Post by brushfire on Jun 15, 2011 22:06:49 GMT -5
Brushfire's eyes uttered a bright green glow on the walls of the Nursery as she padded in. "The RushClan cats seem nice... Echosong - I already knew her...," she thought aloud. "And the Rushnursery looks even better!"
Without making herself a leafy nest like she was used to in LeafClan, she flopped down on the moss that had already been there, layed down by Echosong for her. But she fell with a sickening thud. Brushfire cursed and jumped to her paws. The moss was hard to her. The thick, waxy leaves that were piled high on eachother in LeafClan was like the beds of kittypets, and the moss in DawnClan had been thicker than this.
Brushfire shrugged off her past. The only reminder she had of it was Echosong and her kits, who she was expecting anyday. Her and Echosong were two cats of forbidden friendship. She had not seen Echosong until now. And her kits were not from a loner, as she had told her new Clan, but from her old mate in LeafClan....
She shook Goosewhisker off her mind. She did not need him anymore. She did not need any Leaf or DawnClan cat. Not ShadowClan or Thunderclan or Mist or Forest. Not any BloodClan cat (she had visited there once, too, but for a short time) or Tribe of Falling Stars and their dreaded wolves. NoClan but her new and perminant Clan, RushClan. Right now, she did not even need StarClan. No StarClan cat could bless her more than this. Other than a softer bed. She'd kill for a softer bed. And some food. She arrived with water but not food.
She scoffed to herself and layed apon the thin moss, falling to sleep. But nothing could have prepared her for a flashback dream of why she left Leafclan in the first place...
It was midnight. The sky was on fire. The flames reached into the sky, pushing forth massive fists of smoke, swallowing everything in their path. Even the moon. The ground had turned to swamp. Burned ashen ground that had been drenched by the rains that preceded the fire. If only it had rained today. Brushfire choked back the smoke that burned her throat so badly it hurt breathe. Mud clung to her paws, causing her to stumble every few feet, but she forced herself to move on.
It was the end of the world. Of her world.
And she could hear the screams of ShadowClan and MistClan, mixed with gunshots and the unrelenting roar of flames. She could hear the twolegs shouting orders of murder.
"Burn down those leaves. Let the rebbles and their cats pay for turning against us, and the cats for killing our dogs! Burn it all!"
So that was what Hawkfeather meant when she said she lured the puppies away and 'played' with them...
And one by one, twolegs had lit the great caves of shadowy leaves of the dens of the Plain Cats' plantations ablaze, with their own kerosene-laden bed sheets and curtains. One by one, Brsuhfire watched the camps of her neighber Clans, her friends and enemies who did not seem all evil to her any more, surrender to the flames. And in the worst of circumstances, many of those friends and enemies surrendered as well, eaten alive in the flames in the very place they were born.
And that's why she was running into the smoke, toward the fire---right into the mouth of the beast.
She had to get to Greenbreir before the twolegs. And she didn't have much time. The twolegs were methodical, working their way down the Places of Clans starting from the Forest, burning the Clans one by one. They had already burnt the Forest and Lake; the Tribe of Rushing Water would be next, then the rest of the Plains and the Mountains, then the Valley. "General Sherman" and his "army" had started burning champaign hundreds of miles before they reached the Plains. They had burned the Lake, especially, to the ground, and continued marching east, burning everything in their path. When they reached the outskirts of the Plains the LeafClan leaves were still waving confederatly; the second wind they needed.
It was the smell that told Brushfire that she was too late.
Lemons.
The tart smell of lemons mixed with ash.
They were burning the lemon trees.
Brushfire loved lemons. So when her mate Goosewhisker and her older kits had visited to twolegplace far southwest, a week's journey, they had found some lemon trees and gathered seeds, enough seeds to fill up four bee hive baskets made by Scorchfire. Everycat said they would not grow, that cold nights and winters would kill them. But Brushfire did not listen. She planted those seeds along in the warmer ShadowClan camp, and with permission from the new leader, she visited them every winter and covered them with huge leaves and piled their roots with dirt to keep the moisture out. And those trees grew. They grew so well over the years, Goosewhisker and her kits had brought her even more.
They grew so well that other she-cats in differant Clans had started to pass the news on and it spread amoung the Places of Clans to she-cats everywhere, and some even asked their mates for some, and some even got seeds, but none could figure out how to keep them alive. The trees only seemed to flourish at Greenbreir, at Brushfire's care.
Nothing had ever been able to kill those trees. Until today.
