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by kaminari.denki » Fri Oct 05, 2018 2:28 am
________________♪
Take a listen while you read♪
_____________Life started out quite normally in the little kitten's life, named Raven after the birds that frequented the pumpkin patch, at least until his third moon struck. It is then that the whispers started, hunters returning with bushed fur and less prey than usual but at the time Raven paid it no mind, simply cuddling into the emptied pumpkin den and listening to his mother’s heartbeat. He was safe and at peace, but he'd soon learn there was a difference between a stable home and a safe one.
Of course, he'd seen the worried whispers and wary, bristling fur around the patch over the past moon, but his mother had told him not to worry. "The older cats are just getting dirt under their claws about an old myth," she'd said, flicking her long tail dismissively. "Don't worry about it, little bird. Go and play."
Being the obedient kit that he was, he'd done as he was told and carried on with life as normal: tussling with the other kits around camp and harassing a few of the older cats, much to their annoyance. Normally he'd think nothing of the soft growls and hissed words, but some of those stuck with him, so much so that when he curled up with his mother that night, he couldn't sleep.
"Mama.. is there something wrong with me?"
"No, my sweet prince.. why would you think that?" Ember replied softly, eyes glowing in the relative darkness of the pumpkin as her tail curled around her son.
"Some of the others.. they say that I'm wrong. That I'm the reason the spirits have come back," he whimpered, ears flattening as he looked down at his paws. "Is it true..? I-Is that why Papa left?"
His mother inhaled sharply at the mention of the young tom's father, memories of him spitting at their only child in disgust before stomping away into the forest that surrounded the farmland flashed through her head before she answered. "Your father left because he was weak and incapable of loving a child with something he thought was a flaw," she said, her voice taking on a low growl as her claws slid out and pierced the pumpkin flesh. "You are not wrong or cursed, my precious son. You are special.. you understand? Special."
"Yes, Mama."
---
The next moon passed quietly for the young cat, elders no longer whispering with suspicious glares as he went past and other kits now playing with him, as if their fear of a cursed cat and evil spirits in the woods had left them. Raven assumed his mother had something to do with it but didn't bother to ask, he was happy to have a perfectly normal life again - for the most part, never noticing the skeptical looks some cats still gave him behind his back.
The return of smaller prey catches, ruffled fur, and haunted over-the-shoulder glances wasn't immediate but they did indeed return. The previous moon had been prey filled and the sudden drop terrified the cats of the farm, asking the hunters why there was suddenly no food, especially with the first chills of Frosted Ground arriving. They spoke of feeling as though someone was watching them as they hunted, of seeing shadows of running cats in the trees, of finding long dead prey in popular hunting spots - the scent of rot making any living prey wary of nesting in the area.
Terrified yowls followed their words and the leader tried to keep them calm, but it was no use. The mind of every cat over 10 moons was now filled with the old stories of the evil spirit cats that the elders claimed haunted the woods and killed or stole prey, followed cats in the darkness and sometimes took lives. The cats of the pumpkin patch felt as if they had no other choice but to band together tighter than before, never leaving the clearing by themselves and supervising the playtime of the kits like a circling hawk.
There was no way of knowing that all their efforts were useless.
---
The attack came with little warning, simply a creak of branch overhead, three nights after the first signs of dead prey returned. Cats covered in mud came streaming from the treetops, sharp claws reaching for anything they could hook into and excitement glinting in their eyes. The few survivors of this night(the ones who chose to run instead of defending their home) claimed that they'd heard soft whispers and the reflection of a cat's eyes just a few precious seconds beforehand, but none of that mattered now.
The first slice of claw meeting flesh spurred on the cries of alarm as the pumpkin patch cats were knocked out of their sleep and into battle, clumsy movements leading to bodies falling faster than anyone had ever seen. It was now painfully clear to everyone there that these mud-covered cats were not spirits, they were very much alive and ready to kill.
No one knew their goal, only that they were strong and fast, some dragging elders and young cats into woods while others preferred to hold their victims down as they ripped fur from their bodies. Raven's mother tried valiantly to save her kit, shoving him further into the hollowed out gourd and bushing her tail to hide him from sight as she lashed out at anyone who came too close. She managed to take down one or two of their rivals, but ultimately fell to the ground herself when three cats ganged up on her, eyes now staring sightlessly across the farm and her jaws parted in a silent scream.
