Username: ivyy.
Clan: ≋O≋c≋e≋a≋n≋ ≋C≋l≋a≋nQuest Number: quest #2
Response: superhero stuff -------
Quest Number: quest #3
Response: "You're useless."
"Race you to the tree, Reed!"
"Not if I gets there first!"
Being the slowest of her litter wasn't a bother to her, she knew how her two older brothers always won because of their physical advantage and she was perfectly fine with that. At least her parents weren't there at the moment to see her miserably loose once more. The two brown tabby tom twins dashed through the trees, leaving behind a flattened trail of dry bushes, weeds, and loose pebbles for Briar to chase after. "I'll make sure no one cheats!" She squeaked, stomping through their path. The cliff edge ahead of her threatened her menacingly as she dashed towards it, knowing the dangers but being fully comfortable with it considering they
always took this path.
Mother and father would let her fall off of it if they found her and her brothers playing nearby it. Luckily for her, they were both out hunting. Maybe there would be new kittens to play with soon. Although, the regal she-cats last litter, sickly Briar and her unborn siblings, was a fail which angered her father quite a bit to the point he screamed and left berry juice trickling down her mother's shoulder. Briar had been punished in the hole that day for asking her mother what was wrong. It was foolish of her to show compassion, as her father would always tell her as she sat in the dank, moist, dirt hole alone. He always said that she musn't show a trace of remorse or care for anyone because they would turn around and stab her in the back or lead her into a fox's jaws.
Father and mother weren't like her brothers. They were treasured for their bravery of so many feats she hadn't ever heard of them completing, as if they were made up on the spot just to give her parents another reason to hate her for what she wasn't capable of doing. Her brothers made fun of her for it to. Maybe they were beginning to be like Mother and Father. Briar's little paws stormed across the stoney edge, heading towards the cliff edge, getting ready to turn to the right to avoid falling and still somewhat keep up with Thistle and Reed.
Skidding to a halt, she heard the voices of her mother and father yelling. Not their angry yells, their fearful yells. Something she had only heard once before, when a fox was threatening Thistle and Reed a few weeks after she was born. They had left her all alone in the den that day to take their boys on a celebratory hutning trip for accidentally nicking one in the ear. Briar cowered at the sound of her father's pawsteps, some she had come to remember by the sounds of urgency in them. Her tail tucked between her legs as the red tabby tom rounded the corner of the cliff, right before the dry underbrush led to the cliff's end, howling her name.
There was a new look in his eyes, one she had seen before but never as fierce as he was today. His claws were unsheathed and he stretched them out before she could react, catching her sharply in the foreleg, drawing a sharp cry of pain from the young she-cat. "
What did you do?" His yowl echoed through the mountains, the whole collection of the mountains' animals could probably hear him perfectly. She cowered, unable to force herself to answer with short explanations as she usually did, afraid that no matter what she said it wouldn't be good enough for him. "I asked you a question, answer me!"
Just around the bushes, she barely noticed the flick of her mother's mottled tail, her beautiful calico pelt showing through the sparse, dead undergrowth. "Ender, I've got them!" She called from the other side. Not even that convinced her father to take his vengeful eyes off her. "How
dare you even think you could get away with this. This- this crime that you've comitted!" He grabbed her by the scruff and threw her a few paw steps closer to the cliff's edge, not fearing even a bit for his daughter's life. A loud thump could be heard when Briar hit her head against the rough rock below her. She cried for her mother and brothers but not even they would dare intrude in her punishment. "Why?" She asked, crying. "What do?" She choked out. Her father hunched his shoulders and hissed, staring daggers at her as he came closer and closer.
"Why? WHY?" He echoed her question, "You can't even speak properly for Sky's sake!" He put his nose not even an inch from hers and hissed through gritted teeth, "Almost leading your brother's to a death trap." Briar winced, shaking as though she had hypothermia from the cliff's chilly winter winds that weren't even around this far into Newleaf. "Have you nothing to say for your sorry self?" He whispered menacingly. Before she knew it, he had grabbed her scruff once more and between her fur said a few last words before she'd find herself experiencing an undeserved fate, "You're
useless."
Briar's brown patched paws struggled against thin air as she fell to the rushing river below.
Word Count: 881
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Quest Number: quest #1
Response: Wanderer gazed out at the prairie, a small, secluded town laid out before him. His companion, Tiki, crawled onto the top of his head, looking at the landscape in front of them cautiously. He let out a small squeak, one of curiosity. Although Tiki had been munching at flies and beetles bothering Wanderer, Wanderer hadn't had a real meal in over a week, unless you count the crow food he had eaten three days ago. The sun had begun to set by the time they discovered the village, unsure whether or not to make a move forward in hopes of finding a good meal and some water for a bit. Wanderer sighed and looked beyond the village at the setting sun, "We'll have to go, I can't promise you'll be safe so stay nearby but don't follow me."
Tiki made an inward croaking sound that definitely meant he didn't like the idea of separating himself from his cat companion. Wanderer bowed his head and ignored the indignant sound his friend made, "I'll get you close and then you find a safe corner to squeeze into. I'll see what I can gather from the residents." Wanderer told him, clearly not open to any other ideas or questions his little salamander might propose. "Let's go."
