Post by Virtuoso on Nov 8, 2014 19:08:18 GMT -5
Adventure is a nine-letter synonym for life. They are of the same principles: change, new things, a journey to last eons, and the discovery of oneself with the discovery of the world around them. The tallest mountain to the deepest trench and everything in between held trillions of discoveries to be made. Nothing was restricted. Even the youngest kit could see everything its elders never experienced if they would only be allowed to.
Duskjump was not a kit anymore; the laws of SkyClan did not restrict his movements in and out of the clan and around the territory. He saw new things every day, but even the fascinating world of SkyClan began to lose its luster. The incoming winter dulled the vibrant colors to dark browns and fading oranges. There were no flowers anymore and the trees had shed much of their autumnal colors already. Snow would be here soon, bringing leafbare with it. Duskjump realized he had to hurry, see as much as he could before winter imprisoned him until newleaf.
Shaking his head, the golden tabby bounded away from the camp, kicking up dirt and leaves with the speed he tore out with. Cats who meowed at him in question blurred past and he was deaf to their queries; adventure beckoned to him and he would find it. The dash took him halfway out not the heart of SlyClan territory and he skidded to a halt, his fine coat becoming peppered with the spray of dirt that rose up with it. Looking around, excitement pounding in his ears, he sought something new.
Finding nothing on the ground, he turned his gaze skyward and--oh, what a sight! Countless trees rising in a ring all around him, towers built for centuries as sentries for the world, enclosed him within their dying embraces. It filled him with a sense of comfort and sadness. Oh, the trees were dying for the year. Their boughs would not be filled for several moons. The cold wind would whistle through them until newleaf, the voice of the snow-cloaked reaper claiming the spirits of the woods' noblest, oldest soldiers. What were the warriors but mere peasants in their shadows? They muddle away their lives unconscious of the real kings of the territory. To Duskjump, the clan cats were simply lost tenants in the woods' embrace, and the kindly trees offered up their protection, their shelter, their creatures to sustain the animals that took so thoughtlessly from them. Trees seemed dead every day of the year, unmoving and silent, but Duskjump knew better. The trees were very much alive, the biggest clue being the fact they perish just like many things do in the cold season. Things live and then die. Trees live and trees die.
Made cold by his musings, Duskjump approached one of these sentries, the tallest and oldest of them all. He strained his neck to look up at it, eyes filled with the reverence and admiration of a kit looking upon their war-veteran father. The sky lay above it and Duskjump felt compelled to ask the trees of one last request before they passed on for the year. Gently hooking his frontal claws into the bark of the tree, Duskjump began to ascend. His movements, slow and measured, gradually brought him through the outreaching boughs and final, brave leaves that circled the tree trunk. His movements did little to disturb either; as he passed on, the branches would quiver as if rocked by the wind, the leaves bouncing slightly, but nothing fell. Nothing creaked or cracked or broke apart; it was as if the tree were allowing him to complete his task.
The tallest tree in the SkyClan territory beckoned the golden warrior towards the frozen sky above him, giving his paws hold on the bark and places to set himself. When he finally reached the very top of the tree, a rush of wind blew past. Duskjump shuddered at the cold bite of the breeze and he dug his claws into the thin, fragile wood apologetically.
"Forgive me," he murmured, pinning his ears and ducking his head to stay on. "I must use you as a perch."
He looked up, eyes wide and receiving to the wild blue sky that sprawled out above him. Light narrowed his pupils to slits but he stared in fascination. The air was so thin but the altitude gave him a dizzy sense of excitement, of pride. This was the domain of his clan! The heavens above, not the cold, dreary earth below!
A laugh of exhilaration ascended from him. He stood carefully, eyes turned upward. The black sky before him lay spattered with the suns of distant places, the galaxies of the universe, all held within the eyes of those before all who lived on Earth! Did he even have ancestors that strode the grasslands of StarClan? Would he be allowed to walk among them when he too died like the brittle tree that allowed him to see into the eyes of the ancestors he was not descended from? He had to!
"SkyClan has treated me well!" The tomcat's dizzy shouts echoed through the brittle air, traveling in every direction. "SkyClan is my home! I am the descendant of a world of chaos! I was not born with you in my heart! Since returning to the clans, I have doubted your existence...but here, here where we stand nearly face to face...how can I doubt any longer? I see you! The stars align themselves the way a constellation moves! I see the seven clans that hold or ever held belief in you--I see them here! SkyClan is my home, I am but a simple warrior...but here, here I stand and promise to uphold your legends! And even if you refuse to grant me access into your world when I have departed from this, even in death wherever I may be I will spread the truths of StarClan."
