[justify][size=1]( mobile, sorry for mistakes )
It was one of those days. He could hear it in the gently crooned out language of the ancient gales that blew over the lands, feel it in the sudden curl of crushed grass as he so mercilessly trampled down the army of green, smell it in the pungent scents of blood and love that were permanently ingrained into the stubborn earth below. It was not often that he gave the world he lived in much thought, but when senses beckoned he could not deny it, and now the scrawny, black and white child was wandering in a direction dictated by the wind and rain that lashed him many a time during his journey. He was, for the most part, one with the wild, a wanderer with no home, no friends, no family. For this his days could seem long and lonesome, and the times when the need for company pierced his heart were hard, but he could plough on to the unsung melody of the thrumming planet at his paws and know he would be ok. Those were the moments of satisfaction he lived for -- and the moments when he could simply stop and gaze upon the beauteous scenery he so desperately wished to replicate in a permanent tribute. Yet he did not have the equipment, and the skies and seas were left to remain in his mind and memories forever.
Sometimes he liked to believe the world was his own, and he was a god amongst mortals. It was a petty belief, but a child with such an imagination as his was only bound to fantasise about power. Of course, he was never one for taking it, his fears of ruining the beauties that surrounded him far to great to push him to ambition, but the thoughts of others ruining it too were just as strong in his heart. He had a balance of fear and friendliness, though courage was seemingly nonexistent; he could only hope one day his bravery would show and he could maybe protect the earth he'd come to love. For all its flaws it was perfect, perhaps even more so than anything any deity could create, and it was for this reason and this reason alone that he could inhale, exhale and smile at the end of each day. The views were incredible, and even at this young age he could appreciate it more so than many, many adults. People just neglected the planet, forgot it was there, and settled to rot in their own little bubble forever. Well, his bubble had never been there; it had never been blown. And therefore, there was no chance of it popping. Sadness was not an option.
The five month old had been on his fourth moon of travelling when he first stumbled upon a border, and, inhaling curiously decided this was where a clan lived. He had heard of clans before, and had always wondered what it was like to live and serve in one. Of course, he was a free spirit, not bound by name nor love, but it would still be an experience to wander amongst others and brand himself a member of 'soandso'clan. Plus there seemed to be plenty of space to run, the plains open and beckoning to him; the blue-green eyed kitten smiled, just slightly, at his imagination. This was all based on the hope that this clan, if it was a clan, was friendly enough to let him in. The soft spoken male hoped so, and therefore stood on his tiptoes to call out in a gentle voice: "Hello? Is anybody out there?" his words were slightly rusty, him not being used to speaking, and he swallowed, then, to oil his dry throat. Come to think of it, he was terribly thirsty; the last few days had been dry days from where he'd hailed, and the lack of water had gotten to him. As he now thought about it, his vision had been quite fuzzy, his mind slow and steps far less determined than before. Perhaps he was weakening. He hoped he was alright.