Hidden in the shadows as he was and having heard nothing but the rustling of the trees in the wind for a few moments, Raven thought he was safe to let out a fearful cry of mourning for his mother, slapping his own tail over his mouth when the sound of pawsteps restarted and came closer. Claws pierced the top of the pumpkin and split it in half to reveal the cowering kitten to a giant orange tom's eyes, a menacing grin spreading over the rival leader's face as he grabbed the patched kitten by his scruff and dropped him in the middle of camp, now eerily silent with bodies scattered around the land.
"Look what I found hiding in one of those ridiculous pumpkins," Tarot chuckled, his voice drawing the attention of his fellow cats, who quickly joined him as he circled around Raven. "What should we do with her?"
Quiet chants of 'kill, kill, kill!' sounded from the gathered cats before a different voice rose above the rest: "Or.. perhaps we can raise her!"
"Raise..? Who said that! Show yourself now!" Tarot seethed, eyes narrowed as he whirled around. The gathered cats parted easily to reveal a young, long-haired she-cat to the enraged tom.
"Do calm down, Tarot.." she purred, whisking her tail under the larger cat's chin before standing between the tom and the kit. "I'd hate for all that anger to kill you so early in your rein."
The orange tom growled lowly before sitting and wrapping his tail around his paws as he stared at the newcomer. "Explain yourself, Gypsy. Why should we bring this little female back to our camp and.. raise it?"
"Why not? We have no kits in the group.. or rather, none that have survived past their 3rd moon," Gypsy snorted, glancing at the rest of the gathered cats, stained paws shuffling a little in the dirt. "Why waste an opportunity to increase our numbers with these two strong little kits?"
"Alright.. I see your poin- wait.Two?" he asked, glancing over the she-cat's shoulder to stare at Raven, who was still cowering but had crept closer to Gypsy's fluffy tail. "I only see one.. what are you talking about?"
"Oh, right.. Howl, bring him forward." At her words, a dark brown tabby stepped forward, holding a tiny grey kitten in his jaws. He moved fast enough to close the distance in a few strides, but slow enough to refrain from knocking the kit around too much. "I found him trying to squeeze into a hole between some tree roots."
Tarot leaned down to inspect the trembling tom, narrowing his eyes before hissing lowly. "It's a runt.. you can't possibly expect us to raise that," he scoffed. "It'll barely survive the trip back! "
"Do you propose another option? You killed everyone else!"
"Fine.. but I don't like it."
---
The journey back to the the 'spirit-cats' camp was a long and hard one, those carrying the kits sparing no extra thought as they ran through the woods, ignoring the tiny squeaks of pain as branches snagged on fur and leaves whipped against small faces. Raven, being considerably bigger than the other kit, was fairing better than the other tom, curling his body into a ball to decrease the damagable area.
After what seemed like an age of running, crossing through streams and leaping over bushes, the whole group came to a stop and the kits were dropped next to each other before being left alone as the rogues spread out amongst themselves. It was then that Raven dared to lift his head and creep closer to the long-haired kit who'd been brought with him.
"W-what's your name? I'm Raven.." he whispered softly, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention if he didn't want to. At first he was afraid that his companion was dead, blood soaking into the tom's long grey fur from small cuts that covered his body, but then he moved, lifting his head enough to look at the patched kitten.
"Mouse.." he breathed, just as softly. "My mama named me 'Mouse'.."
"Good to meet you, Mouse.. we have to work together, okay? Well get out of here together.."
"Alright.. I trust you, Raven," the runt nodded, lifting his head and smiling softly. Raven could tell that this would be the beginning of a wonderful friendship.
---
Over the next few moons, the two kits were ignored by most of the group- only interacting with the cats that had carried them to the camp, Gypsy and Howl, who brought them food every once in a while before moving away again. They grew steadily and it was only when they reached their 12th moon, Mouse still considerably smaller than Raven, that they saw Tarot's face again.
Both kits were nudged to the center of camp as the rest of the group gathered around them in a circle, only splitting when the huge tabby stepped forward, eyes shining slightly as he looked over both males silently before turning to face his cats. "Now.. I know some of you called these little kits burdens or nuisances, but today they can begin training and start on their path to become true members of Les Morts!"
A few rather unenthusiastic cheers broke out from the gathered cats, others simply lashing their tails and shifting their paws as they waited for Tarot to continue, which he preceded to do as the forest camp quieted once more. "Gypsy.. as you were the one who suggested bringing the girl and his friend-"
"I'm not a girl, y'know!"
"Raven, shut up!"
"No! We've been living here for ages! They should know by now that I'm a b-" A loud growl kept the young tortoiseshell from finishing his sentence, cowering back as he looked up to see Tarot towering over him with bared teeth.
