Post by //MoonShadow\\ on Mar 26, 2008 12:58:15 GMT -8
It would be hard to imagine a more perfect day. The willows standing guard by the riverbank sway gently in the breeze, while the river that gave your Clan it's name is gurgling merrily as its clear waters flow over the smooth brown stones that line the bottom of the streambed. The sky is a brilliant shade of peathingy feather blue, and is dotted with puffy white clouds which drift lazily across its colbalt expanse. The grass is tall and lush, and feels good beneath bare paws. All seems well.
Then, suddenly, the gentle breeze starts gaining in intenstity until it is a howling gale, stripping the willows of their tiny, teardrop shaped leaves and tearing up the soft, cool grass. The sky darkens until it is black as a raven's feather, and the puffy clouds swell and become an angry red color. A storm is coming, but not like any storm any normal cat has ever seen.
The crimson clouds finally can't hold any more precipitation, and so unleash their wrath upon the scene below. However, instead of dropping the usual rain, scarlet droplets fall from the skies. That's right - it's raining blood.
The blood stains everything - it soaks into the ground, flows in rivulets off the willow trees, and causes the river to blaze a deep red. The stench of carrion fills the air, and most cats would swear they were able to hear the sounds of desperate yowls and blood-curdling shrieks of pain through the howling wind. There is only one object seemingly not affected by the raging storm - a small white she-cat standing almost directly in front of you.
"Hello," She mews, her ice blue eyes pools of sorrow, "My name is SnowFeather. I have a message for you." The cat takes a deep breath and begins:
The Forest Of Blood!
The days turn into complete darkness.
No one is safe while one clan thrives.
They battle it out in the forest of blood.
Cats within clans become restless with eachother.
Who can any cat turn to?
Four cats will rise above all others.
Two sisters and two brothers.
Seperated at birth, they must find each other.
They will bring balance to the forest once more.
As long as they are not swayed to the Forest of Blood.
Tempers will rise.
Battles will never end.
Clans will turn against each other.
Who will Win?
Who will Lose?
It is up to the Chosen Ones!
Then, suddenly, the gentle breeze starts gaining in intenstity until it is a howling gale, stripping the willows of their tiny, teardrop shaped leaves and tearing up the soft, cool grass. The sky darkens until it is black as a raven's feather, and the puffy clouds swell and become an angry red color. A storm is coming, but not like any storm any normal cat has ever seen.
The crimson clouds finally can't hold any more precipitation, and so unleash their wrath upon the scene below. However, instead of dropping the usual rain, scarlet droplets fall from the skies. That's right - it's raining blood.
The blood stains everything - it soaks into the ground, flows in rivulets off the willow trees, and causes the river to blaze a deep red. The stench of carrion fills the air, and most cats would swear they were able to hear the sounds of desperate yowls and blood-curdling shrieks of pain through the howling wind. There is only one object seemingly not affected by the raging storm - a small white she-cat standing almost directly in front of you.
"Hello," She mews, her ice blue eyes pools of sorrow, "My name is SnowFeather. I have a message for you." The cat takes a deep breath and begins:
The Forest Of Blood!
The days turn into complete darkness.
No one is safe while one clan thrives.
They battle it out in the forest of blood.
Cats within clans become restless with eachother.
Who can any cat turn to?
Four cats will rise above all others.
Two sisters and two brothers.
Seperated at birth, they must find each other.
They will bring balance to the forest once more.
As long as they are not swayed to the Forest of Blood.
Tempers will rise.
Battles will never end.
Clans will turn against each other.
Who will Win?
Who will Lose?
It is up to the Chosen Ones!
