Post by Deleted on Dec 19, 2009 8:00:01 GMT -8
Blood was astonishing around the area. There was drops of blood hinting every tiny piece of grass, frost. It was easy to see, since of the white pellet of snow everywhere, the dark color of the musty Blood had fallen upon it.
Everything was still, no sound was being made. Although, there was a soft sound, breathing. Of course, Cicatrice and Leo did not hear it, they were to occupied with Cicatrice's wounds, Minnow, Venus, and the kits.
There was a dark gray tom laying in the middle of the clearing, that had musted up blood cringed against his fur. There was low breathing, but you could hardly tell.
His eyes were closed, his paws were not moving. Nothing was moving from him, except for the light up and down of his stomach.
Most of his fur was missing, but you could tell he was still dark gray, except for the dried blood of course.
He nose had a tear, dark red flesh escaping from it. Both of his ears were tore, almost looking cut off in half.
Snow started to fall softly, covering up his sore flesh. When one single snowflake fell on the piece of flesh on his flank, he let out a groan.
He slowly got up, his eyes drowsily open.
"Am I dead?"
He muttered.
He looked around, everything being blurry in his sight. Everything looked normal, looked like he wasn't dead at all.
"Guess not.."
He choked a bit, spitting out some blood.
He sighed, being very sore.
He simply got up, and sniffed around, a small pile of herbs still left behind. Of course, they weren't very useful to his wounds.
He could die. He could die right now, soon, since of loss of blood.
The only cobwebs there were ones used, and they had not much more use to them.
His eyes looked around groggily, as he coughed up more blood.
He noticed paw-steps in the snow, leading over towards the bracken river. They were stale, but the scent of Leo, Cicatrice, and his family were there.
He followed the pawsteps, which led to the frozen river. Snow was scraped off, but was still piled up as a look of a cat was there.
"It seems stable.."
He slowly padded across it, following the paw-steps that was on the other side of the river.
---
The bulky black tom was slowly limping, two little kits in his jaws. They were dozing off, his flank leaning against a she-cat. He didn't look like he was in good shape, since most of his fur was gone.
Scraps of fur was hanging from his underbelly, little tiny drops of blood falling down on the earth. The cat did not speak, for it hurt to much.
It hurt for him to even breath.
Both of his ears looked gone, one of his forepaws open, and one of the back paws open. He didn't look good at all.
His face had multiple scratches, one across his right eye, making it closed, and one going down his left cheek.
He didn't look pretty anymore, or handsome for that matter.
He suddenly stopped and looked to the left, which was in the she-cat's direction.
He placed the two kits on the ground, and stared off at her.
"Do you think.. Clear is dead?"
He croaked that, his throat feeling as if it had a large lump.
Right after he spoke, he picked the kits back up, his bobtail twitching, which was only a piece of skin, and not fur.
Everything was still, no sound was being made. Although, there was a soft sound, breathing. Of course, Cicatrice and Leo did not hear it, they were to occupied with Cicatrice's wounds, Minnow, Venus, and the kits.
There was a dark gray tom laying in the middle of the clearing, that had musted up blood cringed against his fur. There was low breathing, but you could hardly tell.
His eyes were closed, his paws were not moving. Nothing was moving from him, except for the light up and down of his stomach.
Most of his fur was missing, but you could tell he was still dark gray, except for the dried blood of course.
He nose had a tear, dark red flesh escaping from it. Both of his ears were tore, almost looking cut off in half.
Snow started to fall softly, covering up his sore flesh. When one single snowflake fell on the piece of flesh on his flank, he let out a groan.
He slowly got up, his eyes drowsily open.
"Am I dead?"
He muttered.
He looked around, everything being blurry in his sight. Everything looked normal, looked like he wasn't dead at all.
"Guess not.."
He choked a bit, spitting out some blood.
He sighed, being very sore.
He simply got up, and sniffed around, a small pile of herbs still left behind. Of course, they weren't very useful to his wounds.
He could die. He could die right now, soon, since of loss of blood.
The only cobwebs there were ones used, and they had not much more use to them.
His eyes looked around groggily, as he coughed up more blood.
He noticed paw-steps in the snow, leading over towards the bracken river. They were stale, but the scent of Leo, Cicatrice, and his family were there.
He followed the pawsteps, which led to the frozen river. Snow was scraped off, but was still piled up as a look of a cat was there.
"It seems stable.."
He slowly padded across it, following the paw-steps that was on the other side of the river.
---
The bulky black tom was slowly limping, two little kits in his jaws. They were dozing off, his flank leaning against a she-cat. He didn't look like he was in good shape, since most of his fur was gone.
Scraps of fur was hanging from his underbelly, little tiny drops of blood falling down on the earth. The cat did not speak, for it hurt to much.
It hurt for him to even breath.
Both of his ears looked gone, one of his forepaws open, and one of the back paws open. He didn't look good at all.
His face had multiple scratches, one across his right eye, making it closed, and one going down his left cheek.
He didn't look pretty anymore, or handsome for that matter.
He suddenly stopped and looked to the left, which was in the she-cat's direction.
He placed the two kits on the ground, and stared off at her.
"Do you think.. Clear is dead?"
He croaked that, his throat feeling as if it had a large lump.
Right after he spoke, he picked the kits back up, his bobtail twitching, which was only a piece of skin, and not fur.
