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Main thread
To adopt you must either have a founder and be level 1. Or, you can adopt this one as your founder!

Short fur + fluffy tail was requested.

This cat is avoiding talking for one day - why? You have 300 words and this ends at 5 pm edt tomorrow.

Code: Select all

[b]username:[/b]
[b]Link to thread:[/b]
[b]name:[/b]
[b]prompt:[/b]

[BiscuitTheDog]

*when u see a new cat right as you check the main thread* :eyes:

username: BiscuitTheDog
Link to thread: heehee
name: Oil Spill (goes by Oil)
prompt:

Oil's heart pounded.
"Don't speak." his mother had whimpered, "Don't even breathe."
Of course Oil had to breathe, but he kept it to a minimum.
One may wonder, "Why must you stay silent, Oil?"
If Oil was allowed to talk, trust me, he wouldn't.

Here's this, though.
Dogs. Adorable to many humans, scary to many others.
But to feral cats they may as well be one's worst nightmare.

Oil lived in the back of a gas station. It was common to inhale smoke and chemicals here, and as such the cats had minor to extreme breathing problems. It didn't affect Oil much at all, but his sister wheezed every few seconds. Which was a problem.
Everyday, the same human came to the station in a dull green car called a "Jeep." It was loud.
The human who controlled this Jeep was a big, brawny male. This human was dangerous, and Oil had seen it before.
It was a cold, rainy day. All Oil's father had been doing was scrounging for food near that human's truck.
A well-aimed rock ended his life.
But the human wasn't the most dangerous thing that came everyday. It was the human's two dogs: Plutus, a thin Husky, and Accey, a Rottweiler. They came and they stayed.
These dogs were the bane of Oil's existence.
The pair would come by the bushes that Oil's family lived in. They'd sniff the bush as if they expected any other family of cats to be there.
If one didn't stay still and quiet, they'd find themselves dead in the mouth of one of the dogs.
Oil Spill's sister wheezed, as aforementioned. It was always horrible, seeing his mother holding her paw over his sister's snout. But she'd always tell him, "It is either this, or death. You choose, son."
(300 words)

[Zephara]

smol mark

[Lumos12]

username: Lumos12
Link to thread: https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=103&t=4292094
name: Cassandra (Charcoalstreak)
prompt:
From sunrise to sunset it was customary for a newly made fighter to be keep their silence.

A whole day without talking was almost a direct pain since she actually enjoyed talking to other cats, so this was going to be a hassle in a half. The black tabby shuffled her paws nervously keeping her mouth shut following every single order that was given to her. Even if her eyes betrayed her behavior, and she bit her tongue to keep her silence, tasting blood more than once, when the requests were getting more and more specific.

She remembered what her mentor had taught her about shallow breathing, breathing through her mouth than through her nose. Since she would have given herself away long ago to whoever was hunting or traveling in the mountains. Her bushy tail flicking behind her as she worked herself into a trance, attending and fulfilling every single request that was given to her, by mostly expecting mothers, annoying kits, and grumpy elders.

Of course, she was been shadowed by senior warriors, one unlucky senior fighter who watched her like a hawk making sure that not a single sound could be heard from the young femme.t She took her vows, and she was going to hold her word, keeping true. Her footsteps were followed has she left from place to place even if she could barely breathe a grumble in her step. She practiced patience and kept a mantra has she returned once more from scrambling to hunt for the freshest, tastiest piece of prey that the mountains had to offer back to camp.

Not a single word of thanks, the prey was collected from her, and the cat went onwards to share the freshest piece of prey whomever they deem fit, while her fur prickled hotly with her scathing words under her tongue.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting. Clearly enough her vigil was going to break soon enough, and the words she wanted to hear all day, was spoken towards her.

“Alright, you may speak now. Well done, young fighter. You have honored the code, and you have done the gods proud.”

Characoalstreak took the deepest and loudest breath and exhaled. “Oh, thank the gods its finally over!” her voice husky from a day of complete silence, and she winced.
( 387 words)

[ataraxic_gone]

username: ataraxic_king
Link to thread: Tacenda
name: VixenClaw
prompt:
There were few things that could turn a tide more than the power of words. Speaking that which you knew and that which you understood while spreading that understanding from your mouth to the ears of others.

Actions, however, those could on the best of occasions beat the finest, silver coated words.

VixenClaw had never been one to lay out words with fine melody and gracious tact- she was more the sort to bulldoze through anyone else's opinion by being louder, meaner and scarier. It was because in some way she did care, she just didn't have the thought to express it better.

Granted, there was only so much that shouting and raving could do.

What is one to do when everything you say, loud as a wildfire over the hills, is ignored.

You let the fire burn out, let those who had relied on you go cold.

Vixen had strived to warn her leader of the vicious attack the other clan had been planning to set upon them for days, and as the dawn rose on the day this attack was said to take place, she fell perfectly silent. Emerald eyes staring viciously, with heated fury towards the face of RootStar. A fool leading the foolish.

Whatever happened next would be on him, she owed him nothing to continue trying when her voice fell on the ears of the ignorant. So her last act of defiance, as the lives of some of her clan mates ran short, was to steal away her final warnings and reside in spite.

Dawn had faded, dusk approached.

A flicker in the corner of her eye was the only warning sign from an ally, to her alone, that the battle would start now.

Whatever happened next, it wasn't on her. [296]

[clouds-move-on]

*when u see a new cat right as you check the main thread* :eyes:

username: BiscuitTheDog
Link to thread: heehee
name: Oil Spill (goes by Oil)
prompt:

Oil's heart pounded.
"Don't speak." his mother had whimpered, "Don't even breathe."
Of course Oil had to breathe, but he kept it to a minimum.
One may wonder, "Why must you stay silent, Oil?"
If Oil was allowed to talk, trust me, he wouldn't.

Here's this, though.
Dogs. Adorable to many humans, scary to many others.
But to feral cats they may as well be one's worst nightmare.

Oil lived in the back of a gas station. It was common to inhale smoke and chemicals here, and as such the cats had minor to extreme breathing problems. It didn't affect Oil much at all, but his sister wheezed every few seconds. Which was a problem.
Everyday, the same human came to the station in a dull green car called a "Jeep." It was loud.
The human who controlled this Jeep was a big, brawny male. This human was dangerous, and Oil had seen it before.
It was a cold, rainy day. All Oil's father had been doing was scrounging for food near that human's truck.
A well-aimed rock ended his life.
But the human wasn't the most dangerous thing that came everyday. It was the human's two dogs: Plutus, a thin Husky, and Accey, a Rottweiler. They came and they stayed.
These dogs were the bane of Oil's existence.
The pair would come by the bushes that Oil's family lived in. They'd sniff the bush as if they expected any other family of cats to be there.
If one didn't stay still and quiet, they'd find themselves dead in the mouth of one of the dogs.
Oil Spill's sister wheezed, as aforementioned. It was always horrible, seeing his mother holding her paw over his sister's snout. But she'd always tell him, "It is either this, or death. You choose, son."
(300 words)

winner :D

[BiscuitTheDog]

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much thank