Post by Glyph on Oct 9, 2009 20:40:50 GMT -8
OOC: Been away for a while, so I'm not quite sure where this plot sits within the bigger story at the moment, or if the Clan(s) are aware of it yet. If they aren't, I guess the thread can just be closed and moved to a more appropriate board...
IC: Sticky... That was the word he'd been looking for.
Jet felt sticky.
Everything about this territory seemed foreign to him, strange and brittle. The scents and sights were unfamiliar and puzzling; they seemed to cling to him, to wind invisible claws into his dark fur and stick like thousands of burs he'd been burdened to carry everywhere he went.
It had been moons since the young tom had arrived in FireClan, yet he could still remembered and repined clearly the cool, soft grasses of the High Hills, the crispness the air seemed to hold as it ruffled his kit-soft fur, the sweet, rippling streams that had soothed his ears... Sometimes, late at night, Jet would even catch snatches of his lost siblings' scents, feel the warmth of his parents' fur on his cheek...
And then he would blink, or sneeze, or Mint would snuffle in her sleep, and they would disappear, leaving only transparent threads of memories that quickly found ways to wind themselves around his heart until it felt as though it were being tugged from his chest in the direction of the High Hills... Home.
But no matter how hard his heart pulled, he was undeniably stuck, rooted to the spot where that monster had dropped him moons prior.
The tom's young face hardened into carefully schooled blankness as he stared off into the dawning sky, but his heart throbbed and his claws dug into the ground that had long-since become his nest.
Jet wouldn't be stuck forever.
IC: Sticky... That was the word he'd been looking for.
Jet felt sticky.
Everything about this territory seemed foreign to him, strange and brittle. The scents and sights were unfamiliar and puzzling; they seemed to cling to him, to wind invisible claws into his dark fur and stick like thousands of burs he'd been burdened to carry everywhere he went.
It had been moons since the young tom had arrived in FireClan, yet he could still remembered and repined clearly the cool, soft grasses of the High Hills, the crispness the air seemed to hold as it ruffled his kit-soft fur, the sweet, rippling streams that had soothed his ears... Sometimes, late at night, Jet would even catch snatches of his lost siblings' scents, feel the warmth of his parents' fur on his cheek...
And then he would blink, or sneeze, or Mint would snuffle in her sleep, and they would disappear, leaving only transparent threads of memories that quickly found ways to wind themselves around his heart until it felt as though it were being tugged from his chest in the direction of the High Hills... Home.
But no matter how hard his heart pulled, he was undeniably stuck, rooted to the spot where that monster had dropped him moons prior.
The tom's young face hardened into carefully schooled blankness as he stared off into the dawning sky, but his heart throbbed and his claws dug into the ground that had long-since become his nest.
Jet wouldn't be stuck forever.
