unpleasant Dreams

[Holly]

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=fef7f1] Silversoul was fast asleep after collecting herbs from when Raggedclaws destroyed her stock. She was very limited. All she wanted was some oeace and quiet. of course, thats not what she got. ~~Dream Mode~~ Silversoul padded along side of a creek. The first look it was crystal blue and normal looking. She glanced at it again and she saw it was turning a little red, until the river was completely red. No, not red water, it was clear it was blood. She let out a yowl. "Whats going on!?!?!"Silversoul yowled. Next thong she knew, she saw her old, dead mentor standing in the river. She only said one thing before she started to fade away into the creek. "Death will not conquer a soul bent on murder." Silversoul ran into the creek to catch her mentor. She called after her, "WAIT DON'T GO! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!" Slowly the river of blood drowned her too. ~~END OF DREAM MODE~~ Silversoul woke up in a start. She yowled as loud as she could. She could still smell the blood all around her, although there wasn't any blood on the she-cat. She kept hearing her mentor saying over and over. Death will not conquer a soul bent on murder. The she-cat had a vision from Starclan and she needed to speak with Icestar, Creektwist, and it wouldn't hurt to explain it to her furture apprentice, Sandkit. Silversoul Doing Silversoul Speaking Silversoul Thinking "Other person's cat talking"

[Juniper]

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[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=5f4e4a] The little kit, her deep umber eyes wide with wonder of the world, inhaled the cool scents of AspenClan. She sucked in breaths of the frost that nipped it in dawn, the leafy pine-splashed forest with its woodsy aroma, the tantalizing gulps of fresh oak air that had always soothed her most horrifying nightmares… She drank it all in, allowing it to settle into even the most tucked away crevices of her lungs before releasing it from its prison, a small sigh of contentment. Mothkit, for perhaps the last time in her life, was absolutely relaxed. Having unburdened herself from any hatred that had attached itself to her, barnacle-like fashion, she loped in easy bounds through the sharp grass of the AspenClan woods. She passed the wide, honey-colored tree trunks and the bright berries that glistened in their encasement of thorn brambles. She leapt over gnarled roots loosened from their dwellings beneath the soft earth. She skidded past the stream of birds that flew like daggers right in her way. At last, though she wound through and out of the territory, she was approaching the camp. From where she padded, her dark eyes caught the sight of the bramble-dotted walls of AspenClan. Swiftly, she streaked up the short, grassy knoll and pounded downhill, skirting past the massive clump of trees that blockaded her way. Soon she chanced upon a warm stream that bubbled and frothed beneath the morning sun. A smile playing on her lips, she leapt in, relishing the icy yet lukewarm sensation of it. Glancing to her right, she saw where the stream began to peter out into an even thinner creek. There, too, was a huddled mass of pale fur, dozing lazily on the banks. Curiosity overcoming suspicion, she stepped closer, her paws softly splashing drizzles of streamwater over the lower portions of her legs. Mothkit was now only a mere fox-length’s away from her quarry when the she-cat awoke, a startled look upon her beautiful face. She gave a high howl of pain and terror, shrieking out eons of death and horror. The young kit started, her claws slipping out and the fur along the nape of her neck rising with unease. She stumbled backwards, hurrying to mask the shock that must have been prominent on her kittenish face. A small snail crackled beneath her hind paws, but she paid it no notice. Perhaps it was a late leaf from leaf-fall; she did not pause to examine it. Mothkit peered at the terrified she-cat from where she was situated behind a lofty clump of ferns. The tip of her pale nose just peeked out from behind. From there, she composed herself though it was difficult to steady her racing heart, the fast crescendo of heartbeats that threatened to wrench itself out from her throat. Slowly she withdrew from her safe place, padding hesitantly over the crushed mounds of grass, her paws sliding to match each of her previous pawprints. “Who are you?” she whispered, her bright eyes tinged with concern. She had been introduced to the majority of AspenClan but not this one. Hopefully, this sort of shock wasn’t natural for an AspenClan cat. Even she with her oak-strong nerves couldn’t stand such a thing. The pale creamy amber she-cat’s eyes were dilated with fear. Her breathing was quick and did not appear to be normal. Or maybe hysteria was warping the kit’s mind into believing so. For a lengthy moment, Mothkit stared at the other. She recalled witnessing this white-tinged pelt scuffling about near what she believed to be the Medicine cat’s den. So she must be either the apprentice or the Medicine cat herself. Tilting her head to one side, she mused over this assumption. Had this feline received some sort of vision. Terror clung to her heart. In a voice that shook ever so slightly she asked solemnly, “Was it… a vision?” “Mothkit lies” Mothkit plots revenge… hehe Mothkit does Word Count; 649 Tags; Silversoul OoC; I guess we’ll have to pretend that Silversoul’s reliving the past or something? Whatever you prefer of course!