23 is a strange name for a cat, most would agree, in fact, its hardly a name at all, just a serialization that marks the fact that there are many cats like that one, that this cat is a generality. But then again, test subjects hardly ever receive names. But 23 wasn't thinking about such a topic, at least she wouldn't be if she remembered it, as she was padding slowly across the terrain with a sickly lope, her body skin and bones while her fir patchy. She was malnourished, lost and confused in the world around her, and it only made it worse that she couldn't smell a thing, almost blinding her to dangers and necessities around her. However, it was when she came across a gate, large and looming over her, surrounding what seemed to be...a mansion? That she felt hope, even just a bit, for the promise of mice and shelter beckoned her to slip her then and ragged body through the gates and into the overgrown brush of a garden. Had she been able to smell the flowers, she may have stopped to enjoy them.
How utterly strange it was,though, that the world seemed so new and unfamiliar to her, the feeling of grass beneath her paws foreign, the vastness of it all, if only she could recall the memories hiding within her aching mind tat perhaps she would no why she didn't know the sights around her but every time she tried to call forth a memory, she was greeted with nothing but white in her mind and the wailing of another cat. she sighs, her tail curling in slight frustration at her plight before straightening at the sound of a approaching entity. Her fur stands up and she waits, wondering what she should do, and if she had just tresspassed into another's land. Damn her scentless nose.
Posts by fairyflossist
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The hair on her back sprung up and she crouched down, eyes dilating in nervous curiosity. "J-join? Join what?' Her voice was a tad rough from lack of use...she didn't even recognize it. 23 looked the two over, tail flicking a bit. "Can you tell me where I am?" She asked, starting to relax the defensive pose, but her body still sat taut and uncomfortable, the dog's presence making her instinctively wary. The giggle from the other had her ears perk up nervously, and she shifts on her paws. Through the sleekness of her fur, her ribs were visible, and her body seemed exhausted. Though these two seemed nice enough, she feels an off feeling about them.
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"SanctumClan?" She looked about, how strange. 23 would shive a bit, "Whats that?" She asks, her voice trembling a bit.
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"What would joining do?" she asked, tilting her head.
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For Wanderer, the world was a myriad of smells and sound, different pulses in the brush and the feeling her whisker's picked up when something was near enough. Being blind had never been that terrible of a disability for the grey tabby. Even now she was stalking a mouse, one with heavy steps and slow pace just outside what smelled like a clan. Wanderer, about 9 moons old, knew very well to stay from those territories, at least, she did until the mouse ran it's little paws over the border. She sighed, 'That mouse was fat too...it...it couldn't hurt if I just quickly get it and get out...its not like i'll be caught.' She thinks, setting her eight to her hunches so her steps would silence, her paws cautiously stepping over the border, tracking the mouse, listening and hoping no one would approach. When she hears the rodent stop, Wanderer mimics, stalking up on it, she listens for it's movements, hearing it chew on what might be a seed or nut, she pounces on it finally, joyous about her kill. This joy, however, is short lived when she hears paws rustling in the brush.
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The young she-cat stopped suddenly, rethinking her thoughts from only moments ago and reconsidering the fact that she was just find and never had any trouble being unable to see. She had though herself to be on a rocky path in a forest, and she had thought this had been a border as the smell of multiple cats was concentrated here, she stiffens, was she really so close to the two-leg dwellings? Bothered by the fact that the scent of two-legs was undetected save fr the very slight scent approaching her now, Bloodclan cats, no doubt, she is frozen. Bloodclan, from what she had heard was unpredictable, and their presence slightly unnerved her. Wanderer felt utterly lost for the moment, she had thought she was near Shadowclan. This incident had not happened before.
A voice, rhythmic and strange graces her ears just after it's scent becomes heavy in her nose and her fur stands a bit, but the irritation from her disorientation is more prominent then her nervousness when his tease finally registers to her. She sits down, wanting to be able to feel the vibrations more clearly to gauge how far he was or how near. "I think not," The world was not totally black to her, though the clouds in her eyes were severe, it was a mural of blurs and movements that were often so distorted, the world might as well have been completely black to her. "I think I will do just find keeping my eyes," She says. His voice, to her, like a snake slithering slickly through her ears and rising an intrusive shiver up her spine. Wanderer recognizes a second cat then, who has yet to speak, their vibrations softer than the other.
His question come soon there after and her ears perk from the smaller cat, to the larger once more, eyes dazed, unfocusing. "I am simply wandering," She says, findng no better phrase to describe what she was doing, knowing that the words she used were a tad cheesy. "Ive no home to settle, I sleep where my body makes me and go where the scents and movements take me, today i've come here,"Her tail flicks a bit as she focuses on the two, waiting for a sudden movement that would indicate attack, but all she received was the young voice of the other, finally speaking up. The little one's scent was similar to the larger, indicating relation, its strength telling her that the large was either his father or his brother. His question was innocent, blunt and observant, so the black cat who was slender and sleek replies simply, ""I am blind, " Though she wondered if the kit had understood what his fellow cat had said to her moments earlier.
// SORRY SHES SO UNDER DEVELOPED!!! YOU BOTH HAVE SUCH WELL THOUGHT OUT CHARACTERS AND I JUST JUMPED IN!!
