Humans are long gone, merely ancient memories to us now. This land has become our own. We know how strong we can become yet we keep our heads bowed. Nature chose to end the humans. If we become too strong then nature may decide to end us. It keeps us in line, from straying into dangerous territory. Legends remind us of those ancient days and the lessons our ancestors had to learn. Now our paws tread a new path. Now we must follow our hearts and hope we choose the right path…
Welcome to the Crumbled Earth…
Pray that you can survive.
The Journey Begins
(Groan)
"Nightmare, wake up! Please wake up! We don't know what to do!"
Dark gray eyelids slowly opened, revealing piercing yellow eyes. Groaning again, the tom shook his head. Standing above him were five cats. All of them were bleeding from several injuries. Slowly the tom tried to rise. A spike of pain from his raced left hind leg. The tom collapsed with a pained grunt. One cat, a black she-cat with a white chest, leaned down to lick his cheek. A weak purr was her reward. Rolling onto his right side, the tom eyed his wounded leg. It was badly scratched up but didn't appear broken. He gave a curt nod before running a tongue over his black-striped, silver flecked, dark gray side. His silver belly growled as hunger decided to join the fray.
Shaking his head, which was still slightly muddled, the tom looked up at the five cats. "How badly is anyone hurt?" he asked softly.
"We took some scratches and bruises. Tiger and Fall are still unconscious, both taking rocks to the head," the black she-cat, Shadow, meowed, signaling to the other six cats nearby. She green eyes turned solemn as she looked towards the cave wall where three mounds of rocks could be seen. "We lost Boulder, Willow, and Hare. They're injuries were too severe. Luna and Spike fell when the giant crack formed. Quill and Ripper were trying to help Granite, Light, and Owl when the cave roof started falling and we haven't been able to find them since."
A gray tom with dark gray patches, known as Rock, looked down at the tom, "How do you feel, Nightmare?"
Nightmare forced himself onto his paws, despite the pain in his leg, and stood tall. He replied quietly, voice echoing in the cave, "I'll live. What do we know of the others?"
Reaper, a dark brown she-cat, shook her pelt, "Once the giant crack formed, we were split into three groups. Talon managed to lead his party over to Vole and the rest. Only we remained separated. Then the cave roof started collapsing and we lost sight of them."
Sighing quietly, Nightmare thought over the events. He remembered Vole, his aging leader, talking about heading south into the Forest Region, where their Tribe could hunt until winter then return northward again. That gave his group ten moons to locate the rest of their Tribe-members. He swallowed nervously. Lily, his wonderful mate, had been near the back of the group with their two-moon old son, Gorse. Did they make out alive? Would they be waiting with the others? Was Lily worrying over him? Slowly Nightmare limped over to where Tiger, a dark brown tabby with black stripes and a white chest, and Fall, a dark gray she-cat with white paws, were curled up. The other five cats followed him. He was their second-in-command. Whatever he did, they would do. Whatever his orders, they would obey without hesitation. Nightmare forced down a sigh. They were hurt, scared, and worried about their Tribe-members. They didn't need to feel indecision or concern coming from him. It would only make them panic.
Sniffing over Tiger's bloodied fur, he asked softly, "Do we know of a way out of this cave?"
"Yes, I scouted one out yesterday," Lark, a tom with an odd mixture of gray-brown coat, meowed.
Nightmare looked up, concerned. Yesterday? How long had he been unconscious? "How many days has it been since the powerful earth shaking?"
"Six days," Shadow meowed, clearly looking uncomfortable.
Terror then anger filled Nightmare from nose to tail. Sucking in a deep breath, despite his complaining ribs, the tom tried to calm down. "Have any of you been out hunting or fetching fresh water?" Five blank stares looked at him. "Well then, MOVE!" he shouted impatiently.
All five bolted in different directions. Each called back that they would return with either food or water. Nightmare pressed his aching head against the stone wall. Six days since the powerful earth shaking. Six days less to find their Tribe. The Wanderer Tribe never stayed in one place for long. It wasn't safe. It wasn't wise. Prey was always careful, always moving. They had to remain the same. They had to fight for survival with every breath they breathed. Living in the Mountain Region demanded it. He sighed. His Tribe-members were strong and resourceful. Maybe a little slow to think of things on their own but they could adapt to anything. They would survive…
They had to.
Suddenly his dark gray, black-striped ears turned. Yellow eyes turned to a long tunnel created by flowing water. Cautiously he limped closer. At the entrance he froze. The scent was musty and overwhelming. Dripping water echoed from deep within. Both eyes strained into the darkness but could see nothing. Opening his mouth, he scented the air. Nothing. No one. Both ears flicked again. Everything was telling him that no one else was around. Yet he could clearly hear voices. His front right paw, which was pure black, slowly reached forwarded. It pressed into the cool, uneven rock. Instantly the ground began shaking violently.
Spinning around, Nightmare yowled at the top of his lungs, "Everyone to me! NOW!"
