[PeanutButterRum]

To claim you must be at least level 1 or not have a founder in progress or a founder at all.

Something is following this cat, I wonder what it is? Whatever the creature is it seems to have scarred this cat up quite a bit.
In this comp you must tell me what the thing following the cat is and how it gave him the scars.
You have 500 words each (1000 total) and 3 art pieces to tell me, no extras please
Ends on the 15th of may

Code: Select all

Username:
Cat's Name:
Cat's gender:
Clan Thread:

Prompt:

Username:
Cat Name:
Clan:
Rank:
Gender:
Age:
Description: A cinnamon tabby point with various scars and green eyes
Other Features: None
Siblings: None alive

------------------------------------------ SSS: Foundation
----------------- SS: Foundation
------------------------------------------ SSD: Foundation
Father: Foundation
------------------------------------------ SDS: Foundation
----------------- SD: Foundation
------------------------------------------ SDD: Foundation

------------------------------------------ DSS: Foundation
----------------- DS: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DSD: Foundation
Dam: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DDS: Foundation
----------------- DD: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DDD: Foundation

[Mythz]

Username: Mythz
Cat's Name: Cinnamon- Cinnamonfeather
Cat's gender: Tom
Clan Thread: Wishclan

Prompt:


Cinnamonfeather padded through the forest, hunting for the scent of squirrels. In the warmer weather of Green-Leaf, prey was coming back faster than ever before and Bluestorm had requested they all go hunting.
As he padded deeper into the lush, green undergrowth, Cinnamonfeather paused as his neck prickled and he turned his head to gaze at the bushes behind him. He felt as if someone – or something - was watching him. Nothing moved, and he shrugged away the feeling of uneasiness before turning back to the scent he’d picked up.

He followed the scent to one of the little clearings and paused, watching the reddish pelt of a small squirrel. Once it was within reasonable reach, he leaped forward and pinned it beneath his paws, killing it with a swift blow.
The crack of a branch behind him made him jump, and he turned around in a small circle, slowly surveying the greenery around him. After seeing nothing, he called out.
“Is anyone there?”
Nothing responded, so he picked up his squirrel and hurried back the way he had come, pausing underneath a large oak to grab the prey he had buried earlier. He padded towards the oak and glanced around in confusion. The pile of prey he’d scraped dirt over had been dug up and the prey scattered closely around the roots of the oak.
Cautiously picking up the battered fresh-kill, he looked around once more before hurrying towards camp.

A loud growl sounded from behind him and he whirled around to see the unmistakable black-and-white pelt of a badger. Dropping his prey, he turned and fled in the direction of camp.
The battering of badger paws on the ground got closer the more Cinnamonfeather seemed to run faster. His breathing came in ragged gasps – he was quite far from camp and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get there in time. He glanced over his shoulder and let out a screech of surprise – and pain – as the badger slammed its paw down on his back as his legs buckled beneath him.

Yowling in fear, he struggled in the grip of the giant beast, but to no avail.
The badger’s claws ripped into his back and he let out another wail as he let himself go limp. The creature sniffed him for a moment and he closed his eyes, ready to face the inevitable truth.
Suddenly, a loud caterwaul seemed to echo through the forest and the weight pushing him into the ground lifted as the badger swiped at something out of his view.

Struggling to his paws, head swimming, he tried not to look at the blood that had pooled around where he’d been lying. Glancing around, he spotted Ebonyfang, Alfie, Bluestorm and Wasplight all fighting the badger.

The next few minutes were a blur, he remembered collapsing then opening his eyes to see the others standing around him. Alfie was pressing something against his back and the pain made him close his eyes, whimpering quietly.
Bluestorm turned to Wasplight. “Go get Ripplesky – I fear we may be too late.”


_________________________________________________________
Hawk loped back the way he had come, regretting ever having gone near the retched cats. Blood pounded from several deep wounds peppered along his black-and-white pelt.
At least he’d given one of those cats a scar they would have forever – hopefully. After running for several minutes, he slowed down and lumbered back to his den where his mate slept, bearing their kits.
“’Ello River.” He murmured, crawling into their den.
She looked up, belly large, and gaped at him.
“Hawk! What happened?”
Glancing at his bloodied pelt, he sighed and explained his stupid act before turning around. “I will still go get some food – I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
He felt her concerned gaze burn into his haunch as he lumbered away to lick his wounds before hunting for something more reasonable.
Cursing himself for being stupid and going after the mange-ridden cats, he returned bearing two dead birds and one mouse.