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The black she-cat tilted her head, another presence sends vibrations through the ground and attracts her attention, making her a little more on edge. She stands finally, her tail flicking but up in respect, for if one of them should attack it would be quite messy,, not to say she was a bad fighter, but anyone, blind or not, would be greatly troubled by three BloodClan cats, even when one was a kit. She twitched her whiskers, listening to the tom with slight interest. "I don't know why you would care, honestly, but if you must know, I have been told I am well versed in stealth, and can be quite quick despite my problem..." She mutters, recalling, though, one time she had ran into a tree in a running panic.
Wanderer's ear twitches when she hears a bird take flight in the distance, her sensitive hearing relaying her so much information. She could hear their fur rustle as they breathed, their paws move ever so slight, the with that their tails provided, and their scent told her their genes and dwellings, she knew more about them than she would had she seen him, and to her that was a blessing in this curse.
"What makes you speak to a wayfaring stranger such as myself? Curiosity? Boredom?" -
Wanderer hears the kit approach, her fur fluffing a bit in caution and her ears flattening a little, wondering just what the little one was doing. The feeling of smaller paws against her thin body makes her jump in surprise, her bones rigid, ready to strike should he be attacking, but she doubted such a thing, when his scent gets stronger, and she feels his own whispers brush hers, then his face. She could all but see what color he was in that moment, his construction becoming more and more apparent to her. The little one speaks, and she relaxes finally, a slight laugh and a nod comes from her, "I've never heard it like that,...but yes, I am basically missing my eyes, though I doubt they're in the sky..." She replies to him, her tail lowered now and a slow blink tells the three that she no longer sees them as an imminent threat, though her stance still stays composed. It is the older tom that gets her attention next, an inquiry of her name. "I am called Wanderer, but you may call me what you like, respectfully of course. And you?" She asked, tilting her head, her face in his direction but her eyes sightly towards the sky.
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"Quite the mouthful, do I have to refer to you as such?" the young cat says in response to his name, her tail flicking as the kittens bombard her. Their comments make her wonder what she looks like as they oo and ahh over her clouded eyes. She would 'look' around, turning her head to get a rand of smells and sounds, she picks up a squirrel skittering in the distance, the thump of a deer's hooves further into the woods where the smell of pine and maple mixed and became heavy. Wanderer sits for a moment more, the two' kits brushing against her whiskers and making her twitch a bit as her senses began to overload a little.
Wanderer brings her paw up, aiming to pat Omen lightly on the head to calm him and get him from her face so she could think, when Sheogorath speaks to her. Stay? She had never stayed before, not anywhere, she didn't know the first thing about clan life, though she was told that she was young enough to still be an apprentice. Did they d that the same in Bloodclan? She knew they could be quite different. "What would be the benefit of doing so?" Asked the black she cat, walking a couple steps towards him to get a better 'look' of him. -
The she cat sat for a moment, thought running through her head as she was told what to expect, but of course, this was quite a bias group of endorsements. But then again, what had she to lose? Should she find herself in dismay, she could always just simply leave again, if the tom didn't murder her first. Food, shelter, protection....but would they really accept her? A clan as ruthless as this letting in some blind rogue, one who was a little rough and obviously not in absolute control of her ailment. Wanderer ears twitched a bit and she thought a moment longer, hearing the kits try to reason with her, she wondered if they knew that this was a real situation, should she stay, it determined her lifestyle for quite a whie, if she left them now...well, she wondered how the tom before her would react. Would he be crossed and try to make her regret rejection? She asks him, "And what if i don't? Would I leave here today in one piece?"
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Abandonment isn't an uncommon occurrence, surely many cats would be able to confess to their ignorance toward's their mother's motives or faces, but it was a tad strange for a street cat to leave a kit near feral clan, especially when the kit was about 1 1/2 moons old and quite able to understand the situation. Even stranger that this kit was white as snow and had not a spec of color, skin pink and eyes tinted the same, the sun irritating her. "Mama?" She called into the brush, the mewl like a bird's cry, as the small kit tries not to believe in what had happened even though the tabby that was her mother had dissipated into the woods hours ago, leaving her hungry, alone, and exposed to new world.
She toddles, her small tail stuck straight up as she mews again, not thinking about the possibility of her voice attracting something different to her ears flick as gnats and mosquitoes nip and tease her small wailing form, misery setting into the scrawny, ugly little thing. She waddles about, sniffing the air, only to find the faint smell of her mother's scent to being fading away already, the scent of running water snuffing it out and bleeding into her nose heavily, with it, the scent of many cats, which makes her fur stand up.
It is the sound of reeds being parted that makes her jump in fear as she hears something near her at a moderate pace. 'Hide, I've got to hide,' the kit reasons to herself, feeling regret for her loud calls as she dives to cover herself in a patch of grass. Unbeknownst to her, her fur sticks out like a patch of snow in the summer green grass. -
Frightend beyond belief, the kit's fir stands on end and she stares up at him with pink tinted eyes, her back arching in an almost funny act of defense, he ears back, "Im not lost!" the kit quips, "Im a big cat, im not lost!" Though it was painfully obvious that the kit was helplessly lost and hadn't a clue of the world around her. She retreats backwards a bit in nervousness, hoping her bark would not lead the cat to test her bite- for lack of better words. Her stomach complains, hungry as can be and stress, she licks her lip and flicks her little tail to and fro.