| abstract
| - I am the cat that lives alone. I still remember my home. It was nice, and warm, and full of other cats who were friendly. It was a place where every cat was free to be himself, and no cat was ever turned away. It was the last place that I remember feeling safe. Since then, I have been alone, banished to live a life that no cat should ever have to live. My life is surely the worst of all lives, and the loneliest; no one is happy when I come. Misery reigns instead, and cats cast me aside for their own selfish wants. I am the cat who has no home. I live wherever I can find shelter: under a bush, in a tree, beside a river. I move when I cannot stay, and I stay where I cannot live. No one knows me, and no one wants me. I'm very lonely. It's hard, living alone, and I don't think that most cats understand that. The Clan cats have each other. Kittypets have their housefolk. Even rogues can turn to each other in their times of need. But I have none of that. I am the cat who is understood by no one. I am the cat who was sentenced to die. I am Winter. I awake in an unfamiliar place. Tiny lines of white light peer through the gaps in the branches like shy kits asking to play. It is dark, and quiet; only the simple songs of birds and the whispering of the wind break the silence. I stand, and stretch; the days have been long and tiring. Pushing my way out of the briar bush where I took shelter, I gaze right at the calm blue sky, which is a vessel for wispy white clouds here, but also for dark clouds farther away. I breathe in the sharp smell of fresh forest air, and I try to notice all the details of my surroundings. This is a beautiful place, perhaps one of the most beautiful places I have ever lived. Flowers, bright and cheerful, spring up from fertile ground, and it is peaceful, unclaimed by any cats. As I pad quietly down to the riverbank, I realize how fortunate I am to be here, even if only for a little while. The river water is clear and blue, and it tastes sweet on my tongue. I drink as much as I need to slake my thirst, then sit back. Fish, sleek and silver, jump out of the water as they make their way down the river. If I ever need to, I might try to catch one of the fish, but as long as prey runs rich in the forest, I will do without fish. I do not want to be like the greedy cats who claim all the prey as their own. The day has only just begun, and I start to think about what I want to do while I'm here. I have to hunt sometimes, obviously, but I also want to get a taste for the prey here so that I can someday find my way back. I resolve to learn the herbs of the area and explore some of the ground as well. I walk back over to the bush that served as my den last night. Although the briars are sharp, bearing a fair amount of my fur from when I entered and exited it, there is a hollow space inside that was hidden enough to conceal me from predators or other cats. It was nice, and I think I'll use this as my den for a few days. A sudden movement catches my eye, and I freeze, hardly daring to blink. My nostrils flare as I pick up the scent of a water vole. The scent is fresh, and before long I can see the small, slender brown creature scrabbling through the grass. I crouch down low and stalk forwards, although not as neatly as other cats might. Before I have gotten near enough to kill the vole, however, a branch snaps under my paw and furry ears shoot up. Cursing my clumsiness, I chase after the fleeing vole. It leads me a bit deeper into the forest, and I soon lose track of it amid the shadows. However, I quickly realize that it is starting to rain. Unsure of the way back to my makeshift den, I turn around, scenting the air and soon enough finding my own scent trail. I run along the scent trail, paws light and swift, and I arrive back at the small clearing with the briar bush before the heaviest rain starts to fall. Pushing my way through the branches, I settle down into the comfortable space and wait. As I lay here and think, somehow I fall asleep. ~ ~ I wake up with tears streaming down my face. Finally the storm passes, and although the echoing words from my dream still haunt me, I have stopped trembling and find myself able to face the day. What did that dream mean? Is it just a reflection of how I feel? I can't believe that I would wish such a fate on anyone else. But I can't think of any other explanation. Standing as best as I can in such a confined space, I shake out my fur and push my way back outside. The sky has been cleared of clouds, resuming its cheerful blue facade. For the first time, I wonder if I'm the same as the sky. It faces storms, anguished and angry, and tries to tear itself apart, but eventually it returns to peace. The storms may rage, chilling all who get stuck inside them, but afterwards the sun returns to warm the