Falling debris crashed around him. Lark appeared with Gravel right behind him. Shadow leaped over a fallen rock, crouching protectively over Fall. Soon Reaper and Rock came racing over several moments later, breathing hard. They were the two oldest cats here and had known to return as soon as they ground had started shaking. The group huddled close together as the earth continued to shake violently. Nightmare shut his eyes tight and hoped his little group would be alright. The whispers continued to fill his ears, seemingly louder than before. Their words were unintelligible, almost like they were speaking nonsense. A sensation deep within Nightmare commanded to hold his group close and wait it out. Every muscle tensed before an uncontrollable force raced through him.
Raising his head from Lark's quivering shoulder, Nightmare yowled with the power the force came with, "ENOUGH!"
The earth-shaking starting dying down. A few small rocks clattered down onto the group. All the larger falling debris stopped. The cats stayed still. They were terrified of moving from their spots. Nightmare looked around, noticing how none of the large broken pieces of rock had fallen on them. He looked up to see a relatively smooth roof. Whoever had chosen this spot for Tiger and Fall had been wise. There was nothing up there to break unless the whole roof fell. His right ear suddenly turned as a rumbling, gravely voice spoke into it:
"I heard you."
Dawn's light slowly poured across the sky, bathing the forest in a red-orange glow. Thick trees towered above the cool forest floor. Thick brush rustled as animals moved. Silence hung over the land like a foreboding cloud. Here the slightest sound turned one into a target. Your only chance was to keep low, stay quiet, and hold your breath every second. Only the largest of animals moved around without fear. Hope could not save you. Claws and teeth could only do so much to protect you. That was the way of this cruel world.
Sunlight briefly shined on a silver pelt. Dark gray stripes allowed the she-cat to blend in the shadows. Paws carefully tested each step before committing. Ears and ice blue eyes constantly searched for threats. The earth vibrated, making the silver tabby she-cat pause. Deep, quiet breaths kept her lean, swift body relaxed. She was poised. She was a natural hunter. The Forest Region was her domain. A slight breeze made the bushes rustle, allowing her to approach closer. The fur on her back rose upward. She couldn't place it, but something was not right. It made her tense, her paws tingle, and her shiver to race down her spine. Tentatively she sniffed the air then turned in a complete circle. Her home, her territory, seemed to be holding its breath. Like the calm before a major storm.
Change was coming, of that the she-cat was certain.
Vibrations, stronger this time, made the she-cat glance southward. Crouching low, she pulled closer to the source. The she-cat could her targets through the dense foliage: voles. The little creatures silently scurried in all directions as hooves came down. A herd of large, long-legged, brown animals were grazing on the foliage. The she-cat remembered her father calling them deer. They were creating the vibrations the she-cat could feel. She snarled in annoyance. The voles were being intelligent, hiding amongst the herd. The females, like all mothers, were highly protective of their young. That would make getting closer nigh impossible. Ice blue eyes glanced left, where her younger brother should be hiding. The two needed food…
That meant Aspen had to create a big distraction.
Another breeze carried the haunting feeling to her again. Aspen flicked her silver ears and shoved the gnawing worry deep down. Right now, she had to focus. Distractions weren't her strong suit. Yet survival, especially the survival of her brother Pine, was of utmost importance. If she needed a distraction equaled survival, then a distraction she would make. Then her sharp eyes spotted movement. Hopping around the ground was a flock of small brown birds. The deer were ignoring them, as were the voles. However, if the flock took off in a panic then the deer would flee as well. The flock was focused on eating any unfortunate bug they found. None were keeping watch. Sharp teeth grabbed a stone. Aspen shifted a little then hurled the stone. It struck a tree and landed in the middle of the flock. Raucous, panicked cries filled the air. Feathers flew in all directions as the flock took flight. Aspen flattened her ears and crouched low as the herd of deer took off, their powerful hooves shaking the earth and kicking up dirt.
Like a streak of lightning, Aspen dashed into the fray. Sharp claws brought down three voles in rapid succession. A brown tabby body leaped over a moss-covered fallen log. Pine, white markings on his lower face and paws glowing red in the sunlight, landed on three voles. Claws slashed through the empty air on either side as he futilely attempted to grab more. Aspen bounded over and seized ahold of his tail. A flick of her tail told him to follow. The distraction worked wonders, but it also created a lot of noise. Noise was bad. Noise could get them killed. They had to hurry home and enjoy their meal.
Pine quietly laughed as he chased a butterfly around the tiny clearing between tree roots and a rotten tree. As it fluttered away, the brown tabby turned and pounced on a moss ball. Rolling onto his back, Pine's back paws pummeled his invisible enemy. Then he started running in circles. Aspen smiled from her spot in their den. If needed, she could leap to her brother's defense in seconds. But there was no danger. Both were enjoying their full bellies and quiet home. Here they were safe. This camp was found by their mother shortly before Aspen's birth. With their parents gone, this was all they had left besides each other. Breathing deep, Aspen lifted her head to listen to the rustling leaves. The breeze continued to hold a haunting, foreboding edge but the silver tabby chose to ignore it. There was no immediate threat so there was no point in being tense. Relaxing kept her energy up. It kept her ready for anything…
Then she stiffened.
