✧ the exileThe mountains are an unforgiving place.
Anyone will tell you that, and if they disagree - well, they're wrong.
The mountains don't care about you, they don't care about me, and that won't ever change.
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The season of leaf-bare was unusually mild this time around. The snow that would typically cover the entire mountain with the blinding fury of cold was joyously absent, in its place a dense fog that drifted lazily over the treetops and down into the pine covered forests that rested on the side of the mountain. This was the home he was born into - a home of fog, used to having damp fur from the dew and constant drizzle that found it's way into the territory in place of the snow. Many in the area joked that they were secretly feathered rather than furred, the rainwater and the mist seemingly ignored by most.
A bout of warmer weather welcomed the arrival of a bundle of three kits, a large litter for leaf-bare, and a welcome sight for the cat who lived on the mountain, usually in solitude. The first thing that the young cat can remember, was the gentle sound of his mother calling his name.
Tempest.
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"Come on," the voice ahead of him sounded with a whine, making Tempest roll his eyes as he plodded along slowly. "I want to go faster!"
The kit watched carefully as his sister turned back, a playful gleam in her eyes, bouncing towards him and gently swiping her paw at his tall ear. Tempest batted a paw back, grinning, flicking his tail to let his sister know he was ready to give chase. "Finally!" She squealed, turning tail and scampering across the rocks as fast as her paws could carry her... which, at least to Tempest, was not fast at all.
It was easy to keep pace with her, his paws always having been bigger than hers. Still, Tempest didn't pass her, knowing that she liked to prove she could be just as strong and fast as he could. Cyclone was a whirlwind of energy, and Tempest seemed to be the only one willing to keep up with her. Storm was always lazing back at the camp with their mother, leaving Tempest and Cyclone to do whatever they wanted, to explore the mountainside with each other rather than with their littermate or mother. Neither really minded, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.
It was with Cyclone that Tempest felt the most at peace, the most welcomed, and the most comfortable. What he couldn't say in words, he knew Cyclone understood him. She never had to look at him like he was an outsider, and he never had to feel like he was different. Tempest adored the time they spent in the mountains, just the two of them, the world theirs and theirs alone.
"Hey, daydreamer," Cyclone's voice chimed into Tempest's thoughts, breaking him out of his stupor. He sheepishly grinned at her, flicking his ears in a question. Are we at that spot you wanted to show me?
Cyclone's eyes brightened, and the she-cat nodded, nudging her brother up the rocks a few more pawsteps. "We are here! Look! Over there!" Tempest followed her gaze and felt the breath in his chest disappear; awe, fear, and wonder all filled him at the same time, and he could do nothing but stand and blink for a few moments before being able to truly comprehend what he was looking at.
Cyclone watched patiently as Tempest took in the sight below them. The end of the world? He thought to himself, casting an inquisitive look over to Cyclone to ask the question in his mind. His sister shrugged, continuing her own watchful gaze at the scene below them.
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Cyclone and Tempest continued their daily excursions to see what they both now considered the edge of the world, ending each of their days with the trip up the rocks to look at the vast expanse that lie beneath them. Sometimes, it would give Tempest a feeling of extreme vertigo, so much so that he would back up a few paces, forgetting for a split second that he was safe, and that he wasn't falling into the abyss-like edge. As they each grew bigger, stronger, and gained more stamina, it was eventually Cyclone that suggested they try to see if the abyss was truly the end of the world after all.
Are you crazy? Tempest looked at his sister in alarm on the evening that she suggested it, bolting upright in their shared den with Storm and their mother, heart rate pulsing in his ears. Cyclone blinked at him, smiling mischievously, and nodded. "We should go tomorrow." Tempest stared into her eyes for a long while, trying to see if she was actually being serious, before his curiosity got the better of him. He rested his tail on Cyclone's head, and gave her a firm nod. Ok, let's do it. "At first light then?"
Yes.
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If Tempest were to remember the day for anything other than tragedy, he could tell others about the jokes he and Cyclone shared, of the new birds they saw, of the sights that had seemed to small from the top of the mountain suddenly making them feel like the small ones. He would recall the way the blue sky seemed to speak nothing of the day to come, the sunrise giving way to a cloudless, beautiful Newleaf day. He would tell someone about the joy he felt at being beside his sister.
But none of those positive feelings remained.
All Tempest remembers is despair. The void the pair of siblings had been seeing from the top of the mountain was a dark, cold lake, surrounded by trees, making it a secluded area. Cyclone had stepped closer to the water without thinking, the slippery rocks caused her to fall in.
All Tempest remember is losing Cyclone to the ice cold waters, still with ice on the edges from the chilly Leafbare temperatures. She had slipped in, and there was nothing Tempest could do to save her, his soundless howl of despair unable to call for help.
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"You lost her." The words were dull, and Tempest flinched, unable to meet his mother's eyes. He made no other movement, Storm making a low whimer beside their mother.
"I knew I should have never trusted her with you." The words were a growl now.
"Leave. I never want to see you again."