Post by Amber on Oct 28, 2009 18:35:31 GMT -5
A blur of white, tan and black hared across the rocky terrain, tail high and lashing back in forth in a playful yet nonhostile position. The four-month old kitten was moving as quietly and quickly as he possibly could, which, that said, wasn't all that silent at all, but was fairly fast for a kit of his age. Ivaylo's ears twitched and he let a grin play across his muzzle.
He slid to a stop, still quivering with excitement. As his little head whipped back and forth to examine his new surroundings, he parted his jaws and let out a loud call. "Blackstar?" he cried, "Where are you?" Deprived of all feline interaction for the past month, he had decided to track the fading scent of the last cat he had spoken to.
Blackstar, he had called himself, and he had claimed to be the leader of a 'Boulder Clan'. Ivay, in his boredom (and, admittedly, starvation), had decided spontaneously to find the tom-cat again. Gradually, the eagerness in his chest started to disintegrate, leaving fear in its wake. The kit had run off before Blackstar could explain what this 'Clan' of his was - what if they were a gang of savages? What if they were going to eat him?
Ivaylo squeaked at the prospect. He whirled around to flee for his life, however short it would be now that his only source of food was crow-food or scraps left by rogues. The tom-kitten was met with a new obstacle: another cat!
He slid to a stop, still quivering with excitement. As his little head whipped back and forth to examine his new surroundings, he parted his jaws and let out a loud call. "Blackstar?" he cried, "Where are you?" Deprived of all feline interaction for the past month, he had decided to track the fading scent of the last cat he had spoken to.
Blackstar, he had called himself, and he had claimed to be the leader of a 'Boulder Clan'. Ivay, in his boredom (and, admittedly, starvation), had decided spontaneously to find the tom-cat again. Gradually, the eagerness in his chest started to disintegrate, leaving fear in its wake. The kit had run off before Blackstar could explain what this 'Clan' of his was - what if they were a gang of savages? What if they were going to eat him?
Ivaylo squeaked at the prospect. He whirled around to flee for his life, however short it would be now that his only source of food was crow-food or scraps left by rogues. The tom-kitten was met with a new obstacle: another cat!