Ears flicked as another breeze blew by. Was she imagining it? The leaves rustled and a few branches rubbed against each other. Yet, hidden under it all, Aspen could swear she heard someone talking. Shaking her head vigorously, Aspen tried to be reasonable. No one could talk soft enough to appear as a whisper. There were no scents in the air. It was just Pine and her. No one else. Her heart started hammering deep in her chest. Panic was taking over. Suddenly Aspen leaped to her paws and dashed away. Only a few puffs of dust marked her passage. Pine froze in place and stared after his sister, confused and a little scared.
The world around her became a blur of greens and browns. The breeze continued to blow. Quietly the voice continued to whisper. It never got softer. It never got louder. The voice simply existed. Aspen couldn't understand the words. Logic was asking why she was running so fast, chasing something that couldn't be. The she-cat's heart and paws, however, demanded that she keep running. She felt like she had to be somewhere. She felt like the forest was calling out to her. Only upon reaching a small creek did Aspen stop. Her breath was coming out in quiet, shallow pants. Ice blue eyes studied the world around her.
Sand felt warm and soft beneath her pads. The small creek gurgled as the water moved over stones. Aspen's ears flicked back and forth. The leaves from bushes and trees continued to shake, but the breeze had stopped. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. Aspen's uneasiness and panic increased tenfold. Whatever she had been sensing all day, it was finally coming to a head. Ice blue eyes went wide. All around her, so quiet they almost didn't exist, were whispers. They seemed friendly enough. Some were questioning. Others demanding. Most were simply talking. Aspen titled her head sideways and listened. She still couldn't make out any words. Her paws were no longer itching, meaning she found where she had to be. So what was she supposed to do?
A silent gasp escapes Aspen. A powerful feeling rushed through her. Claws dig deep into the soft sand. Aspen's mouth opens. She can feel the words filling her throat. They were fighting to reach her tongue and escape. Snapping her mouth shut, Aspen fluffed out her fur and fought. She couldn't speak! Secrets were everything. Secrets kept one alive out here. Yet all her doubts and worries fought to escape. The whispers continued to wrap around her. Now they seemed excited. Is that what they wanted? For her to spill everything that ever bothered her? Aspen glared out into the forest. No. She wouldn't speak. Speaking would spell disaster for her and Pine. Eyes shut as Aspen thought about how speaking would risk Pine's safety.
Slowly her eyes opened once more. The world had gone silent. The breeze no longer blew or the leaves rustled. No birds sang beautiful songs. No small animals moved through the undergrowth. The only thing still there were the voices. They were becoming overwhelming. They seemed desperately reaching for the words and doubts and fears she was fighting to keep inside. Tears started forming as Aspen's body fought harder. Only her willpower was keeping her in check.
A warm body suddenly pressed into her side. A calming tail rests on her shoulders. That's when the whispers stop. The unrelenting force released Aspen and nature took a breath. Birds started singing once more. A frog or two started croaking; one leaped into the creek. Life returned to normal. Ice blue eyes turned to look at Pine. The brown tabby titled his head at his sister. He was worried. Worried for his beloved sister. Aspen smiled at him then flicked her tail in the direction of home. That's where they belonged. Whatever just happened, it was over. Nothing to worry about anymore.
Padding in silence, Aspen let her thoughts wonder. Her mother used to tell her and Pine stories as they rested against her belly. They were about how creatures of old, known as humans, abused nature. Then nature fought back and took control. Looking towards the sky, Aspen remembered her mother telling her about the Nature Spirits who walked land ever since. Were those stories true? Was it a Nature Spirit that tried to make her talk? Or was it something else entirely? The silver tabby didn't know. Her heart beat in fear. Had she made the right decision? Was her heart's desire worth fighting for? Then she noticed Pine was watching her again, still very much concerned for the day's events. Aspen smiled at him. Deep inside, she shrugged off the swirling thoughts. A change was coming to her territory but that was a problem for another day.
Snow slowly floated down from the dark skies. Deep blue eyes watched a searching fox from a ledge. Light gray paws were perched close to the edge and the light gray tail tip slowly flicked back and forth. This white tom was ready. The fox had been hunting him for four days now. He was tired of running. Fighting was the only answer. A cold, bone-biting, northern wind moved his white fur, revealing pale pink scars. He wasn't afraid of a fight. He wouldn't back down to anyone anymore. That time was in his past.
The fox looked up as a shadow blocked out the moonlight. Razor sharp claws shined in the pale light. It noticed the scar crossing over the left eye before the deadly gleam. Next was the scratch over the muzzle. Finally, the fox noticed the V-cut in the right ear. Then those shining claws ripped into its face. Releasing a cry of pain, the fox tossed the cat off. The tom rolled, covering the long scar that crossed his back from the left shoulder to the right leg in snow powder. A fierce hiss told the fox the cat was incoming. Claws sliced through the soft neck. A few breaths later and the fox was dead. The tom simply padded away from the body. Larger predators would come running to the scent of death. Better to be long gone by then. A small smile touched the tom's lips.
Guess he wasn't weak anymore.
