Scars || Salem & Veck

[storm]

A sleek black tom slunk through the shadows of the forest. It was nearing dark, so the darkness was beginning to grow so thick that one would only be able to see the apprentice's icy green eyes. They were distant, telling that the panther of a cat was deep in thought, or rather memories.

A long-furred she-cat with warm golden eyes flashed through his mind, making Coalpaw halt in his tracks. He remembered his sweet mother so vividly that it hurt just to think her name. Her and another cat, one so shockingly dear to him the tom couldn't even bare to think his name danced through his mind restlessly. This had been happening all day, and he was tired of the pain aching in his chest.

Heavyfeather...Rook....Rookfang....if I'd never been born, they'd of never died the way they did.

Dipping his head from the weight the mere names pushed onto him, Coalpaw sighed softly and glared up at the star-littered sky. It was StarClan who had given him such a cruel fate. They had known all along how things would end up for the young tom, him scarred as a reminder of his failure to save his mentor. They reminded Coalpaw that he could never afford be weak again. If his younger brother, Magpiekit or only friend, Leopardpaw died, he would surely die along with them. Any playfulness from his cruel words would wither and he would be nothing but ice, solid instead of only thickly layered.


As if StarClan is afraid to take them from me. They've already watched, mockingly silent as my father and older brothers try to poison my younger brother's mind with lies that he's worthless. No cat but me can protect those two that are dearest to me and I'll be damned if I let them leave me like I did my mother and Rookfang.

Slipping through a few bushes, Coalpaw arrived at Talltrees. Loners and rogues frequented the place quite often, but that didn't matter. Having been trained in the ways of a warrior for longer than most apprentices, he was confident he could take care of himself in any petty fight. If not, Coalpaw was tree-savvy and could flee in the high comforts of the trees if need be. He didn't skip training without climbing a tree or two to be sure his mentor would have a hard time finding him.

The thought of mangy loners, probably not much different from the ones who killed Rookfang and almost succeeded in killing him, made Coalpaw look around with narrowed eyes. If he were jumped, there would be no running this time. The black tom had the cover of night to aid him as well as skill.

Any fleabag who is stupid enough to mess with me while I have such an advantage in my territory is a fool.

Clawing his way up the tall pine before him, Coalpaw lay draped over a sturdy branch, cool mint green eyes half lidded.

four hundred ninety four
muse tired xD
table credit to flight
all images belong to their respective owners

[FAGGOT]

The wind blew carelessly and harsh as a black cat made his way through the dark hellhole. Salem didn't know if it was bad weather or just a omen. Maybe both? He wasn't sure, but its not like he was bothered....that much anyway.

The black tom came to a stop, gazing around with both distant green eyes. Salem was told to take someone else with him or he'd be brutally slaughtered. And the cat said that would have been lucky. He only wondered what made them so vicious in the orbs of others. Salem had heard stories that ghost protected them. Their ancestors or friends that bit the dust. But in all truth that's just idiotic. But then again what Salem was doing wasn't the decision of a fucking genius.

Though it didn't matter to the ebony cat. He was a thrill seeker but the pitch black night and unrelenting breeze was transforming this activity into a horror story. The rattling of the trees and the crackling of leaves from every paw step he took gave the woods a terrifying atmosphere. But he didn't show fear, if anything the leaves were starting to piss him off.

Soon enough Salem's legs began quivering and were about to give out. Blurry vision and coughing followed and suit and Salem quickly stumbled towards a tree. Oh shit! Not now, this is the worst possible fucking moment! He staggered over and slumped himself against a tree stump as his nose slowly began pouring crimson liquid. Hurriedly he wiped his snout clean and looked around before him. His vision still distraught he could hardly make anything out around him, but at least he couldn't see any silhouettes.

Exhaling a heavy sigh his body grew heavy as he resisted his current condition. This happened once or twice every couple of days. It was a problem he had bee cursed with since he was a kit. Sometimes he neglected to remember it only because he hated it with a passion. But Salem was an idiot, he never thought of this happening out here. He really did a need a partner for this very reason.

Salem anxiously waited for his strength and motor skills to return, until then he would remain where he was a hope no one found him. But he didn't usually have the best of luck now did he?