Post by »__Laughing on Jan 18, 2009 20:40:59 GMT -8
so basically...
"This is getting old..." his voice carried on by itself, an echo in the terribly lonely terrain. "I think its about time that someone else appears here. I'm getting this feeling that being by myself isn't quite as exciting as I had originally suspected." There was nothing in response, not a trembling tone of someone relieved to find some else, not the rustle of a winter, or summer, or spring breeze. It was empty. "This is so boring." He didn't like to speak to himself like he was insane, which he was far from, but he didn't like the absolute silence either. The atmosphere was suffocatingly lukewarm. It was like there was absolutely nothing, like everything around him was really just blank space. His fur rose as he shivered, though there was no cold air. There was never a hint of change in these eternal woods.
He took a step further in the never ending world, or a step back. No matter how many paw-prints he made in this soil there was never a mark to show where he had stepped. He was walking forever in a perpetual circle and he probably didn't even know it. He couldn't even remember when there wasn't scenery like this. Surrounded by towering trees, not of any specific kind that his mind could muster. They just stood. Never was there a leaf that shook with life. It was like these trees were just replicas of each other, all stood in the same fashion, all of them lack movement. But everything was sluggish in the department of motion here. Everything was not the same as it was in life. Everything was different, everything was incredibly boring.
Yet, when he attempted to conjure up the images of his existence as a living and breathing creature everything was too dull and blurred to see. True, it had happened moons ago. Though he did not age he was far past the thirty-two moons that he had originally fallen to the hands of Starclan at. His mind sometimes felt like it was being oppressed and that these memories would not appear because something was keeping them away. Fog had yet to come to the conclusion that he was the one who was keeping away the memories, for he feared the life that he had once spent. He did not wish to recall the things that he had pushed himself through as a flesh and blood feline. He did not realize this because he had oppressed even that mind-eating emotion. He was oblivious to his past because he chose to be, subconsciously. It was like it was decided for him. Perhaps there was some mercy in the hands of Otherclan, or as the others called in: the land of no stars.
When he had first awakened in this place, ripped from his life in a gut-retching way, he felt relief. He had assumed, without opening his eyes, that he had finally come to Starclan. He had finally made it to the land that he would be peace with for the rest of his life. The look of absolute peace on his face was perfect. He would never smile like that again in this fox-hole. For when he opened his eyes to see that he was not being greeted, no one was hovering over him with starlit eyes and the sky above was dark and light less, he realized that this was not Starclan. The breeze did not carry the scent of other cats. The world around him was blank, empty, lifeless. Where was he? Why were they no star-wreathed beings welcoming him? What outrageous sin had he committed against the ancestors that he had been forced to love during his life that caused him to be the one rejected from their light? Anger, despair. There was no regret, he did not know what to feel remorseful over. He had no memory of anything bad that he had done. Repressed, no, he had just forgotten. How could he forget about his life?
He had wandered for moons on end, the felines that he had once played with as children were dieing like he had in his younger moons. He never saw anyone walk the same path as him. Where were the rest of the horrible people who had walked the same Earth as him? Where were the rogues that believed in no Starclan, where were the horrible Clan cats that were spoken of in legends? It was lonely, though he did not notice that in the first moments that he had wandered. It was extremely tiring, this endless journey, though he did not notice that at first. He hadn't been ecstatic that he had been placed here, in these dark woods with no company, but he only had been completely out of it for a couple of hours. He had rampaged through the dull terrain for a good amount of time, screaming cusses at the heavenly Starclan, ones that he was sure that they had to have heard. They echoed in his ears for a couple of hours, so they should do the same in the ears of those who had forced his conscious mind, yet dead body to walk these dreaded forests. What could he accomplish here? How was he going to atone for the wrongs that he could not remember? Anger was not powerful enough to have the reigns over him long. He found his head, screwed it back on, and began this quest, as he liked to call it.
A quest to find out how to get out of this fox-hole; the official title.
"How long will it take until Starclan sees that I am ready to come to their place? Not that I'd go there to be happy..." he scoffed at the thought. He had, since his earlier moons in this Otherclan place, decided that if Starclan ever did look down on him over here and saw that he was a fine fellow and should be accepted over there, he'd give them a piece of his mind and murder them again and again, until their souls never wanted to come back to their place in the sunny fields of Starclan. "I'd go to ring their necks until they apologized for sending me into this dump. When did I ever disrespect them? Well, until now."
Fog grumbled to himself a lot in Otherclan. Most of his day consisted of conversations at the grass, trees, empty sky or even directed toward the ever-mute Starclan themselves. He spoke of minute things, of how he was going to see through with this revenge he constantly mumbled to himself about, even if it took millions of moons to achieve such a ridiculous goal. And sometimes he just muttered about how there was never seasons changing over here. How he never again tasted the chill of winter, which he had said that he adored so much in life, or at least assumed that he did. He openly showed his annoyance that there was no summer breeze tickling his pelt, and the only time that he shivered was when he felt like there was absolutely nothing in the world except for him. Occasionally he spoke conspiracy theories to the ground he walked on. He said that maybe this was the way that Starclan was going to test his patience. Yet, he decided, for he short-tempered and couldn't bear things for such a long time, that no one deserved to be treated like this just to get into some paradise that he would be forced to stay in for his whole life.
It was somewhere along these murmurs that he dropped the 'sayer from his name and stuck with Fog, since he knew no others titles. He was a new man, a new character. He would get his revenge.
Eventually.
"Is there really nothing out there?" he expected no answer. He hadn't gotten an answer for moons. Why did he continue to walk, then?
