Status: Working Working WORKING
The Spark That Started the Fire
After the Unimaginable
The moon glimmered in the dark sky as Nutmeg neared the clearing filled with mist and a huge boulder where she met Silverwind every once an a while. The young she-cat had helped her at night in her dreams since the death of her father and become a valuable friend. Silverwind had never explained who she was or where she came from, though she did make odd remarks about Clans and Warrior ancestors, ending each visit with, "May StarClan light your path." which Nutmeg had just assumed she was hearing it wrong. She asked Silverwind about it once but she just said, "All in good time, my little one."
Though Nutmeg had fallen asleep at noon, it was always night in the magical clearing. Nutmeg made her way down to the centre, like clockwork, Silverwind appeared like a shadow from the mist, the stars in her fur shining with greeting, "Hello, Nutmeg. It is good to see you." she nuzzled the young she-cat's shoulder in affection. Nutmeg licked her neck in return, the sweet scent of the moor in her pelt.
"You know you could never keep me away, Silverwind." she purred, rubbing her cheek as Silverwind drew away, "It's too lovely here to resist."
"It is only lovely when you are here, precious." she gave her a motherly lick between the ears. Most cats Nutmeg's age would have backed away, but lately Nutmeg's mother seemed not enough. "It is too bad this is not where you belong, you need to get up."
Nutmeg was confused, Silverwind had never told her to wake up before. "But why?"
"Wake up, sweetie. And may StarClan light your path." the mist swirled around her paws and she felt her figure fade into the mist.
Nutmeg woke in the rafters, disgruntled by the lack of meeting with her misty mother. Her head rested on her long front paws that were sprawled out on the long plank overlooking the barn. She had grown a lot since her father had passed away, it had been over four moons but the memory still hung over the barn cats like a storm that never seemed to pass. Lilac, the once gentle and kind cat had become cold and hard, withdrawing from motherhood almost completely.
Luckily though, she had her dream mother-Silverwind and she had the house cats in the home near the barn that helped the kits learn to live in a barn, though Prince seemed not to have learned anything from them.
Ella had strayed further and further from their barn cat heritage and was spending more and more time near the home with the housefolk, though she still loved Prince and Nutmeg, the young brown and white she-cat knew it wouldn't too long until Ella tried to join the family completely.
Prince was no help either, he was very open about his longing to leave the farm and become a rouge and fend for himself, and he did not try and his his disrespect for the house cats either.
So as she gathered her thoughts and stood on the beam above the barn she couldn't help wonder if she should leave too. Every night she dreamed of running through a forest, far and beyond the leisured of living in the barn and living on her own terms and stop eating the disgusting house cat food that was given to them. She tried every day to catch one of the mice that infested the barn but every time she tried to catch a mouse she messed up somehow, or someone interrupted her. The one time she successfully pounced on one her teeth bit through thin air and she realized it was just a dream.
She walked with agility across the long plank to the lower hay loft below where her siblings and mother slept. Lilac was sitting on the glassless window sill, looking at her daughter with cold eyes she turned back gazing out at the sun setting over the corn fields, as if looking for her lost mate. Nutmeg couldn't help but feel a flame of anger rising in her chest, crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her. She glared at Lilac with contempt and glanced at the sleeping shape of Ella, her furry body curled up amongst the hay. There were two dents where Prince and Lilac had slept, but her brother was no where to be found.
Nutmeg jumped off the loft, landing on the hay stacks a cat-length below. She jumped down each bail with strength and certainty, her memory prodding the memory of her rushing down to help her father in the last minutes of his life. She landed on the barn floor and sighed, nothing to do.
Her belly rumbled but her mouth was dry with summer's heat and she didn't want anything to do with the foul, dry pellets in the corner of the room. She walked over and curled her lip as two flies buzzed on her 'so called' meal.
She turned to the open barn doors and bounded out, walking towards the farmhouse. The two farmers that lived there were inside, probably eating like they always did a sunset according to the house cats. She thought about waiting outside for her two friends but decided against it. The beautiful countryside was wide open and ready to be explored, so with a last glance at the barn, Nutmeg charged down past the corn fields and headed for the moors.
She had spent a few hours exploring a couple clearings and meadows, rolling in the flowers and chasing some butterflies and moths. She was nearing the border of the farm which was marked by a line of trees when she spotted a young tom. He was quite handsome with jet black fur with brown, grey and fiery red spots glowing in the moonlight. His eyes were an amber, which reminded her of her father and she felt a stab of pain. But this cat's were lighter, more warm and inviting than Hector's dark amber eyes that showed how wise he was. This cat was young, probably her age or over and he was very skinny. His legs were powerful, though not as long as hers. She was a little taller than him but he was much more powerful. The more she thought about it, the more he reminded her of Ginny, the foul rouge who had killed her father. Could this be her son? Nutmeg didn't want to take any chances, she flattened her ears and bared her teeth, her eyes narrowed in hostility, Who are you" she snarled, not willing to be caught alone by a pack of rouges without being sure of whom she was dealing with.