Upon reaching his den, a hole dug into the snow, Jasper curled up. He had eaten earlier that night. Now was the time for sleep. Now was the time to dream of being back home. Many might dream about seeing loved ones again but not this tom. His dreams were much darker. Every night he stalked through the scant grass of the Frozen South, hunting for a particular cat. Every night he would succeed in showing said cat how powerful he had become. No longer was Jasper going to roll over and let another take advantage. Jasper wasn't going to let the cat live for what he had done.
Jasper woke long before dawn started lighting the sky. Quietly he crouched by the entrance to his den. He could hear some birds squawking at one another. His tongue ran over his lips. They would be easy targets. But the thin trees of the Frozen North provided little cover. He had to bide his time and wait. Normally Jasper would wait until night to hunt but one can't be too picky. This Region was harsh and those who lived here had to be immovable and patient. One of the angry birds chased its opponent closer to Jasper's home. Snow flew as he exploded into action. Sharp teeth in the neck was the last thing the bird knew.
Jasper grunted in annoyance. The bird was a long-necked goose. Plenty of meat but very heavy. Powerful, heavily muscled, thick legs dug into the snow. Shoulder muscles rippled. Soon the snow goose slid into Jasper's den. The other had taken off in a panic. Deep blue eyes looked to the horizon. Dawn was still awhile off. Shrugging, the tom turned and padded away. The cold air would keep the kill fresh. Early mornings or nights were peaceful and quiet. That's what Jasper preferred. It left him alone with his thoughts. It allowed him to nurse the hate in his heart.
Dawn's light was barely peeping over the distant mountains when the wind kicked up. Jasper's fur fluffed outward as it hit him. A storm was brewing. The tom shrugged. The snow goose would last him several days. He didn't need to worry about any storm. Slowly he turned, intending to take a long arc home. Ears flicked constantly and eyes studied every thin tree and dark rock. Even while enjoying the peace and quiet, Jasper was always ready for a threat to come his way. That's how his father taught him to survive. That's how he managed to adapt to a Region he wasn't born in.
But it also made him ready to help others.
Jasper froze as he saw a pale white cat standing in front of him. The cat didn't move or blink. It simply watched him. The tom blinked rapidly, trying to focus. He had to be seeing things. The white pelt seemed to shine like the tiny stars in the night sky. Snorting, Jasper realized that the cold wind and snow were making his eyes lose focus. Then he glared at the cat and unsheathed his claws. The cat tilted its head to the right, studied his aggressive stance, then padded away. Jasper smirked. No cat ever challenged him. He was too big and strong. Plus the scars made him seem more dangerous than perhaps he was. It didn't really matter. The cat backed down. He was clear to continued on his way home.
YOWL
Jasper spun towards the source of the sound. That was cry of pain. Someone was in trouble. Was it the cat he had just seen? YOWL! No, this cat was younger. Powerful legs propelled him forwarded through the deep snow. Sharp claws unsheathed. Teeth bared in a terrifying snarl. The large badger, which was attacking a tiny bundle of fur, heard Jasper coming. It turned in time for the cat to slam his shoulder into the badger's side and roll it over. A roar of anger preceded slashing claws. Blood flew as one claw caught Jasper's tail (-1 health). Spitting with rage, the white and light gray tom reared upward. Those razor-sharp claws left deep cuts in the black, white, and gray fur. The badger snapped at its opponent but Jasper had leapt away. Deep blue eyes spotted the white cat picking up the shivering, terrified black bundle. He gasped in shock. Those eyes were different. One was dark like the night sky, shining as though greenleaf's sunlight was within. The other was a light blue, so light that it was almost white as snow and feeling just as cold. A roar from the badger snapped Jasper's attention back to reality. With a hiss, he ducked under a swinging paw. Quickly he bit at the badger's neck, disengaged, and bolted. Out of the corner of his eye, Jasper saw the white cat hauling the small cat away. Tail held high declared no fear of danger. A swagger in the walk made the cat vanish and reappear like it didn't exist.
"I'm seeing things," Jasper's deep voice rumbled.
A few more minutes of running allowed Jasper to lose the enraged badger. He spent another hour trudging through deep snow towards home. To make matters worse, a snowstorm decided to start, obscuring his vision. Frost quickly clung to his fur. Soon he was panting with exhaustion. The cold was draining his energy like heat evaporating dew. At least he had food in his den. At least said den was warm and cozy. All he had to do was reach it. Jasper felt his heart soar when he spotted it. The snowstorm was dying down. It left the world quiet and bright white. Sunlight broke through the clouds. Jasper stopped in horror. His snow goose had been dragged out of his den and taken. Large footprints told him it was a lone wolf.
Snarling, Jasper threw back his head and yowled in frustration. Why was fate so cruel to him? His family didn't like him, forcing him to run away. He lost his only sister, the only one who ever loved him. Now, after risking his life to save a bundle of fur and bones, his food had been taken. What was he supposed to eat? How was he supposed to regain the energy he had lost? Jasper spat at the snowy ground. Yes, the world absolutely hated him. Something in the world wanted him dead for some reason. Then Jasper chuckled.
"If the world wants me dead, then I'll just have to prove myself stronger," he meowed.
Bounding away, the white and light gray tom failed to see the white cat following in his pawprints.
