Post by dylan on Feb 22, 2022 6:43:26 GMT
Wind ripped across the desolate moors, whistling as it cascaded up and down the gentle, sweeping hills. As Oak pushed forward against the growling gale, his shaggy coat, brown as tree bark and usually fluffy as a cloud, was glued to his skin by the sheer force of the squall. This had the unfortunate effect of making Oak appear tiny and vulnerable; he was a small cat who relied on his fur to magnify his apparent size and strength. He wasn't one to seek out fights, and he couldn't help but feel anxious that he was about to be ambushed by a stronger foe, currently stalking him from the surrounding tall ferns and grasses, rustling wildly to add to nature's cacophony blaring around him.
Oak knew his only choice was to keep pushing forward on the path, a winding ravine cutting through the infinite grassy walls, beyond which anything could roam. Although they offered shelter from the wind, they also housed a labyrinth of mysterious dangers. He couldn't risk straying across trouble, as escape would certainly be impossible. Shuddering at the thought of meeting his demise beyond those swaying towers, he pressed on. Fear was an emotion he could not afford to overtake his thoughts; too much was at stake.
He could only hope that the darkness would obscure him from the view of any potentially predatory adversaries. Oak peered intently at the night sky, eyes narrowing out of frustration at the realization that the moon was full tonight, meaning that surely he'd be visible to anybody nearby. At the sight of the glowing white orb lighting the sky, a wave of deja vu washed over him.
"Call me Oak," he'd whispered to his sister, Kestrelwing, on the night of their promotion to warriors by their parents. Despite the Clans having been gone for many moons, longer than any cat today had been alive, their parents had been committed fully to honoring the tradition of the warriors, all because their mother allegedly had a distant ancestor who walked among the Clans of long ago, who had survived the attack on the Clans by the horde of dogs. His entire family believed that the Clans had to be rebuilt, but Oak wasn't as sure. He had never been convinced that dogs were the true cause for the Clans' demise. Much to the disgust of his parents, he had a sneaky suspicion that the Clans themselves were to blame for their downfall. His father had abused him under the guise of advanced training, but Oak was well aware that he was set on converting Oak to believing in the Clans' importance, and would go to any lengths to achieve that. Oak had known he'd need to run away at his first opportunity.
It was on that night of the vigil that he would make his escape. His sister had understood, promising not to give him away to their parents. Oak worried about his sister, and how their parents treated her after he'd left. At the same time, he knew as soon as he'd left their camp that he had to defend himself above all else. As he'd set out alone, ready to begin the next chapter of his life, he'd gazed at the sky, hoping that this sky would look over him, and protect him in his journey. It had been a clear night, countless stars speckling the sky as though they'd all heard of his plan to escape, and had come to see him off. Glowing brighter than any one star was the full moon, illuminating the path ahead of him. This path would take Oak where he needed to go, and he left the camp confident that better days would come.
It had been a full moon since that fateful day. Since then, he'd passed through a great swathe of moorland, never staying in the same place for more than a night or two for fear of his parents patrolling the area in search of him. He'd come across several cats, some hostile, but fortunately most had been more or less indifferent to his presence. Always suspicious of others, he'd never spent more than a passing conversation with one of the fellow travelers. However, for as guarded as he was, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of loneliness. When he was younger, he'd always had Kestrelwing to spend time to, and they'd known each other better than anyone else. Ever since he'd left, however, there was a void in his heart. He didn't truly care about anybody currently in his life.
But he knew he couldn't worry about this right now. He had to keep pushing through the wind in search of proper shelter. Companionship would have to wait, and would only lower his guard. As much as his heart might yearn, it simply wasn't an option. As he fought with these clashing emotions of loneliness and self-defense, he couldn't help but fear that, although the sky was clear for the moment, this brutal wind was a sign of storms to come.