(Credit to Dimi - thank you for editing and helping with grammar <3)

[ThatDragonAdara]

Username: ThatDragonAdara
Cat's Name:
Cat's gender: Male
Clan Thread: [url]Kithclan[/url]

Prompt:
Oh boy, this is going to be awesome.

[paper planets]

Username: chasing_stars
Cat's Name: duskfall
Cat's gender: tom/male
Clan Thread: [url=xx]slateclan[/url]

Prompt:

wow, I actually have an idea. let’s go bois

[ki-neko animura]

Mark

[a ghost!]

:username: dinah.
:cat's name: haresnout
:cat's gender: tom
:clan thread: suntrials

! prompt !
haresnout had always been known as suntrials most keen hunter, having volunteered numerous times for various patrols and parties set out to bring a variety of prey and herbs back to the dried lake they had called home for most, if not their entire lives. he walked along the side of the wheat field that had bordered their territory, crouching close to the foliage as it brushed underneath his stomach. his head snapped to the side at a sudden noise as his ears pricked in curiosity, creeping forward as the leaves cracked under his pads. field mice were known for the borders, favored for the various twoleg crops lining the edge of the field in front of them, often found trying to nip and steal the fallen grain that lay on the ground. he has heard this rustle before on many occasions, facing constant failure to catch the rodent as it ran from the field, crossing the borders, therefore unreachable to the cat. he raised his paw towards the wheat that looked down on him, his claws peering from his paw as they glinted in the brightened sun of morning's light. his paw struck down into the wheat stalks, a piercing shriek following as haresnout recoiled at the unfamiliar sound. at this point in time, one would generally assume that was not the sound of a field mouse, and indeed it was not. he was right. as haresnout craned his neck to look up, farther above the stalks of wheat, a head peered at the cat through the golden strands. it was a twoleg. was it a twoleg all along? had this creature been alongside him, with him near the border since the start of his patrols? he didn't know, though he did not want to know. would you have wished to know, after all these years of childhood, that a man was in the corner of your room? watching you as you slept? I wouldn't think so. it seemed more rational to think he had never been there before. haresnout was not concerned about the man in the bedroom though, but rather the man in front of him. his eyes began to widen, as they customarily do in terror or fear. he began to back away into the golden field. the twoleg, though, did not stand for the slash the cat had scratched into his leg, blood seeping from the cuts. the feet seemed to grow in size as the twoleg began to follow haresnout into the field. although the cat was scared, he seemed to be paralyzed by fear. a feeling of dread glued him to the floor, attempting to peel his fur away. he felt it unwise to flee, even so. he felt it wrong to lead the twoleg to their little hideaway, hidden deep within the meager field of theirs. haresnout seeped his claws into the tilled dirt below him, his ears peeling away from his forehead as he began to sprint farther away.

if you were the twoleg - which you are one, but not this particular one - then I believe you would be a little mad, yes? a strange cat had just clawed your leg, and attempted an escape. any sensible, or bad-tempered twoleg would run after this cat. and so they did. the twoleg's face was twisted in an unseen anger as haresnout began to run in the other direction, from both the little dried out lake and the twoleg barn itself. he did not know where he would run, granted, though he was going to run, as any cat would. he heard the golden stalks of wheat behind him being pushed away, thundering footsteps following close behind him as the glint of a spiked tool glittered into his view. his breathing became heavy, as he heard the tool swipe through the air, glazing over his view. his eyes were squinted, his view blurred by both fear and the sun as it shone high above him. a grunt was sounded behind him, swiping being heard many times as the silver metal was attempting to claw at the cat. both birds and mice either flew or fled from the way of the pair as an ongoing chase began around the field, creating lines in the field as various stalks of wheat was flattened by the heavy boots worn by the twoleg. a cry was heard from within the field as haresnout felt the metal bite at his fur, blood seeping from the fresh wounds as the cat threatened to collapse from both shock and pain, as one would often do in times like this. though haresnout does not often do what is often does, which is often strange to most. I often say often too much and it's often a problem. the twoleg recoiled his rake as it struck at the cat, looking at the crimson liquid as it painted the edges of the blades. it began to retreat as it had soon realized what it had done. twolegs do not intend harm, but often inflict it when enraged or saddened by an act made or conducted by a wildcat within their field, causing them to strike and slash at the cats as they did to them. the nearby patrol had been out at the time, their ears pricking as the sound startled the prey of the tree, birds fluttering and flying from the scene. the patrol would follow the sound, as any sensible patrol would, as it did not sound like anything of any dangerous properties. they had found haresnout there, collapsed on the ground - blood seeping from his back and a nip on his ear - eyes closed in a silent sleep. the patrol had guessed the cat had been overtaken by the fear, or maybe the pain. or rather both. as a cat would often do when attacked by a twoleg of this nature. haresnout had been taken back to the clan, although not leaving without a few trophies of remembrance.