"My name is Duskjump, a son of MoonClan but a soldier of SkyClan! I'll not disappoint you!"
Duskjump was not a kit anymore; the laws of SkyClan did not restrict his movements in and out of the clan and around the territory. He saw new things every day, but even the fascinating world of SkyClan began to lose its luster. The incoming winter dulled the vibrant colors to dark browns and fading oranges. There were no flowers anymore and the trees had shed much of their autumnal colors already. Snow would be here soon, bringing leafbare with it. Duskjump realized he had to hurry, see as much as he could before winter imprisoned him until newleaf.
Shaking his head, the golden tabby bounded away from the camp, kicking up dirt and leaves with the speed he tore out with. Cats who meowed at him in question blurred past and he was deaf to their queries; adventure beckoned to him and he would find it. The dash took him halfway out not the heart of SlyClan territory and he skidded to a halt, his fine coat becoming peppered with the spray of dirt that rose up with it. Looking around, excitement pounding in his ears, he sought something new.
Finding nothing on the ground, he turned his gaze skyward and--oh, what a sight! Countless trees rising in a ring all around him, towers built for centuries as sentries for the world, enclosed him within their dying embraces. It filled him with a sense of comfort and sadness. Oh, the trees were dying for the year. Their boughs would not be filled for several moons. The cold wind would whistle through them until newleaf, the voice of the snow-cloaked reaper claiming the spirits of the woods' noblest, oldest soldiers. What were the warriors but mere peasants in their shadows? They muddle away their lives unconscious of the real kings of the territory. To Duskjump, the clan cats were simply lost tenants in the woods' embrace, and the kindly trees offered up their protection, their shelter, their creatures to sustain the animals that took so thoughtlessly from them. Trees seemed dead every day of the year, unmoving and silent, but Duskjump knew better. The trees were very much alive, the biggest clue being the fact they perish just like many things do in the cold season. Things live and then die. Trees live and trees die.
Made cold by his musings, Duskjump approached one of these sentries, the tallest and oldest of them all. He strained his neck to look up at it, eyes filled with the reverence and admiration of a kit looking upon their war-veteran father. The sky lay above it and Duskjump felt compelled to ask the trees of one last request before they passed on for the year. Gently hooking his frontal claws into the bark of the tree, Duskjump began to ascend. His movements, slow and measured, gradually brought him through the outreaching boughs and final, brave leaves that circled the tree trunk. His movements did little to disturb either; as he passed on, the branches would quiver as if rocked by the wind, the leaves bouncing slightly, but nothing fell. Nothing creaked or cracked or broke apart; it was as if the tree were allowing him to complete his task.
The tallest tree in the SkyClan territory beckoned the golden warrior towards the frozen sky above him, giving his paws hold on the bark and places to set himself. When he finally reached the very top of the tree, a rush of wind blew past. Duskjump shuddered at the cold bite of the breeze and he dug his claws into the thin, fragile wood apologetically.
"Forgive me," he murmured, pinning his ears and ducking his head to stay on. "I must use you as a perch."
He looked up, eyes wide and receiving to the wild blue sky that sprawled out above him. Light narrowed his pupils to slits but he stared in fascination. The air was so thin but the altitude gave him a dizzy sense of excitement, of pride. This was the domain of his clan! The heavens above, not the cold, dreary earth below!
A laugh of exhilaration ascended from him. He stood carefully, eyes turned upward. The black sky before him lay spattered with the suns of distant places, the galaxies of the universe, all held within the eyes of those before all who lived on Earth! Did he even have ancestors that strode the grasslands of StarClan? Would he be allowed to walk among them when he too died like the brittle tree that allowed him to see into the eyes of the ancestors he was not descended from? He had to!
"SkyClan has treated me well!" The tomcat's dizzy shouts echoed through the brittle air, traveling in every direction. "SkyClan is my home! I am the descendant of a world of chaos! I was not born with you in my heart! Since returning to the clans, I have doubted your existence...but here, here where we stand nearly face to face...how can I doubt any longer? I see you! The stars align themselves the way a constellation moves! I see the seven clans that hold or ever held belief in you--I see them here! SkyClan is my home, I am but a simple warrior...but here, here I stand and promise to uphold your legends! And even if you refuse to grant me access into your world when I have departed from this, even in death wherever I may be I will spread the truths of StarClan."
"My name is Duskjump, a son of MoonClan but a soldier of SkyClan! I'll not disappoint you!"