"Did I tell you to speak, kit? A male with your looks isn't possible.. now, shut up and listen. I'm not against changing my mind about keeping you alive," he huffed, cuffing the smaller cat over the head and knocking him over before turning back around.
Raven shook his head and pushing himself back up, glaring at Tarot's back and opening his mouth to insist once more that he was male, but Mouse slapped his paw over the black tom's face and shook his head, silently begging his friend not to get them in anymore trouble.
After a minute or two of silence, Tarot whisked his tail and raised his chin before continuing his previous sentence. "Gypsy.. since it was your idea to bring along the two kits instead of leaving them to rot, it will be your job to train them into strong warriors. Got that?"
The long haired she-cat dipped her head once before turning to stare at her new charges, Raven still trying to shove his smaller friend away from him.
"Good.. the rest of you, go hunt!"
The group dispersed almost instantly and Tarot leaped up a tree trunk and seemingly vanished as Gypsy slid over to the kits. "So.. I guess I'm stuck with you two forever.. might as well get this over with then," she sighed. "Let the training begin.."
--
"Oof! Jeez, why are your claws out!" Mouse hissed, shoving Raven to the side before rolling over and shaking the leaves out of his fur. Both toms had grown consideribly larger over the past six moons - both in muscle and size, thanks to Gypsy's constant training, though Mouse was still smaller than most of the other cats.
"Why wouldn't his claws be out, kit? Do you think an enemy is going to keep his claws in?" Gypsy scoffed from the sidelines, long tail swaying slowly behind her. For a brief moment, Raven couldn't help but think how pretty the she-cat looked in the low light, eyes glowing ever so slightly. He'd developed a fondness for the she-cat over the past few moons, though thought of it as nothing more than a friendship. "You'll get torn to shreds if you think that."
"No, I-"
"How are our new recruits doing? Making progress?" Tarot's voice seemed to pop out of the nothingness and Gypsy quickly scrambled to her paws as the large tabby made his way out of a nearby tree, the mud smeared all over his fur and his large paws having hidden his scent and approach.
"Yes, Tarot.. these two are doing quite well in there training," Gypsy replied with a single head nod, head bowing slightly as the male turned to look at her briefly before turning to the toms. "I'd say another moon or two before they're ready to join us on expeditions."
"Well then.. I guess I should see their progress for myself, hmm?" he commented, settling down on the roots of the tree he'd emerged from. "Whisper, Hollow.. don't mind me, continue your battle."
The two toms stood frozen with wide eyes focused on Tarot's paws, having learned to not look directly at the group's leader, unsure who he was talking to as they'd never heard those names before. After a long and tense moment, Mouse stepped forward and spoke in a soft voice: "A-Are you talking to us?"
"Who else would I be speaking to? Do you have rat droppings
between your ears instead of brains? Fight!" Tarot snapped, narrowing his eyes and making both toms jump as they scrambled into position.
For Raven, all noise outside of the Mouse's breath seemed to disappear as he crouched and slid his claws out, pupils narrowing as he focused on his friend. For Mouse, it felt as if he couldn't hear anything but his own racing heartbeat, blood rushing in his ears as he quickly copied the tortoiseshell's stance.
Mouse only had a few seconds to defend himself as Raven's muscles tensed and he launched himself across the field, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he knocked the long haired gray cat over, claws pricking the other male's skin as they rolled, hissing and spitting the entire time. Now as Raven was physically bigger than his opponent, the battle didn't last all that long, ending with the patched teen pressing his friend against the ground and holing him there.
"Well done, Hollow," Tarot purred as the two fighters caught their breath, Raven still pinning Mouse against ground even as they both looked over at the leader. "Excellent take sown. Whisper, you'll need some more work.. perhaps some one-on-one time with Gypsy."
A strange feeling formed in Raven's chest at those words and he lashed his tail, intent on asking if that was absolutely necessary,
though those were not the words that left his mouth. "Who are Whisper and Hollow? We're Mouse and Raven, Tarot.."
Gypsy let out a low, disapproving hiss at the comment but stayed silent, especially as Tarot turned on his heel silently and stalked closer to the young toms. "Mouse and Raven are not names that strike fear into the hearts of our enemies, therefore I gave you new names. You are now and forever known as Whisper and Raven. Is that understood?"
The toms glanced at each other briefly before dipping their heads obediently: "Yes, Tarot.."
--
"It's been quite a few moons since these two kits have joined our group, and now they've grown and have become valuable fighters! Tonight is their final test!"