Though Nutmeg had fallen asleep at noon, it was always night in the magical clearing. Nutmeg made her way down to the centre, like clockwork, Silverwind appeared like a shadow from the mist, the stars in her fur shining with greeting, "Hello, Nutmeg. It is good to see you." she nuzzled the young she-cat's shoulder in affection. Nutmeg licked her neck in return, the sweet scent of the moor in her pelt.
"You know you could never keep me away, Silverwind." she purred, rubbing her cheek as Silverwind drew away, "It's too lovely here to resist."
"It is only lovely when you are here, precious." she gave her a motherly lick between the ears. Most cats Nutmeg's age would have backed away, but lately Nutmeg's mother seemed not enough. "It is too bad this is not where you belong, you need to get up."
Nutmeg was confused, Silverwind had never told her to wake up before. "But why?"
"Wake up, sweetie. And may StarClan light your path." the mist swirled around her paws and she felt her figure fade into the mist.
Nutmeg woke in the rafters, disgruntled by the lack of meeting with her misty mother. Her head rested on her long front paws that were sprawled out on the long plank overlooking the barn. She had grown a lot since her father had passed away, it had been over four moons but the memory still hung over the barn cats like a storm that never seemed to pass. Lilac, the once gentle and kind cat had become cold and hard, withdrawing from motherhood almost completely.
Luckily though, she had her dream mother-Silverwind and she had the house cats in the home near the barn that helped the kits learn to live in a barn, though Prince seemed not to have learned anything from them.
Ella had strayed further and further from their barn cat heritage and was spending more and more time near the home with the housefolk, though she still loved Prince and Nutmeg, the young brown and white she-cat knew it wouldn't too long until Ella tried to join the family completely.
Prince was no help either, he was very open about his longing to leave the farm and become a rouge and fend for himself, and he did not try and his his disrespect for the house cats either.
So as she gathered her thoughts and stood on the beam above the barn she couldn't help wonder if she should leave too. Every night she dreamed of running through a forest, far and beyond the leisured of living in the barn and living on her own terms and stop eating the disgusting house cat food that was given to them. She tried every day to catch one of the mice that infested the barn but every time she tried to catch a mouse she messed up somehow, or someone interrupted her. The one time she successfully pounced on one her teeth bit through thin air and she realized it was just a dream.
She walked with agility across the long plank to the lower hay loft below where her siblings and mother slept. Lilac was sitting on the glassless window sill, looking at her daughter with cold eyes she turned back gazing out at the sun setting over the corn fields, as if looking for her lost mate. Nutmeg couldn't help but feel a flame of anger rising in her chest, crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her. She glared at Lilac with contempt and glanced at the sleeping shape of Ella, her furry body curled up amongst the hay. There were two dents where Prince and Lilac had slept, but her brother was no where to be found.
Nutmeg jumped off the loft, landing on the hay stacks a cat-length below. She jumped down each bail with strength and certainty, her memory prodding the memory of her rushing down to help her father in the last minutes of his life. She landed on the barn floor and sighed, nothing to do.
Her belly rumbled but her mouth was dry with summer's heat and she didn't want anything to do with the foul, dry pellets in the corner of the room. She walked over and curled her lip as two flies buzzed on her 'so called' meal.
She turned to the open barn doors and bounded out, walking towards the farmhouse. The two farmers that lived there were inside, probably eating like they always did a sunset according to the house cats. She thought about waiting outside for her two friends but decided against it. The beautiful countryside was wide open and ready to be explored, so with a last glance at the barn, Nutmeg charged down past the corn fields and headed for the moors.
She had spent a few hours exploring a couple clearings and meadows, rolling in the flowers and chasing some butterflies and moths. She was nearing the border of the farm which was marked by a line of trees when she spotted a young tom. He was quite handsome with jet black fur with brown, grey and fiery red spots glowing in the moonlight. His eyes were an amber, which reminded her of her father and she felt a stab of pain. But this cat's were lighter, more warm and inviting than Hector's dark amber eyes that showed how wise he was. This cat was young, probably her age or over and he was very skinny. His legs were powerful, though not as long as hers. She was a little taller than him but he was much more powerful. The more she thought about it, the more he reminded her of Ginny, the foul rouge who had killed her father. Could this be her son? Nutmeg didn't want to take any chances, she flattened her ears and bared her teeth, her eyes narrowed in hostility, Who are you" she snarled, not willing to be caught alone by a pack of rouges without being sure of whom she was dealing with.