Brushfire awoke with a start, hissing. It had turned night. She could not sleep. She had slept the whole day, and she did not want the dream to return. She promised herself she would never sleep again...
Without making herself a leafy nest like she was used to in LeafClan, she flopped down on the moss that had already been there, layed down by Echosong for her. But she fell with a sickening thud. Brushfire cursed and jumped to her paws. The moss was hard to her. The thick, waxy leaves that were piled high on eachother in LeafClan was like the beds of kittypets, and the moss in DawnClan had been thicker than this.
Brushfire shrugged off her past. The only reminder she had of it was Echosong and her kits, who she was expecting anyday. Her and Echosong were two cats of forbidden friendship. She had not seen Echosong until now. And her kits were not from a loner, as she had told her new Clan, but from her old mate in LeafClan....
She shook Goosewhisker off her mind. She did not need him anymore. She did not need any Leaf or DawnClan cat. Not ShadowClan or Thunderclan or Mist or Forest. Not any BloodClan cat (she had visited there once, too, but for a short time) or Tribe of Falling Stars and their dreaded wolves. NoClan but her new and perminant Clan, RushClan. Right now, she did not even need StarClan. No StarClan cat could bless her more than this. Other than a softer bed. She'd kill for a softer bed. And some food. She arrived with water but not food.
She scoffed to herself and layed apon the thin moss, falling to sleep. But nothing could have prepared her for a flashback dream of why she left Leafclan in the first place...
It was midnight. The sky was on fire. The flames reached into the sky, pushing forth massive fists of smoke, swallowing everything in their path. Even the moon. The ground had turned to swamp. Burned ashen ground that had been drenched by the rains that preceded the fire. If only it had rained today. Brushfire choked back the smoke that burned her throat so badly it hurt breathe. Mud clung to her paws, causing her to stumble every few feet, but she forced herself to move on.
It was the end of the world. Of her world.
And she could hear the screams of ShadowClan and MistClan, mixed with gunshots and the unrelenting roar of flames. She could hear the twolegs shouting orders of murder.
"Burn down those leaves. Let the rebbles and their cats pay for turning against us, and the cats for killing our dogs! Burn it all!"
So that was what Hawkfeather meant when she said she lured the puppies away and 'played' with them...
And one by one, twolegs had lit the great caves of shadowy leaves of the dens of the Plain Cats' plantations ablaze, with their own kerosene-laden bed sheets and curtains. One by one, Brsuhfire watched the camps of her neighber Clans, her friends and enemies who did not seem all evil to her any more, surrender to the flames. And in the worst of circumstances, many of those friends and enemies surrendered as well, eaten alive in the flames in the very place they were born.
And that's why she was running into the smoke, toward the fire---right into the mouth of the beast.
She had to get to Greenbreir before the twolegs. And she didn't have much time. The twolegs were methodical, working their way down the Places of Clans starting from the Forest, burning the Clans one by one. They had already burnt the Forest and Lake; the Tribe of Rushing Water would be next, then the rest of the Plains and the Mountains, then the Valley. "General Sherman" and his "army" had started burning champaign hundreds of miles before they reached the Plains. They had burned the Lake, especially, to the ground, and continued marching east, burning everything in their path. When they reached the outskirts of the Plains the LeafClan leaves were still waving confederatly; the second wind they needed.
It was the smell that told Brushfire that she was too late.
Lemons.
The tart smell of lemons mixed with ash.
They were burning the lemon trees.
Brushfire loved lemons. So when her mate Goosewhisker and her older kits had visited to twolegplace far southwest, a week's journey, they had found some lemon trees and gathered seeds, enough seeds to fill up four bee hive baskets made by Scorchfire. Everycat said they would not grow, that cold nights and winters would kill them. But Brushfire did not listen. She planted those seeds along in the warmer ShadowClan camp, and with permission from the new leader, she visited them every winter and covered them with huge leaves and piled their roots with dirt to keep the moisture out. And those trees grew. They grew so well over the years, Goosewhisker and her kits had brought her even more.
They grew so well that other she-cats in differant Clans had started to pass the news on and it spread amoung the Places of Clans to she-cats everywhere, and some even asked their mates for some, and some even got seeds, but none could figure out how to keep them alive. The trees only seemed to flourish at Greenbreir, at Brushfire's care.
Nothing had ever been able to kill those trees. Until today.
Brushfire awoke with a start, hissing. It had turned night. She could not sleep. She had slept the whole day, and she did not want the dream to return. She promised herself she would never sleep again...