"Meadowlark! By the stars, where did you wander off to now!" a brown she-cat with a white muzzle screeched impatiently.
A short-haired, light brown she-cat with black and darker brown stripes, white paws, white jaw to tail, and black spots on her legs crouched lower in the tall grass. Yellow eyes watched the brown she-cat, known as Vipertail, stalk off to another part of camp. Slowly she breathed a sigh of relief. Vipertail was one of her mentors, charged with teaching Meadowlark how to settle disputes between Clanmates. Cautiously the she-cat approached the camp entrance where Nightshade, a black tom with green eyes, and Windblade, a tuxedo black and white she-cat with amber eyes, were standing guard. Both were watching Vipertail with cold curiosity. Both understood that Meadowlark was trying to escape her lessons yet again. A snarl of annoyance pulled at Meadowlark's lips. Guess leaving via the entrance was a futile endeavor. She turned away to search for another exit.
She found one in a small hole under the camp wall. Sniffing the ground, Meadowlark realized that the younger cats in training were using this exit to escape their chores. Yellow eyes gained a sad tint. She knew all of these cats by name, but none were her friends. How could they be friends with her after all? That was how everyone in camp treated her. She was Meadowlark, daughter of Moonstar and Heatherstripe, the next leader of her Clan. One day she would lead her Clan in their ways. One day she would lead them in epic battles and while out hunting. She was from the chosen bloodline, destined to stand above all else. Meadowlark stuck her tongue out in disgust. She wasn't like that. She wasn't her father; didn't fit in his image. She was different…
But maybe that wasn't a good thing.
Padding through the tall grass, Meadowlark did her best to ignore the whispers in her head. Tall, thin trees towered above her. She knew this was the very edge of the Forest Region. A day's journey beyond her Clan's current camp was the Frozen South Region. Here the trees, though maintaining their thickness, were sparse and spread out. In front of her they continuously grew closer. Tall grass would eventually give way to the dense undergrowth or the short grass and snowy ground. Several birds flew overhead, following one another as if in a game of chase. Meadowlark smiled as she watched them. They were so free. They were perfect just the way they were. A soft breeze made the grass dance. Chuckling, the she-cat pulled her paws closer together and allowed the breeze to sway her like the grass. Maybe it was odd behavior, but she didn't care. This was perfect. Being free with no restrictions or lessons or rules made Meadowlark feel alive. It made her feel happy.
White paws carried her onto a flat stone. Sitting proudly above the grass, the striped she-cat breathed in the free air. Yellow eyes stared off into the distance. What was out there, beyond Clan boundaries? If she left, what kinds of cats would she meet? Tales of different lands were told by the elders. What did they look like? What new skills had the cats who lived there develop? Meadowlark could imagine herself journey from one land to another. She could see herself meeting new cats and making friends, perhaps even learning some of their skills. Meeting outsiders was forbidden in the Clan. It was to keep the bloodlines untainted. Yet Meadowlark had spoken with many travelers. They had such wonderous stories to tell. Many had braved and survived dangerous adventures. For young Meadowlark, the ability to travel, see, and learn was merely a fantasy. She longed for it so badly.
"There you are, Meadowlark! We've been looking everywhere for you. Vipertail is waiting with your lessons," a male voice called out.
Watching several meadowlarks fly with the wind, the she-cat sighed, "Coming, Eagleclaw."
She longed for her fantasy to come true. However, her Clan would never let her leave willing and running away would end in banishment. Meadowlark loved her family, but her heart called her beyond the borders. Following her Clanmates to camp, she wondered if her fantasy would ever be worth losing those she loved.
"And then, the Water Spirit came rushing with very ocean behind it. The humans couldn't do anything to stop it! But she couldn't reach far enough over the ground to get every single one. The Rock Spirit and the Air Spirit quickly raced in to help their friend…(Grunt of effort)"
"Fascinating."
"The Air Spirit gathered up more water from all around and brought it closer. The Rock Spirit caused the ground to shift, making it easier for the water to move. Then the Day Spirit and the Night Spirit decided to join the fight. The Day Spirit used its power over the sun to cover everything in a blinding light. The Night Spirit traded places when the Day Spirit grew exhausted, covering the whole land in darkness where no one could see a thing. That's when the Sand Spirit stepped back into the fight by weakening the ground beneath the humans' feet. The Storm Spirit was shooting lightning bolts, the only light in existence for days, and working with the Air Spirit to create massive, spiraling columns of air. I mean, that would have been awesome to see! The evil humans being utterly destroyed by the Nature Spirits! Wouldn't you want to see that too, Tiger!?"
"No," Tiger, a ginger-brown tom with black stripes meowed. He was bored, as his tone suggested.
Padding behind him was his sister, Leopard, a bengal-patterned she-cat of various browns, tans, and red-orange coat, black stripes and spots, and a white jaw. Her green-yellow eyes closed briefly as a wave sent spray into her face. Draped cross her back were three large fish. Her tail flicked excess water off. Then she glowered at her brother. A rogue had told her this story yesterday in exchange for the food Leopard had given him. Father, a red-brown tom by the name of Crag, had been furious with her. Her punishment was to clean out their den instead of listening to their mother's stories. Unfortunately, Leopard was a quick in body as she was in mind. A few minutes after starting her punishment, Leopard was sitting with her two siblings with everything cleaned spotless. Now she was trying to share her new knowledge with her brother.
