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by Jazzybear on Sun Sep 22, 2019 2:27 pm
My name is Jazzybear, and I have no idea what I'm getting myself into. I'm only 16, but I cherish writing and literature as if it were my lifeblood. Here are some examples of my writing. Enjoy.
Acorngaze curled her tail against her flank and lay silently, trying to blink away the morning sleepiness. As tired as she felt, she knew she had to get to work. The gorge seemed to groan theatrically as if it were waking itself. In truth, it was quite windy this morning, windy enough to wake the sleeping she-cat, who almost never slept inside the warmer caverns unless on winter nights. She slowly got to her paws, wavering a little as the wind knocked her off balance, and pressed her body along the outer cavern wall for stability. AcornGaze was blind and had to either rely on her fellow clan members or her own self-made guidance. There were some areas like the prey pit and the nursery that were scent marked so she could locate them, but even this only helped a little. What really allowed AcornGaze to move freely around the treacherous gorge and through the many intricate caverns that were somehow all linked, was her own markers. Running her muzzle along the stone wall, AcornGaze felt a line of scratch marks and mixed scents of the past. Moons ago, her mentor, along with many other cats, helped scratch and scent mark the wall; it went throughout the entire camp. Based on how the etchings were placed, the she-cat always knew her location. Without this, she would have succumbed to the gorge ages ago. After a long while of leisurely walking, AcornGaze eventually entered camp and headed in the direction of her medicine den.
The clan activity was how it was normally in the mornings, relaxed and warm. The two inert mothers in the nursery snoozed soundly, their rest aided by the lavender and chamomile that AcornGaze had placed there the night before. Their kits curled up into tight balls of fur, mewing loudly once in a while as they were nudged too far away from their mother's milk by their siblings. As AcornGaze passed the nursery, she felt a twinge of longing, not for kits, but her motherly mentor she had cherished dearly as a kit. Scents of old milk and fresh new scents reminded AcornGaze of the early days, that for her, never existed.
She silently made her way through the remainder of camp, ignoring the tempting scents of the near-empty prey pile. As AcornGaze passed the warriors den she heard the faintest pitter-patter of miniature paws behind her. With a tender smile, the medicine cat turned around and tilted her head, shoving her ears forward to better hear the tiny form.
That was a forum response. No one ever replied in that particular roleplay, but I'm still proud of what I came up with. I may face trouble in the future because I have some psychic sense that animals roleplayers are uncommon here. Oh well. Have another. Feast on my creativity!
The sickening rhythm pulsed throughout it's thoughts. A constant ticking, counting the beast's last waking moments before it succumbed to the unforgiving season. Each crunch as it's paws sank into the snow brought it closer to oblivion. Each step, death minute in decimal. It panted feverishly, before stepping into a scene of past. Blue shadows stretched across it's desolate eyes. Shadows of the long before. Shadows of the dead. The lacerated bodies of behemoths towered above the horizon, casting long shadows that engulfed the beast's own. After pausing, it moved on, practically gliding past giants once locked away within tombs of ice. And then. Quaky with exhaustion. The wolf collapsed.
With a shudder of trepidation, the Fengo awoke from his slumber and wearily lifted his head. The gaze of two green eyes met his own. "Muireann." The Fengo licked his maw, before rising to address her company formally. "You should be asleep. Preferably, within your own den." He gestured over towards the den exit with a swish of his tail. "Meaning, get out. I need to think." He waited expectantly, but to the matriarch's puzzlement, the she-wolf didn't obey his command. Instead, Muireann stared directly into his eyes and furrowed her brow in concern. Then, slowly, as if she was making a point by doing so, she laid down atop the fur pelt she had been standing on. "This is my den," the she-wolf proclaimed in defense.
"You collapsed in front of me, after sleepwalking your way in here and waking me up." Muireann added in a matter of factually type of tone, as if challenging the Fengo himself. She waited impatiently for his intelligent response, and when she received only silence, Muireann sighed and laid her head down. "It's cold outside, and it's a long walk to Sominus. You can stay here for tonight. But you must leave when the sun rises higher than the Craigs."
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