Upon arrival, the sun had already disappeared behind the mountains and there were no scents of other creatures besides a few small field mice here and there that were much too fast for the exhausted and half-starved Wanderer. The air was dry and crisp, an occasional breeze stirring up the older tom's fur. The path towards the town was made of rough gravel which hurt his sore paws more than they already were, drawing a few irritated grunts as he made his way down the path and into the two-legs town. It was quiet but he could hear the laugh of a two-leg kit here and there which startled him, considering the last time he discovered a two-leg kit in person was when he met Tiki.
"Get in the pouch." He whispered to his friend, flicking his right ear. For now, it'd be safer to keep his buddy right next to him. The salamander understood his words and ear flick and quickly scuttled into the leather pouch Wanderer had carved for herbs before he had found his friend. Wanderer perked his ears, feeling slightly less worried knowing his companion was safely tucked away in a warm space. He meowed a couple of times, stopping in between mews to hear for a response. The town wasn't interested in him, for a change. In his previous adventures, Wanderer was the one attracting two legs, not the other way around. Time for a new tactic.
A soft mrrow echoed from the tom's throat as he gently scratched at a wooden door. The porch light turned on and he stood a bit back from the door, just in case it opened right on him which he, unfortunately, experienced before. An elderly couple greeted him, speaking a language he, of course, could not understand. The couple did make a familiar sound, however, the classic human "pspspsps" sound that had been engraved in the tom's memory since kittenhood. These two legs seemed old enough that he could escape fairly fast if needed, even if he was in the house. He cautiously tried to act cute, standing up on his back legs and doing a few classic leg rubs against the two humans.
Before long, the two legs opened their door for him, allowing him inside and leading him toward a pair of small silver bowls. Wanderer recognized these as cat bowls from his past and his hackles rose. Just then, a shadow cast over him. One of another cat, a cat that had claimed this household way before he had entered, from the looks of the engravings on the bowl. "Hello!" A plain white cat with crossed eyes grinned at him, wagging his tail in a dog-like manner as if he was one. "Greetings." Wanderer bowed his head, respectful to the fact this cat owned these two legs first. "They call me
George! What's your name, new friend?" George asked, beaming, clearly not being worried that he could very well be in danger considering Wanderer's slight advantage in size and experience. "They call me Wanderer."
"Welcome, Wanderer! Usually, they save cats for the man in the white and red apron but I'm glad you get to be here instead. Help yourself to whatever..." Wanderer's heart stopped and his fur spiked. The man in the red and white apron? He wasn't talking about the elderly couple he was talking about the meat cutter. His mind grew into a haze, "Wait wait, what do you mean the man in the red and white apron?" George tilted his head a little to the left, "Uh... you know, the man in the red and white apron. He brings meat to the poorer families and stuff. You've never seen one before?" Wandered reared back and accidentally spilled most of the water in the water bowl behind him, his back right paw now soaked from stepping into it.
"George, we have to go." He told him, gazing around from an escape from the homestead. Wanderer forgot his growling belly, barely full from the bits of food he had managed to eat before the white cat introduced himself. "What? Why would we leave?" George asked, calmly and innocently sitting to itch the back of his ear. "Because you and I will become crow food if we don't." Wanderer couldn't believe the ignorance of the young tom. True he seemed to barely be older than seven or eight journeys of the moon but that didn't matter. He said it himself. "Crowfood? Erm... we're safe here. The two legs love me." He purred proudly and stuck his chest out in pride. "No, they don't. Either you leave with me or you can stay here and end up as dog food. Your choice." That seemed to stun that young cat into reconsidering his life choices. "George, please. Where is the nearest exit?" George stared at his paws for a moment before flicking his white fluffy tail in the direction of the kitchen entryway where a half-open window sat above the kitchen sink.
"Squeeze your hind end in there, George!" Wanderer hissed in fear, his companion shifting nervously in the leather pouch still attached to his hips. With a pop, George managed to get through the other side of the window which relieved Wanderer from a chunk of his stress. Wanderer gently called for his companion, "Tiki, get out of the pouch and climb down the wall. I told the cat on the other side you're a friend." Footsteps thundered across the floor as the two legs realized that their cats were gone from the other rooms in the house. The adrenaline rushing through Wanderer's veins gave him a familiar burst of strength and speed as he squeeze through the half-open window. "Almost... got it..." He grunted and hissed when he felt hands touch his tail with a rough intensity that urged him to run even though he was stuck. Wanderer yowled in fear as whoever two-leg pulled on his tail to get him out from the window sill. George overheard from below and scaled the wall with a surprising amount of agility.
With an unsheathed paw, he swiped, and the white cat managed to slash a few large scratches in the hand of the elderly man through the crack of the window. While the man was busy cradling his newfound injury, George grabbed Wanderer's scruff and yanked, pulling him through the window. "Run, George, I'll be right behind you!" He panted, quickly scooping up his companion who was nervously waiting for him at the bottom of the wall. "Run and don't look back!"
Word Count: 1,316
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