"You need focus on priorities, Leopard," Tiger meowed as he watched Leopard haul herself up another steep slope. He flicked his striped tail in annoyance, "These myths and legends are meaningless. They won't feed or protect our family. Family must come before all else."
Leopard let out a huff of annoyance, "Why do you have to quote every chance you get? And what if these stories aren't just myths? What if they're real? That could mean so much! That would explain so much about our world!"
"And if they're not real, spending time on them distracts you from other duties," the tom growled before turning and walking onward.
His sibling bounded after him. A low growl echoed from her throat. A quick flick of Tiger's tail told her he noticed the sound and wanted her to stop. That only drew a snarl from Leopard. Her family always said the same things: "legends aren't real" or "family must come before all else" or "stories don't catch food". It infuriated her. These stories had to have some basis in truth. Why else would cats still be sharing these stories if they weren't? Leopard didn't want to leave her home and travel the world in search of the Nature Spirits. The stories didn't make them out to be overly friendly beings. All Leopard wanted was to learn! Out of all her family, Leopard was the most curious. Curiosity was a dangerous thing, according to her father. Yet Leopard had discovered so much that had benefitted her family. This included various herbs, new hunting spots, better dens, and a sandy beach where they could rest from the pounding waves of the Sea-shore Caverns. Her curiosity had been a benefit so why was her family still trying to crush her natural habit?
Leopard looked upward, where a small hole in the rock indicated their den. Her older sister, Sand, was sitting outside. A light tan she-cat with ginger with slightly darker stripes and white paws, Sand stood out boldly against the dark rock. However, she would blend perfectly with the sandy beaches. Green eyes watched as her two siblings climbed towards the den. Leopard beamed up at her. Her sister merely rolled her eyes. Leopard simply huffed. Sand was being her normal, grumpy and moody self. Just like Tiger, she followed her father's example. Crag was always grumpy about something, overly focused on doing things "the traditional way", downright aggressive to newcomers and distant every other time. Her mother, Robin, was a little more relaxed when it came to adventuring – "a little" meaning she'll glare with annoyance rather than snap and growl. At least this time Leopard had followed orders. She helped Tiger fish, catching seven fish between them, and hadn't wandered off. At the very least her parents wouldn't bite her head off today.
Entering the den, Leopard spotted their father grooming his mate's red-orange coat. The enlarged, sandy belly declared Robin's pregnancy. It was also a reminder as to why their father was stricter on the hunting and patrolling schedules recently. Leopard didn't mind at all. She wanted to help her mother and unborn siblings. If that meant focusing more on hunting, then so be it. Patrolling and fighting on the other paw…well, why couldn't they simply relax. Most cats they ran across were well-known neighbors. The random few loners and rogues rarely showed any aggression. Most were actually surprised when Leopard's family attacked. Again, Father's excuse was to trust no one and defend their family above all else.
"We caught seven large fish," Tiger meowed, dumping the four he was carrying.
Father looked up, watched as Leopard dumped her three, then growled, "Did Leopard behave?"
Leopard felt her fur fluff out with anger at that. Her claws flexed as she growled, "Of course I did! Mom needs the fresh-kill. I'm not dumb to wander off when my help is needed."
"She did her job," Tiger meowed before stalking off to his nest. Only with Tiger's response did their father nod and go back to grooming.
Robin opened one amber eye and meowed to Leopard, "Can you bring one of those fish closer, dear? It smells awfully good."
Sand snickered, which earned a baleful look from Leopard. Leopard grabbed the largest fish and carried it over. She raised her head high to keep it from dragging and collecting sand from the ground. The last thing her mother needed was to be eating sand. Her father ignored her as she placed the fish down. Robin immediately began eating. A flick of her tail was her thank you. With that, Leopard stalked off to her nest at the back of the den. Her father had put her there in a futile attempt to discourage nighttime adventures. However, it also provided the bengal-patterned she-cat with the opportunity to store exciting items. One such item was black ball. It was completely smooth and perfectly round. Leopard had found it one night in the sand. The black ball would sparkle in the moonlight, as if many stars called it home. It was Leopard's most prized possession, so she kept it hidden under a cleft. Every now and again she would move it so her father couldn't threaten to throw it out. All other treasures, from seashells to shiny rocks to interesting and random items brought to shore, were stored on the various shelves formed by running water.
Reaching under the cleft, Leopard pulled the black ball towards her. It was small enough to fit neatly between her small paws. A shaft of sunlight came through a crack in the den's roof. The ball only seemed to get darker. Then the sunlight was blocked by another cloud. Green-yellow eyes narrowed. Why did sunlight cause the black ball to get darker? Why did moonlight cause it to shine like the stars? Then her mind jumped to an older question: where had it come from? Who made it? Did that creature want it back at some point? Yet Leopard had guarded this ball from almost ten moons. No one seemed to be looking for it. Maybe they didn't know she had it. Purring, Leopard rubbed her cheek against the smooth surface. This little object was surrounded in mystery…
And Leopard loved solving mysteries.
