to organize some patrols. He sighed loudly as he padded up to the tree that he made announcements on. He called it the Tallpine. His stomach growled loudly as he reached the lowest branch. It was high enough to see everyone but low enough that if he fell, he wouldn't be hurt too badly. Elmstar groaned before he began his announcements. "You there," he called out to one of his warriors, "organize a hunting patrol, and you take those cats on a border patrol. You! Yes you... Take those three and make another border patrol. I will take another hunting patrol later." The camp was murmuring again now, and patrols began leaving. Elmstar let his tail hang down from the branch, its fluffy furs flowing in the light breeze. He began grooming himself, unperturbed by the height of his perch as he licked himself clean. words: 709 | tagged: open | notes: first post! ;D longer than usual...