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Literature Text
Firo. I should talk to Firo. Firo will know.
She's terrified. She's paced around the entire camp more times than she can count, and her legs feel like hollow reeds. She's refused food and drink and company. She's lost track of time. But she has, finally, come to a conclusion.
Her treacherous legs carry her to the den she saw her brother enter, however long ago, before and after Nuri was buried. In her throat, she feels the fear pounding to be let out, and swallows again and again to keep it restrained. Before she can lose her nerve, she pushes her head and shoulders into the dim space.
Her voice is low and close to cracking, emotion, dehydration, and disuse.
"Kintsu?"
It's all she can think. Maybe she's in shock. No, most likely she's in shock. She only wanted to make sure her brother was safe, after the terrible storm that had ripped through the land. And instead, she had been greeted with her brother dragging the corpse of her mate into camp so the rest could see it.
She hadn't even known who it was, at the time. Just another red-brown pelt and a pervasive sense of this is wrong.
But Iris knew. Iris had known who the cat was, and before long, Shi had as well.
She hadn't even known the name of her brother's mate. And she hadn't known, had no idea, that her beloved brother had settled down with his mate and had kits.
That was the hardest blow of all. All her own fears, swarming to the surface to feed, projecting onto her brother. They were young, they were so young, weren't they? Not even two seasons. Did either of them know how to care for kits? They must have known, or learned, if these kits were still alive.
Alive, but only for now.
How long? How... How old? Can they even live without milk? Will they live through the night, without their mother?
Fear chokes her, a parasite eating her from the inside out. Firo, she thinks, Firo would know. I need to tell him. But she can't, she can't, she can't leave her brother again. If her negligence caused this catastrophe, she cannot afford to make the same mistake. And if it was her presence... The idea chews at her, but in the end, it's still the same. She can't leave him again. If her coming to the tribes made all these bad things happen, then the least she can do is stay by his side if the world continues to crumble.
She doesn't know the first thing about kits. She nearly had a chance to find out, once, but threw it away. Or perhaps, fate stole it.
She doesn't know the first thing about kits. She nearly had a chance to find out, once, but threw it away. Or perhaps, fate stole it.
She's terrified. She's paced around the entire camp more times than she can count, and her legs feel like hollow reeds. She's refused food and drink and company. She's lost track of time. But she has, finally, come to a conclusion.
Her treacherous legs carry her to the den she saw her brother enter, however long ago, before and after Nuri was buried. In her throat, she feels the fear pounding to be let out, and swallows again and again to keep it restrained. Before she can lose her nerve, she pushes her head and shoulders into the dim space.
Her voice is low and close to cracking, emotion, dehydration, and disuse.
"Kintsu?"
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I was inspired... Haha whoops. But this is pretty much a summary of what Shi's been doing since she walked in on Nuri's death.
This submission is RESTRICTED to direct responses from Kintsu (Zaabu), Iris/Castail (SilvahSquirtle), or Palette (Bayflight) if they choose, and indirect responses from cats in Fire-Tribe, or Firo (Sycophantism).
Points to ET.
This submission is RESTRICTED to direct responses from Kintsu (Zaabu), Iris/Castail (SilvahSquirtle), or Palette (Bayflight) if they choose, and indirect responses from cats in Fire-Tribe, or Firo (Sycophantism).
Points to ET.
© 2014 - 2024 KalCity
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It took her a while to stop crying. At least, for the tears to stop flowing; her breath still quivered terribly.
Robin. It couldn't be. Not her sweet, fiery sister. Not their mother's near spitting image. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.
Iris stared out the camp entrance. Hadn't the last time she'd been here been to witness their mother's demise? She remembered clearly, padding side by side with her litter mates. She remembered dear Maika - bless her soul - bringing back Tzurai's heirlooms. She remembered refusing one for herself - she'd grown independent from fire tribe; she didn't deserve a pendant when her sisters and their tribe mate peers had a much deeper bond with the former silver fire.
The yellow fire had already traveled back to camp, bearing Robin's accessories. Her body was gone. The orange earth flitted out of her sorrow.
Her body!? Where was it!? Had it been given to the spirits, as Tzurai had done with her own? Iris jumped to her paws, galloping out into fire tribe's vast moors. Around her, the weather was still intense, but she continued past it 'I have to pay my respects! I have to honor her! I can't just weep like I did mother and Rub-!'
The speckled she cat stopped in her tracts. A few yards a way, a mound lifted from the other wise smooth gravely surface of ember hills. It was fresh. She raced over to it, skidding onto her stomach. She laid her head against the disturbed earth, breathing in whatever remained of her sister's scent. "Robin. Sweet, precious, brave Robin." she crooned , as if the ginger she cat could hear her.
Quick as she could, the orange earth activated her tattoo. She hadn't brought any seeds; she could only hope fire tribe had some dormant plants on their lands that she could will to sprout.
Her hopes weren't ignored, as a few minutes later, a bright green vine formed from the dusty earth, slowly heightening, and finally sprouting into a bloom of intense red. Iris's choked on her sob, smiling and grimacing at what seemed the same time. Bright red, just as Robin had been. Bright. "Sweet, precious Robin." she repeated.
Robin. It couldn't be. Not her sweet, fiery sister. Not their mother's near spitting image. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.
Iris stared out the camp entrance. Hadn't the last time she'd been here been to witness their mother's demise? She remembered clearly, padding side by side with her litter mates. She remembered dear Maika - bless her soul - bringing back Tzurai's heirlooms. She remembered refusing one for herself - she'd grown independent from fire tribe; she didn't deserve a pendant when her sisters and their tribe mate peers had a much deeper bond with the former silver fire.
The yellow fire had already traveled back to camp, bearing Robin's accessories. Her body was gone. The orange earth flitted out of her sorrow.
Her body!? Where was it!? Had it been given to the spirits, as Tzurai had done with her own? Iris jumped to her paws, galloping out into fire tribe's vast moors. Around her, the weather was still intense, but she continued past it 'I have to pay my respects! I have to honor her! I can't just weep like I did mother and Rub-!'
The speckled she cat stopped in her tracts. A few yards a way, a mound lifted from the other wise smooth gravely surface of ember hills. It was fresh. She raced over to it, skidding onto her stomach. She laid her head against the disturbed earth, breathing in whatever remained of her sister's scent. "Robin. Sweet, precious, brave Robin." she crooned , as if the ginger she cat could hear her.
Quick as she could, the orange earth activated her tattoo. She hadn't brought any seeds; she could only hope fire tribe had some dormant plants on their lands that she could will to sprout.
Her hopes weren't ignored, as a few minutes later, a bright green vine formed from the dusty earth, slowly heightening, and finally sprouting into a bloom of intense red. Iris's choked on her sob, smiling and grimacing at what seemed the same time. Bright red, just as Robin had been. Bright. "Sweet, precious Robin." she repeated.