The sun was slowly tracing its way across the sky over the Forest Region. Amber eyes studied the pattern left on the ground. Razor sharp claws drew a mark in the dirt. Everyday this cat would sit was wait, monitoring the changes in the sun's arc. No creature dared to disturb this cat. No creature dared to destroy what he was doing. Several tail-lengths away was a bramble patch. This was the brown tom's den. Dark brown paws quivered with anticipation. Sunlight warmed his back, where a wide stripe of dark brown ran the length from neck to tail base. Dark brown ears flicked as he listened for any sign of danger. He was ready, either to fix his little map or to attack a threat. His short tail laid completely still. This tom was patient. This tom had a goal in mind to reach.
A large beetle crawled onto that short tail, which had been shorten in a fight as evident by the pink scar. Sharp claws flashed, hooked the beetle, before dragging it around the tom's body. Teeth easily destroyed the hard, protective shell. The tom's tongue cleaned his claws. He didn't care what he ate. Tracking the sun's movements were far more important to him. Amber eyes saw the sun shift but dismissed it. A breeze was blowing past and was shaking the leaves. That made the sunlight change. Both ears picked up the sound of prey rustling in the bushes. The scent of fox entered his nose. Soon a rabbit's cry rang out before being quickly end. A cold smile touched his lips. Guess the rabbit wasn't fast enough.
Slowly a tremble ran down the tom's spine. Fur rose, revealing many scars across his pelt. This tom was a fighter. Sharp claws and teeth were known to be merciless. That's why no creature dared to disturb him. No one wanted to try their luck in a fight. A couple days previously a starving badger decided to pick a fight. All it remembered was a gleam of annoyance in those amber eyes. Then the gleam turned into a light of pleasure. A few short, carefully planned strokes later and the badger was dead. The tom simply drew the next mark in the dirt with his bloody claws. He didn't care about burying the animal. He didn't really care if the carcass attracted other predators. The tom would simply deal with them the same way. Fighting was a boring art to the tom. He had mastered it a while back and had little fear of his opponents beating him. All that mattered to him was his current obsession.
Amber eyes flicked over to his right. A single beam of light was focused on a tree trunk. Slowly he turned, head tilted to the left as he studied it. This was a new phenomenon. The tom had been studying the moving sun over several moons now and this never happened. Not even the shifting of the tree branches and leaves could do this. The beam was too perfect. Stepping up to the trunk, he reached a dark brown paw forward. The light suddenly moved to another trunk roughly three tail-lengths away. Smiling, the tom trotted after it, his short tail held high. Reaching the tree, he reached again only for the beam to move to another tree. Now certain something special was happening, the tom kept on padding after the beam. Soon the beam would wait until he reached the tree then move, rather then waiting for him to reach for it.
The beam finally stopped in a tiny clearing, disappearing into the full sunlight. Without hesitation or fear, the tom trotted into the open. Amber eyes looked around for the beam. Not seeing it, he sat down. Ears twitched and turned. Eyes never ceased to roam. Now it was a waiting game. He had been led here for a reason. The tom was willing to wait. Watching the sunlight move on the trees and ground allowed him to keep track of time. It was nearing sunhigh when a presence could be felt. The tom smiled. Just as he suspected.
"Greetings," me meowed without turning to face the newcomer. "My name is Tangle. I've been wanting to meet with you for quite some time."
"An honorable goal but you are unworthy," a cold voice growled.
Tangle's head snapped left as claws raked across his face. Grunting, the tom collapsed to the ground unconscious.
A small squeak of fear rang through the air. Ears twitched in curiosity. Slowly a predator prowled closer to the small den made of reeds. Inside, nestled among feathers and moss was a tiny bundle of silver fur. Yellow eyes stared at the bundle hungrily. It wouldn't be much of a meal, but food was food. Claws glistened in the dusk light. A large tongue curled over razor sharp teeth. This was a very young cougar. Its mother had died several moons ago and it was struggling to survive. The tiny bundle of fur could hold off starvation a little longer. Muscles rippled under tan fur. Sensing the incoming danger, the bundle of fur let out another tiny meow. The cougar paused. Something was not right in the world. It could sense something else nearby. The kit before it wasn't multicolored like all poisonous prey were. No, it was the scent sticking to every bush and patch of dirt.
The bushes shook right before a large body launched forward. The cougar yowled in terror. Bright orange and white were stark against the black patches. Darker orange stripes could be seen in the larger patches of orange. Green eyes, tinged with blue, showed a mother's love. This same fierce love and desire to protect the young had been what the cougar's mother to her death. Sharp claws raked across the cub's muzzle. It yowled in terror. Not knowing any better, it dropped to the ground and covered its face with its tan paws. It expected the attack to continue. It expected to die right then and there for making the mistake of attacking a mother's kit.
Instead a tongue ran through its head fur.
