Angelic-Shrimps

activity check for Owlfeather of Nara
500 words

tw: animal death, blood, trauma

It was a melancholic day.

Rain poured from above. Dark grey--almost black--clouds rolled along the sky, a distinct rumble in the beards of the nature’s fluffy creations. The rain had been pouring on Owlfeather for awhile now, and he couldn’t help but snarl a low growl of annoyance. Muttering curses under his breath, the tom forced himself out of camp to hunt. Not only was the rain bothering him, but his mind kept transitioning to past memories of his kithood.

    Owlfeather’s paws carried him over muddy earth. With narrowed eyes, the big tom crouched, his gaze fixating on a squirrel. He carefully balanced his tail off the ground, and he lowered his head as the rodent nibbled on an acorn. Claws unsheathing, he slowly made his way towards the bushy tail of the owner, curling his lips. His tail kinked as he crouched, and with a spring, the huge, fluffy cat propelled himself onto the squirrel. The squirrel, distracted by the growl of thunder from above, screamed in shock as the cat landed on its body. Owlfeather raised himself, pinning the mammal down with glinting claws. As he looked down upon the face of his prey, he froze from the sight of blood bubbling up at the squirrel’s body. He looked up, shakily, and he was suddenly back at his old den.

    Sloe’s body laid on the ground, covered in dirt, blood spilling from the she-cat’s jaw and throat. Her mouth was snapped open in a desperate attempt to let out a shrill scream of horror, and her eyes were glazed over with death. Owlfeather’s eyes widened at the sight, and he desperately scrambled back, his back meeting a tree stump. But, to Owlfeather’s vision, he stumbled into the front legs of his brother, Lavender. His gaze trailed over to his father, Hickory, whose claws were stained a dark red. Everything was silent.

    Owlfeather himself was silent. He said nothing. He didn’t have anything to say. He kept his jaw shut and soundless. His mind was blank and fuzzy. All he could hear was his tense breathing. All he could feel was the prickling sensation in his limbs.

    And he broke.

    Tears suddenly flowed down his cheeks as he stepped forward, loud cries and shrills escaping his maw. The spotted moggy froze in place as Hickory stepped towards him, and the traumatized tom raised his back in defense, fur prickling. Hickory’s eyes clouded over with grief and shame, and the moment he opened his muzzle to talk, nothing but the earth-shaking rumble of thunder came out.

     Owlfeather snapped back to reality. The sound of thunder rolled into the present, and he looked up, only to flinch at the blinding flash of lightning. Dazed and in a trance, the fluffy tom looked down at his prey, which was.. Gone? He shook his head and scanned the area, but no trace of the squirrel was found. As he stood there, dumbfound, he could’ve sworn he saw his father’s claws instead of his.