Username: huddson
Cat Name: Quietcloud
Clan: ShallowClanRank: Warrior
Gender: Male
Age: 52 Moons
Prompt:i learned that drawing on to the thing isn't allowed so i'll just describe it ^^;;
white mark: the white marking is a small amount of white on the tips of his ears
scar: a thick line over his left eye
(977 words, i got carried away lol)
A strip of lightning flew across the sky, striking a tall red rock that was leaning against the side of the cliff. The searing white light flashed over Quietcloud's face, crossing his left eye, and he blinked as thunder stole any silence that the waves on the beach had not yet taken.
He took a step forward, gingerly placing his paw on one of the slippery pebbles that littered the beach, careful not to slip. He took another step forward, and then another, flicking his tail in minor annoyance. He flattened his ears in a vain attempt to block out any of the noise that the crashing tide was making.
Doing the nightly beach patrol was usually his favourite job, but with the storm tonight, it felt like more of a chore than anything else. He was almost certain that he should have coerced Tidestar to do it instead, but the leader had already been asleep by the time that the moon had risen, and he wasn't the type to wake others up for petty things like this, and so he had left camp alone to do the patrol.
When the distant yowling reached his ears, he was barely sure that he had heard it at all. He pricked his ears, standing them up straight, straining to hear the sound again. It was no cat that he recognized, but said cat couldn't have been older than perhaps six moons. The yowling dipped in volume for a few moments before rising once again, now muffled by the wind which had suddenly picked up.
He tasted the air, desperately attempting to pick up any scent. It turned out that he didn't need to. Through the pelting rain, he managed to catch a glimpse of a young cat standing on a rock that was surrounded by water, a dark silhouette against even darker clouds.
No longer caring about the possibility of slipping, he sprinted across the rocky beach, and immediately waded his way into the water. It splashed violently against his legs, and the currents swirled around his paws, teasing him and threatening to pick him up and carry him off.
He swam deeper into the water, paddling against the tides. He pushed his paws deeper into the water, pushing off against any land that he was able to touch. The young cat, who was, as he could see now, a total stranger to him, was watching with wide eyes and claws attempting to gain any sort of hold on the slippery rock that stood beneath them. They picked up a paw and shook it before setting it back down in a new position, a hopefully safer position.
Quietcloud's paws felt weak against the rushing tide.
Quietcloud's whiskers were drenched in the water.
Quietcloud struggled to keep his mouth above the water.
The scent of salt assaulted him. It washed over him, it dug into his nose and stung.
He thrust his paws back down into the water, finding a small patch of solid ground, and he used it to shakily stand up amongst the waves.
The other cat stepped down with caution and Quietcloud wordlessly took their scruff into his mouth, picking them up, maneuvering his teeth around to get a better grip. He slipped back into the water and with great effort, began his swim back to the shore. The kit in his jaws was crying, swearing, apologizing, and just mindlessly mewling in general. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to blot out all of the noise around him. The kit's voice, the heavy wind, the crashing of the waves, and the thunder that refused to be silenced. Although, it seemed to Quietcloud that either the thunder would be silenced, or he would. It was not a comforting thought, but it was the only one that he could hold on to as his body dipped under the waves, as the water not rolled but rather crashed over his fur, pressing it down into his body, pressure placed against his ribs. As his ribcage ached, he saw himself in his mind's eye as one of the mice that he would hunt, bones snapping under the jaws of the ocean.
The salt in his eyes blinded him and he barely registered as the screaming kit he held was taken from him. A cat's cheek pressed against his, urging him to move forward. He was almost at the shore.
Once more, he shoved his paws downward. He found ground. He placed both of his front paws on a large stone-
Quietcloud's eyes were underwater. Everything he heard was muted, muffled, the world around him was blurry, all the sound was drowned.
Drowned.
Drowning.
He forced his mouth open only to choke on a rush of saltwater.
His face hit the ground; a sharp stone struck above his eye. It stung, it stung, it stung. A deep red, almost shaded navy blue, hovered across his vision. He didn't know if the salt he tasted was from water or blood.
A blunt pair of teeth gripped the back of his neck, and he felt himself hoisted out of the water. As his ears broke the surface, he was so aware of everything being so loud, no longer hushed by the water that had surrounded him.
He was pulled onto the shore. He held his eyes half open, and was greeted with the sight of unfamilar paws in front of him, worrying over him.
Someone licked his wound. Someone pressed some herbs above his eye. Someone murmured something.
Smaller paws padded over to him, and he recognized them as belonging to the kit that he had just saved.
He blinked, and the thunder quieted around him. A few small raindrops hit his nose and he didn't flinch.
He took a breath and exhaled.
The thunder quieted around him. He passed out.