"This is getting old..." his voice carried on by itself, an echo in the terribly lonely terrain. "I think its about time that someone else appears here. I'm getting this feeling that being by myself isn't quite as exciting as I had originally suspected." There was nothing in response, not a trembling tone of someone relieved to find some else, not the rustle of a winter, or summer, or spring breeze. It was empty. "This is so boring." He didn't like to speak to himself like he was insane, which he was far from, but he didn't like the absolute silence either. The atmosphere was suffocatingly lukewarm. It was like there was absolutely nothing, like everything around him was really just blank space. His fur rose as he shivered, though there was no cold air. There was never a hint of change in these eternal woods.
He took a step further in the never ending world, or a step back. No matter how many paw-prints he made in this soil there was never a mark to show where he had stepped. He was walking forever in a perpetual circle and he probably didn't even know it. He couldn't even remember when there wasn't scenery like this. Surrounded by towering trees, not of any specific kind that his mind could muster. They just stood. Never was there a leaf that shook with life. It was like these trees were just replicas of each other, all stood in the same fashion, all of them lack movement. But everything was sluggish in the department of motion here. Everything was not the same as it was in life. Everything was different, everything was incredibly boring.
Yet, when he attempted to conjure up the images of his existence as a living and breathing creature everything was too dull and blurred to see. True, it had happened moons ago. Though he did not age he was far past the thirty-two moons that he had originally fallen to the hands of Starclan at. His mind sometimes felt like it was being oppressed and that these memories would not appear because something was keeping them away. Fog had yet to come to the conclusion that he was the one who was keeping away the memories, for he feared the life that he had once spent. He did not wish to recall the things that he had pushed himself through as a flesh and blood feline. He did not realize this because he had oppressed even that mind-eating emotion. He was oblivious to his past because he chose to be, subconsciously. It was like it was decided for him. Perhaps there was some mercy in the hands of Otherclan, or as the others called in: the land of no stars.
When he had first awakened in this place, ripped from his life in a gut-retching way, he felt relief. He had assumed, without opening his eyes, that he had finally come to Starclan. He had finally made it to the land that he would be peace with for the rest of his life. The look of absolute peace on his face was perfect. He would never smile like that again in this fox-hole. For when he opened his eyes to see that he was not being greeted, no one was hovering over him with starlit eyes and the sky above was dark and light less, he realized that this was not Starclan. The breeze did not carry the scent of other cats. The world around him was blank, empty, lifeless. Where was he? Why were they no star-wreathed beings welcoming him? What outrageous sin had he committed against the ancestors that he had been forced to love during his life that caused him to be the one rejected from their light? Anger, despair. There was no regret, he did not know what to feel remorseful over. He had no memory of anything bad that he had done. Repressed, no, he had just forgotten. How could he forget about his life?
He had wandered for moons on end, the felines that he had once played with as children were dieing like he had in his younger moons. He never saw anyone walk the same path as him. Where were the rest of the horrible people who had walked the same Earth as him? Where were the rogues that believed in no Starclan, where were the horrible Clan cats that were spoken of in legends? It was lonely, though he did not notice that in the first moments that he had wandered. It was extremely tiring, this endless journey, though he did not notice that at first. He hadn't been ecstatic that he had been placed here, in these dark woods with no company, but he only had been completely out of it for a couple of hours. He had rampaged through the dull terrain for a good amount of time, screaming cusses at the heavenly Starclan, ones that he was sure that they had to have heard. They echoed in his ears for a couple of hours, so they should do the same in the ears of those who had forced his conscious mind, yet dead body to walk these dreaded forests. What could he accomplish here? How was he going to atone for the wrongs that he could not remember? Anger was not powerful enough to have the reigns over him long. He found his head, screwed it back on, and began this quest, as he liked to call it.
A quest to find out how to get out of this fox-hole; the official title.
"How long will it take until Starclan sees that I am ready to come to their place? Not that I'd go there to be happy..." he scoffed at the thought. He had, since his earlier moons in this Otherclan place, decided that if Starclan ever did look down on him over here and saw that he was a fine fellow and should be accepted over there, he'd give them a piece of his mind and murder them again and again, until their souls never wanted to come back to their place in the sunny fields of Starclan. "I'd go to ring their necks until they apologized for sending me into this dump. When did I ever disrespect them? Well, until now."
Fog grumbled to himself a lot in Otherclan. Most of his day consisted of conversations at the grass, trees, empty sky or even directed toward the ever-mute Starclan themselves. He spoke of minute things, of how he was going to see through with this revenge he constantly mumbled to himself about, even if it took millions of moons to achieve such a ridiculous goal. And sometimes he just muttered about how there was never seasons changing over here. How he never again tasted the chill of winter, which he had said that he adored so much in life, or at least assumed that he did. He openly showed his annoyance that there was no summer breeze tickling his pelt, and the only time that he shivered was when he felt like there was absolutely nothing in the world except for him. Occasionally he spoke conspiracy theories to the ground he walked on. He said that maybe this was the way that Starclan was going to test his patience. Yet, he decided, for he short-tempered and couldn't bear things for such a long time, that no one deserved to be treated like this just to get into some paradise that he would be forced to stay in for his whole life.
It was somewhere along these murmurs that he dropped the 'sayer from his name and stuck with Fog, since he knew no others titles. He was a new man, a new character. He would get his revenge.
Eventually.
"Is there really nothing out there?" he expected no answer. He hadn't gotten an answer for moons. Why did he continue to walk, then?
jennifer louise, you don't know me and we're not friends