Looking up, amber eyes stared at the large calico she-cat. Green eyes were filled with shock. However, as she studied the young, orphaned cub, understanding crept in. She smiled warmly, almost apologetically. Of course the cub would target her kit. Fog was only three moons old and unable to defend herself. Turning, the calico padded into the nearby bushes. The cougar sat up, thoroughly confused by the sudden turn of events. Soon the calico returned, her bushy tail held high and swishing slightly. In her jaws was a rabbit. She placed it before the cougar. An encouraging smile touched her features.
A soft voice, like the gurgling marsh water, whispered gently, "Go on, young one. I've eaten my fill today. You can take it."
The cub sniffed at the rabbit. It looked up at the large calico and let out a small meow. Claws seized ahold of the rabbit before it dug in. The calico turned and padded over to her den. There she curled protectively around her little kit. Fog, a silver she-cat with white patches, looked up at her mother with wide blue eyes. She resembled her father up until the patches and the lean but muscular frame. Pond, the calico's second kit, had been a calico like his mother. However, he had passed shortly after the kitting. A gentle lick parted Fog's ears. The kit meowed happily. She could still sense the presence from before, but her mother was here now. Fog know that nothing would hurt her. Mew wouldn't let anything even harmlessly bat at her kit. Not as long as she breathed. A warm purr came from Mew's white throat.
Her green eyes rose as the young cougar shifted position. Amber eyes were now staring at her. A pained heart could be clearly seen. The cougar missed his mother. He missed cuddling with his siblings. He missed having Fog's undying certainly of food and a safe home. The Marsh Region was harsh region. The life-giving water also held many dangers. The water itself could become the threat during the rainy season. Mew's pink nose twitched, a habit when she was thinking. The cougar could very easily become a threat to Fog again. She couldn't allow that. However, she knew the cougar wouldn't last long alone. Other cougar mothers would kill him without thought. It seemed wrong to leave to die, alone and scared. She was stuck in a no-win situation.
Sighing, Mew rose and picked up Fog. She started padding away. A low, depressed cry made her look back at the cougar cub. It had sat up. Pain shined from its amber eyes. Hunger made its body quiver weakly. Mew's heart was torn in two. One half begged her to leave with Fog, keep her daughter safe. The other half begged her to bring the cub along and at least watch over him until he was big enough to live alone. Finally making a decision, Mew flicked her patched tail to the cub. It rose to its paws, took a hesitant step closer, then sat back down. Mew raised her eyes to the sky above. She trotted off with Fog. Finding her secondary den, a small hole high up in a willow tree, she clambered up. Inside she had already prepared the new nest. Today was the day she was transferring Fog to a new, more secure den. The rainy season was coming and the strong willow would withstand coming floods. This den would due until the next dry season. Fog immediately snuggled into the moss. Her front paws, the right one being white and the left being gray, grabbed at a random feather. Mew purred and nuzzled her little daughter.
The cougar cub looked up from his meal as pawsteps came to his ears. Mew appeared from the bushes without the small kit. A quiet, scared sound came from his mouth. The calico smiled warmly. Unafraid, she stepped close and licked him between the ears. He was frightened of her. He was frightened of everything around him. Mew gingerly ran her nose down his neck. Finding his scruff, she grabbed it in her teeth and pulled. A grunt escaped her. For being mostly skin and bone, the young cougar was certainly heavy. With another cry, the cougar kicked at the ground, which only succeeded in rolling the two over. Terror-filled amber eyes looked into green eyes. Mew smiled at him before licking his muzzle and using her back legs to push him off. Standing up, she signaled with both her head and tail for him to follow. Hesitantly the little cougar obeyed.
Night had come by the time Mew managed to coax the cougar home. Climbing the tree, she waited at each branch for him to reach her. Above the small hole where Fog was sound asleep was a nook between several branches. Here the young cougar found enough room to curl up. Mew gingerly licked at the three scratches she given him. Climbing down, she bounded to several bushes with herbs. These she used to care for him. Amber eyes slowly drooped then closed as he realized he was safe. Mew sat beside him. He wasn't her son but that didn't mean she couldn't help him. Her front left paw, which was orange with one white toe, pressed into his side. He was breathing deep and even. Mew purred, nuzzled him gently, before climbing down to her nest. Fog let out a sleepy, happy meow as her mother curled around her.
When dawn came, Mew found the young cougar gone. His scent was stale, meaning he had left during the night. She shrugged. It was his choice whether he stayed or left. Fog needed her love and care. Maybe her kindness would make him less likely to hunt Fog in the future. Mew didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to hunt. She needed food if she was going to care for Fog to the best of her ability.
It's finally done! The first chapter of The Crumbled Earth!
The order of the cats is in accordance to who proofread and approved of their character's story and submitted it to me. The order is Nightmare, Aspen, Jasper, Meadowlark, Leopard, Tangle, and Mew. In the future, I'll title each section with the character's name but for this one I want to introduce them by jumping straight into their stories.
All players will be receiving the next piece of gameplay by tomorrow night (Monday night) at the latest. You have until Saturday (December 8) to submit your response.
Hopefully these chapters will go faster now that I have a better understanding of each character but understand that everyone does have a life and life sometimes keeps things from running smoothly.
Want more information on each character over the world as a whole, then follow this link (just add periods in the spaces): thecrumbledearthrpg weebly com