[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; margin-bottom: -2px; letter-spacing: 4px; text-align: left;]A memory so bittersweet[/fancypost]
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Sandpaw
[abbr=Sandpaw, 11 moons, Medium]☉[/abbr] ☉ [abbr=Reincarnation of Brownpaw, NPCxNPC]☉[/abbr]
#gcdepsand
It was an unusually warm day for winter, and Sandpaw padded into Glitteringclan's camp with a large rabbit clutched in his jaws, he walked proudly, though as he spotted a few NPCs, he toned town his showoff-yness. Continuing along, the mackerel tabby deposited his catch on a small pile near the cabin, before turning to face the well trod circle of earth on which he an his clanmates spent so much time. Today had been a normal day, except for the warm weather, and not too interesting, though he had caught quite a large rabbit. However, something Sandpaw would never have been able to predict, something he didn't expect, that he had never even thought existed, was about to happen.
He began to pad across the clearing, trying to decide if he should go back out and hunt, or see if he could find any of the other apprentices to talk to. Perhaps Cloudpaw would be interested in coming along on the hunt? When he was about halfway across the clearing, that's when it hit him. It was like a blinding pain, and he tensed up, his eyes flying shut, yet there was no pain at all. It was dark, and then it was light again.
"Hurry up, slowpoke!" A very young cat, who looked like he had just been apprenticed stood in front of him, speaking in a teasing voice. A happy grin rested on the other tom's features, and Sandpaw smiled back. The other tom turned around, and raced forward. Instinctively, almost without meaning to, Sandpaw raced after him, paws flying. The ground beneath then was hard packed, just liked in Glitteringclan, but a certain coolness hung in the air. Strange, the prairie was usually quite dry. They were at the edge of camp now. Padding through a tunnel, which he certainly did not remember being there, they stepped out into a cool forest.
Wait a minute, a forest?! Eyes flying open, Sandpaw staggered right, doing all he could to keep his balance. But he was back in Glitteringclan's camp. There was no forest, no tunnel, no tom. Who was that tom anyway? But he had no more time to wonder as he was dragged into another vision.
A powerfully built tom stood on a high rock, facing his clan, his features grim set. "As you know, our warrior, Floweringheart, died recently. But her death will not be in vane. Those fools think they can take our territory and kill out warriors, but they are wrong!" The last word, wrong, came out in an angry snarl, and the tom's speech was met with cheers and shouts, and Sandpaw looked around in confusion. Who was taking there territory? and who was Floweringheart? But before he could even finished the thought, the scenery changed. Yowls sounded all around him, and angry snarls filled the air. Sandpaw stood, frozen, as a pair of huge cats moved by, caught up in a vicious tussle. His claws slid in an out, and nerves racked his body. All these cats were huge! How was he supposed to fight? "Sandpaw, look out!" He immediately recognized the voice of the young apprentice he had seen before, but his voice was ever so slightly deeper, and he called in desperation. Turning to face the voice, Sandpaw saw a huge she-cat come at him, claws glinting, and her eyes filled with malice. Frozen in place, Sandpaw barely managed to react in time, ducking underneath the warrior. Whipping around, he saw her skid to a halt, claws digging into the soft earth. "Come here little kitty kitty" she said in a taunting voice, turning to face him. "Time to die!" With an angry screech she ran at Sandpaw, claws flying. Sandpaw dodged to the left, but she was already reacting to his move, and reached out a paw, smacking him right in the chest. Staggering back, a searing pain shot through him, and he struggled to breath after had the wind knocked out of him. By the time he had regained his breath she was back, and coming at him, this time from the side. Tensing his muscles, the tom shot straight up, into the air, landing on the she-cat's back. Flipping around, she attempted to shake the apprentice off as he sunk his teeth into the back of her neck, biting down hard to get through her thick pelt. With an angry snarl, she slammed up against a tree to detach him. Little bits of fur dislodge from her back as his claws were ripped from her pelt. They fluttered through the air as if time had slowed, and the tom turned his head as it slammed against the tree. Sliding down the trunk, he caught sight of two cats, locked in battle. He recognized one, and he knew that they were a relative, though he couldn't explain how he knew. Sandpaw watched the two toms, one was his father, the other an unknown enemy, locked in battle. A scream like sound cut through the air, and suddenly his father was pinned, struggling with tremendous force as he attempted to throw off his attacker. But the enemy tom was already closing in, and he raised a long, sharp claw, before bringing it down on his fathers throat. Sandpaw watched in despair as blood spattered across the once green grass, and life left his parent. Then time seemed to speed up, and he felt the body of the she-cat collide with his own, slamming his head back, against a tree, and the world went black.
Sandpaw wanted to scream. He was no longer on his feet, instead huddled in agony on the ground. But as warm sun hit his back, he realized he was once again in Glitteringclan. What was happening? Shaking slightly, the apprentice opened one sandy eye, then the other. Cats were beginning to stare. Though he didn't know it, they were wondering why this tom, who was standing moments before, had suddenly staggered to the side and fallen. It had been almost hours in Sandpaws mind, but only seconds in reality. He felt like he was weighed down, like he even now carried fresh battle wounds, and he only began to look down at his own chest, as if he might see bloody claw marks where the she-cat had hit him in full force, before he was plunged back into darkness.
He lay in a cool den, his body aching. One leg was in a cast, though he didn't know why. Surely this was just after the battle, had his leg really been broken? But he felt older, and, looking down, his paws were darker. Freaking out slightly, he tried to scramble back, as if to get away from the foreign paws he saw, but a jet of pain shot through him, and he was forced to lay back down. Surely it was only a trick of the light? Trying to reassure himself this was true, he heard pawsteps, and soon someone entered the den. He did not recognize the tom, but he forced himself to stay calm. Had he been captured, and was now in the enemy camp? But the cat spoke with a worried fondness, that an enemy would never speak with. "Brownpaw?" He said a name, a name that was not Sandpaw's, but yet he looked directly into Sandpaw's eyes. What was going on? The tom was dark furred, his eyes showed years of pain, but there was fondness, which could only be directed at Sandpaw himself. He had a set of scars across his throat, which could only have been made by claws. Then time seemed to go into hyper mode. Images flew by. He was outside, he could walk. He stood in front of a rock, listening to a foreign voice he could not make out. Then it slowed, and he was sitting in the unknown camp. A tremendous booming, and an ear bursting explosion. Suddenly there was fire, screaming. "This way!" Someone called through the smoke he saw the same tom with the scars on his throat, a few other cats. They were moving out of came, the forest was on fire. There was smoke everywhere, when suddenly a cat became visible in front of him. She faced him, and he only saw her for a moment, a pure black she-cat, with a white marking on her chest.
Then it was over. Sandpaw gasped her breath, and he eyes flew open, but this time he was met with fresh air, not the dense, smokey atmosphere of the nightmarish world he had just left. Coughing to clear imaginary smoke form his lungs, it was a long moment before the tabby could stand. He shook where he stood, unable to move any further, his mind frozen on what had just happened. It was like it had been real, completely real. He had felt, heard, and scented everything. Yet, it couldn't be real, could it? He was a light colored tabby, not brown, and his name was Sandpaw. He had certainly not seen his father die in battle. Right? These thoughts replayed in his head, over and over again. He kept perfectly still, not even able to take a step.
(I didn't plan on having him see that much, but I really wanted to have him see the bit about the explosion so.. yeah 
.)