wind. Will I ever be able to live among cats once more, warmed by their presence, or will I be fated to live alone for the rest of my moons? It hurts too much to think about. I set out to learn more about my temporary home. After a long day of working out the uses of various herbs and the scents of various types of prey, I partook in a wonderful night's sleep, dreamless but peaceful. Waking, however, is quite another matter altogether. I awake the next morning to the sharp and unmistakeable scent of a rogue. I don't know how I missed this scent before; I scoured the entire area surrounding the briar bush and found no trace of any other cats. Clearly, I missed something. I was clearly wrong. Almost before I can fully emerge from my nest, a nearly red ball of fur laced with tints of brown explodes from the nearby undergrowth, bowling me over and pinning me to the ground. It takes me a moment to clear the shock from my head and gaze clearly at the cat who has overtaken me. The cat, whose scent is that of a tomcat's, is huge and red. His fur is not the red color of blood, but rather the rusty reddish-brown of fallen autumn leaves. He has eyes the deep green color of the forest, and carefully sharpened claws that now press down onto my throat. "Who are you?" he growls in a deep, rumbling voice. "I smelled your scent on this bush, but I didn't know that you had plans to stay here." His tail flicks from side to side threateningly. "I'm just passing through," I reply hoarsely, trying not to move for fear that his claws will slip and slice me open. "Give me a couple of days, and I will leave. I have traveled far...." I let my voice trail off as his eyes narrow to slits. "A traveller?" he asks, his narrowed eyes alight with some odd combination of fear and fury. "Well, you'll have to find somewhere else to live. I, too, have been travelling for quite some time, and I have claimed this area for my own." "But maybe we could help each other," I blurt suddenly. "What?" He recoils as though struck. My mind races as I try to find a way to reconcile my stupid mouth's ideas. "I mean, maybe if we're both travelling the same direction, we could go together. It would be easier to defend ourselves," I say lamely. To my surprise, his claws sheathe and he steps off of me. "You have some intelligence for a rogue of your age," he says gruffly. "Tell me, what is your name?" "Winter. And yours?" His eyes flash with recognition, which confuses me, but it's replaced by blankness so quickly that I'm not even sure if I saw it. "I prefer not to freely give my real name, but you may call me Blood Dawn." His even tone is almost condescending, but I brush that aside, relieved that he's acting friendlier than before. "Blood Dawn." I roll his name around in my mind. "Which way are you going?" He shrugs, turning to gaze down in the direction of the river. "Any way. I just want to get away... far, far away...." His voice is filled with a lonely longing that sounds just like the way I feel. "I know the feeling. I was cast out, and now I travel alone. Would it be alright for us to travel together?" I ask, suddenly feeling shy. I have no intention of forcing him to come with a wretch like me. He doesn't respond for a long moment, and I almost wonder if he will take off with out a reply. I'm almost ready to either ask my question again or ask him to leave when he glances back at me. "Yes... yes, I think that would be fine. As long as you understand that I do not submit to anyone." "Of course," I assure the muscular tom. We talk for a time, until the sun climbs high into the sky and he takes off to go hunting. I walk down to the river, quenching my thirst with mouthfuls of icy cold water as I wait for his return. My mind is ablaze with thoughts and fantasies. Blood Dawn. This will be the first cat that I have spoken to since the time I left my family's territory behind. I fear that my manners are a bit rusty from lack of use, but no matter what else I feel, my relief is overwhelming. I hated being alone. But I'm no longer alone. As soon as Blood Dawn comes back, I resolve, I will ask him more about himself. I want to know so many things about the world, his past, his travels.... I want to know everything! ~ I've been travelling with Blood Dawn for some time now, and I feel like I know him a little better. I certainly know that he's more reserved than most other cats I've met, at least. He's... a lot like me...? We have travelled far and fast, and I have quickly left behind the land which holds all of my bad memories. Blood Dawn has never stated where he intends to go. It is possible that he is wandering erratically, but... he seems to walk with more purpose than that. I asked him about it once. He merely replied, "I'm going where my heart takes me."
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