Hollow trembled slightly as he stood in the shadows, drying mud covering the orange patches of his fur as his claws dug into the ground. He didn't want to fight his friend, not this time. Every other fight had been a fast and fun bat-around with only Gypsy watching. Now all of Les Morts was here and eager to see blood drawn in this, the final battle.
Fur brushed against his and pulled him from his thoughts, yellow eyes darting up to see Gypsy standing in front of him, a slight grin on his face. "Don't over think this, Hollow.. you've trained hard these past few moons. You can win.. and have me all to yourself.." she purred.
Hollow startled at the purred words, eyes widening as he stepped back slightly. "W-what?"
"What? Did you really think I missed all those little glances you've given me over the past few moons?" Gypsy chuckled, closing the distance between them again, making them almost nose to nose. "Whisper's done it too."
That feeling that had flared in his chest once before a few moons ago came back with a vengeance and he glanced over the she-cat's shoulder to where his best friend was standing on the other side of the clearing, Howl standing nearby as Gypsy was for him.
He started to answer before he heard Tarot calling his name, quickly bounding past the other and into the clearing, still feeling hot under his fur as his eyes landed on Whisper, the yowls of the gathered cats falling on mostly deaf ears. Whisper stepped forward a few moments later with a nervous smile, looking at the crowd and rolling his shoulders before turning to face Hollow. "May the best tom win?" he said softly.
"Sure.." Hollow growled, crouching down as he waited for Tarot's word for the battle to begin. Whisper gave him and odd look before shaking his head and copying his crouch slowly.
"Two cats will enter, one will win. Ready? Fight!"
Hollow launched himself forward instantly, a loud hiss ripping itself from his throat as he hooked his claws into Whisper's shoulders and bowled him over, much to the gray toms surprise, who yowled and defended himself as best as he could but the tortoiseshell was furious for reasons unknown to both toms, large tufts of gray fur being flung across the clearing.
Behind him, Gypsy and Tarot wore matching grins as they eagerly watched the vicious nature of the larger tom who barely had a single scratch on him. "You've trained him well, Gypsy.. he'll be a valuable asset to us in the future.."
"Of course he will be, Tarot.. I learned from the best and so did he," she commented, lifting her head proudly as she listened to the pain-filled screams of Whisper and the furious hissing of Hollow. As with all the other fights, Hollow's size advantage eventually won out and soon the battle had ended. Except this time, Whisper didn't shove him off and shake out his fur while scolding Hollow on how sharp his claws were.
Whisper was still, his cries having faded out long ago as his fur was ripped away and the circle of cats surrounding the clearing drew in closer. Hollow's rage drained away the longer he stood staring at his best friend and he wailed when he realised what he'd done.
"W-whisper? Whisper, please!" he whimpered, trying to rouse the gray tom by shoving his head under cold limbs. Tears welled in his eyes as he quickly backed away from the limp tom, only to back into another cat and scrambling away, only to bump into another. The cats of Les Morts had gathered so close over the course of the battle that the tortoiseshell tom could barely get a tail-length from his friend without bumping into another member.
A few of the younger cats summoned the courage to step away from the group and try to approach Whisper's body only to be chased away by Hollow, his claws still stayed with the tom''s blood even as he crouched over him protectively, hissing and swiping at any who tried to come near.
"Well done, Hollow.. I am very pleased with your progress and how you handled yourself during the battle," Tarot commented as he stepped forward, the group obediently splitting apart as he approached the regretful tom, Gypsy following close behind.
A chill ran down his spine as he glanced around and saw nothing but wide grins and bright eyes surrounding him. "P-pleased?! How could you be pleased! I just killed my best friend for no reason!"
"I know.. that's what we trained you to do, the tom chuckled, stepping close and weaving around Hollow, even going as far as the carelessly step on Whisper's tail as he pushed Hollow forward. "Are you really surprised? You had to have known that he wouldn't survive the final test.. this was all for you. Les Morts, join me in welcoming our new warrior!"
"H-he was my best friend.." he breathed once more as he stood in the center of the group, trying to block out the cheers. "My best friend.."
--
Four moons had passed since the battle and every day, Hollow seemed to sink even deeper into himself, speaking less and performing his duties on complete auto-pilot - moving around the camp like a ghost while going out of his way to completely avoiding the dreaded clearing at the same time. The cats of Les Morts hadn't even been considerate enough to bury Whisper's, content to let him rot and be picked at my scavengers right there in full view of camp.
He'd tried to protect the body but had stopped a little more than three moons ago, simply dragging him into the surrounding woods and never looking back, trying valiantly to put the other tom out of his mind. Fate, however, seemed to have a different plan in mind as Hollow could swear that he would catch brief glimpses of Whisper around camp, somewhat see-through and never speaking, simply gazing at him with sad, round eyes.