lmao I used all one thousand

[legolas the elf]

Username: Mistyleaf - she
Cat's Name: Runningbreeze (his old name was Runner, so that is what his name is in the passage)
Cat's gender: tom
Clan Thread: GullClan

Prompt:
WHAT IS FOLLOWING HIM:
Runner panted. Hopefully he had lost the creature that had been chasing him. He bent down to the river and took a nice, long, drink. Runner then collapsed, as tired as could be. He heard a twig snap and his head shot up. To amber eyes gleamed from the darkness. Then the largest cat Runner had ever seen stepped out of the underbrush. It was golden-brown, a tawny color, with amber eyes. It's tail ended in a red-brown tuft of fur, and covering it's head was a mane of reddish-brown fur. Runner gasped. It was a lion. But here? Why? Thought Runner. Lions don't live in forests! Then Runner remembered an add in the city for lion that had escaped twolegs. This must be it. The lion lunged at Runner, but he leaped into the stream and the lion's "catch" was fruitless. Runner quickly swam across the river and bolted once he got to the other side. He skidded to a stop for a second and looked back. The lion was swimming. Runner ran for the rest of the day until he could not work his legs anymore. He collapsed. The lion was nowhere to be found, scented, or heard. Runner was safe - for now.

SCARS:
Runner had spent two moons free of the lion, and assumed it was gone. How wrong he had been. Now he was on the run from the lion, yet again, though why it followed him, he didn't know. Suddenly a large paw pinned him down and pain sliced through Runner's back as the lines drew his claws across it. Runner scrambled free, hissing and faced off with the lion. He slashed out a paw and a bloody gash appeared on the lion's nose. "Take that!" Runner hissed. The lion didn't. He lashed out again, nicking Runner's left ear. "C'mon!" growled Runner. "That's gonna leave a permanent mark!" Runner lunged at the lion, back injured, ear nicked, but the lion swatted him aside with a heavy paw. Runner rolled out of the way just as the lion slashed, so he only got nicked in the ear. The same ear that already got nicked, though. "C'mon!" yowled Runner. He lashed his tail, and that was when a fluffy ginger she-cat leaped out of the bushes. "Go!" she shouted! Runner went. He ran for so long, he never saw the lion strike the she-cat down or her mutter her final words, or see her mangled corpse. He never even saw the lion slink after him. It's coming.

(426 words in all)

[.Lyrebird]

Username: .Lyrebird
Cat's Name: Fawnpetal
Cat's gender: She-cat
Clan Thread: Galeclan

Prompt:
- What?: [ 466 words ]

Pale green eyes blinked open in confusion, the cat struggling to understand her surroundings and what she had previously been doing. She was still within GaleClan's territory, that much she was sure of. There was the scratched tree, marking the path to the dirtplace. And just in the distance, she could hear the babbling laughter of the stream as it ran through the camp. It was familiar but... strange, as the colors seemed to bleed around her and the normally silent, watchful pine trees groaned warnings as they towered over her ears. Where they were normally comforting, they now raised the fur along her spine and shoulders. She was... uneasy, to say the least.

Fawnpetal turned her head slowly, listening to the sounds of the forest. Or rather, the lack of. She almost felt as if her ears were full of water or cobwebs, and she hated it. Her paws began to pace of their own accord, tail lashing, until finally one sound cut through the silence like a claw. There, just behind her, the snapping of a twig gave away the presence of... something. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, if she were honest. But as she watched, a shadowy figure - almost catlike, but massive and whirling with tendrils of darkness - stepped out of its hiding place and snarled at her and the sound wasn't unlike the scraping of claws against stone.