Hollow wasn't sure which was worse, seeing Whisper's ghost simply watching him from the woods or the spark of rage that still formed in his chest when he saw him. He still couldn't say what had made him so furious in the first place and it tore at the tom's heart every day.
Gypsy had tried to speak to him for a few weeks after the battle, bruahing against him and attempting to congratulate him on a job well done, but after days of the tom being unresponsive, she'd given up and left him alone for the most part - only passing by to snap out an order, barely even stopping to look at him.
Even Tarot had stopped talking to him directly, though Hollow was covered in more than a few scars - having been the object of annoyed swipes when he simply shook or nodded his head in response to an order, eyes dull as he stared at the ground.
Hollow had - for the lack of a better word - become hollow and Les Morts was over it. However, it wasn't until a moon later that a final bit of straw settled on Hollow's sorrow that he broke completely.
His first raid since becoming a true member started with a ritual of rolling in patches of mud to covering any defining coat patterns and scent, before running through the forest and swarming up the trees as they neared their destination, hovering mere feet above the sleeping group of cats.
One could nearly taste the excitement radiating from the closely packed group, muscles tense and eyes bright as they waited to Tarot's signal, which he gave moments later - a single twitch of the tabby tom's ear sending streams of cats down to the ground in an instant. The memory of the raid on his own home had faded into the back of Hollow's thoughts but the sound of startled yowls and hisses of pain from the surprise cats below brought them all back and made him freeze in terror, watching as the cats he'd begun to call family cut down the other cats as thought they were simply a bush in their paths.
Hollow couldn't think, let alone breath as he scrambled backwards, knocking over an obviously pregnant she-cat who looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. His claws slid out on trained reflex before he glanced around and made a split second decision, leaning close and butting his head against her flank until she got the message. Dual emotions of shock and gratitude battled on the queen's face before she turned tail and disappeared into the forest.
"Did you just let a cat run without a scratch?" said a snarling voice behind him, revealed to belong to Gypsy as he whipped around. "Didn't I teach you better than this? You never let a cat escape, no matter what!"
His breath caught in his throat as he stared at his ex-mentor, claws stained and fur littered in new scars, frozen as the she-cat stalked forward. A ball of spitting fur rolled between the two, forcing Gypsy to stop and Hollow was quick to take advantage of the interruption, turning tail and making for the woods as fast as he could, Gypsy's furious cries fading behind him.
He ran until his legs collapsed under him and his breath rasped in his chest, the sounds of battle having long since faded as he stumbled a few more tail-lengths to rest against a tree. A glance or two over both shoulders confirmed that no-one had followed him and Hollow sighed in relief, taking a moment to close his eyes and catch his breath.
Cold fur brushed against his and he looked up to see Whisper standing beside him, looking slightly more solid and wearing a smile on his face instead of a sad frown. However, what he didn't notice was the newer, darker presence lurking just behind the pair in the shadows - this spirit seeming to flicker in and out of existence as though it was newer and had less stability. If Hollow had seen it, he would've realised that the dark spirit was none other than the calico she-cat who'd spent so much time with the tom. If he'd seen her, he would've guessed that rhe she-cat was punished for his mistakes and for him running off. But he didn't.. he only saw the one directly in front of him, who's death he was directly responsible for and never got over.
The ghostly cat pressed his nose against Hollow's ear gently before flicking his tail forward and bounding off, obviously hoping the tortoiseshell tom would follow him. Trusting his best friend was easier than ever in this moment and he struggled to his paws, chasing the faintly glowing tom out of the dark trees and into the light, the sound of water meeting land filling his ears. The air smelled cleaner and felt lighter as he wandered closer to the shore, jumping and whirling around with his claws out as a call of "Intruder!" rang out from a tree.
Almost instantly, a group of felines seemed to rise from the ground and move quickly to surround him. They seemed to mean business so he quickly crouched and tried to look as submissive as he could while simultaneously looking around for Whisper, hoping the spirit could help him in this moment.
"Who are you?" A hard voice demanded, belonging to a long legged silver she-cat. She obviously held a position of authority here and he shuffled his paws as he turned to face her, mouth opening and closing silently a few times as he tried to force words out but just couldn't.
Fur brushed his again and he blinked to see Whisper miming out his name on the ground with his claws. A light smile, the first one in moons, twitched onto his lips as he slowly unsheathed his claws and carved his name into the damp dirt.
H-O-L-L-O-W aiden || he/they || slytherin
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