Deciding she didn't really have the time to be scared, even though her heart beat against her chest like a trapped bird, the she-cat turned tail and fled towards the lake. She had to get this creature away from the camp, away from her family. Sure, she was a stranger to them and while she was almost positive none of them really cared for her, she couldn't just leave them to whatever cruel fate the beast would bring them. A quick, panicked glance over her shoulder that almost put her directly into a tree confirmed that the creature was, in fact, following. A tiny bit of relief found her then, she had at least saved the clan.

Still she ran, until her legs began to shake and her chest ached for air. Still, the beast gained on her steadily, always growing just a bit closer. Or... was it becoming larger? She couldn't be sure. Again, she glanced behind her only for her paw to catch on a root and send her tumbling tail over head... right into the creature's claws. Somehow, during her fall, it had leapt over her into her path and now its talons caught in her pelt and she opened her maw to yowl for help. Her ragged breathing and already sore throat made her cries hoarse and impossible to hear, but her pain helped to louden her voice.

- How?:

[alokesti]

username: alokesti | name: minnowleap | gender: tom [male] | clan:

prompt:

wip - hawk is following him

[CertainNorth]

Username: Tendency
Cat's Name: Fogridge
Cat's gender: Female
Cat's rank: Warrior
Clan Thread: Dustclan

The Follower
Fog comes from a twolegplace. Her parents were once kittypets from different homes and . But Fog was determined to stay wild. And her desperation to do so, led to a lot of strife and struggle, even among her own family. And now, she said that same something that caused it all still followed her.

If you ask another cat who was there, such as Windrunner (known as Windy then), you might get a long winded answer that dates back too many years and has too many names. He would start with how Fog is a very loving cat full of heart who didn't have an evil bone in her body. Most of that is true. At least since Windrunner knew her. And let's not forget he saved her life and nursed her back to health, so he's a bit attached and biased. It's not that he's lying on purpose...he just likes to not think about what really happened. Fog watched her sister die and then killed her brother. To be fair, it was as justified as murder can be, but it's still murder. They were born strays that were quickly consumed by the local rogue monarchy in the twolegplace. Her two brothers were quickly enamored of the rogues' leader and fell into line as good soldier. Fog and her sister were not so sure. Neither liked city life. But neither wanted to be kittypets. They weren't sure of their options, but when one of her brothers, tried to force her sister to stay, killing her in the process, Fog struck back and ran. She met Windy in another part of the city and they took shelter, hoping her other brother, Gloom, wouldn't follow her. But of course, he did.

If you asked her, she would say she is followed by a monster. She calls it guilt, remorse, tragedy. You might ask how those things, those ideas that don't have claws or fangs, might leave her with scars. And she would probably laugh.

The Scars
Fog doesn't like talking about herself. She'd not unfriendly, but she and Wraith have that issue in common. It's hard to welcome others when you struggle to trust your own demons. But Fog differs in that while she is a naturally proud creature she wants a family more than anything. So when Windrunner sought her out and took her to Driftbreeze, she told him and only him the story of her previous family and how it ended. If you asked how the leader of Dustclan managed to get an answer, the silky tom would tell you he asked.

Fog cowered with Windy for a time, getting back her strength and her focus. She was lost without her siblings, especially her sister. They had been a team once. But now...Fog was prey and Gloom was a wild dog. Considering one of them might have to end their last remaining family member was...sickening. But she would never ask another to fight her battles. She would meet her brother alone and try to reason with him. There was a park nearby that very few cats ever used. She waited there. Unfortunately, the park wasn't empty of cats but rather this was where one cat lived. This cat was known as a killer and she had strayed into his territory unknowingly, because by reputation alone, his borders usually went untraveled.

Luckily, Gloom found her first. Reason failed quickly. He had been granted a boon if he killed her, and his rogue "family" had grieved with him over the loss of his old family already. Gloom was inheriting the family by removing her, or something insane. The fight went poorly at first. Her brother pinned her to the ground, delivering a vicious raking to her back and shoulders but before he could sink his teeth in, Fog kicked him off. Only to be pinned shortly after. Fog was fiery, but no fighter compared to Gloom.

And then the owner of the park returned. A large dark tom sent them both tumbling over, hissing and spitting. He pinned down Gloom. Fog could have let him die like that. She probably should have. But she couldn't let this strange cat fight her battle. The stranger stopped his assault at her odd request, but said nothing while Gloom fled limping and bleeding. Fog was no better than him, but she was still alive. And still haunted by her dead family.

But now, Dustclan was her family. And she would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.