Stormpelt's Struggle

Part Four

[gore mentions]

Screeches echoed through the air, the sound of cats fighting. Blood splattered from open wounds and fell to the ground. The forest around him was full of dark evergreens, looming ominously above him as the felines fought cruelly. Claws slashed through flesh, and a crimson puddle appeared in front of him.

Glaring down into the puddle, he saw the image of a crazed feline with a face criss-crossed with scars, both ears slashed with a deep v-shape in them. Staring right back up at him with a wicked snarl was himself.

This isn't me...

This isn't me!

Storm woke with a gasp, frantically uprighting himself so his belly wasn't exposed. He arched his back, claws unsheathed and ears flat against his head as he faced the entrance to the den where he and his family slept.

The kits were each 8 months able, perfectly able to fend for themselves. Finn and Storm had learned how to hunt by themselves due to the serious lack of attention from their mother, who always seemed to be getting sicker and sicker by the days...

Since his father's burial, Flurry was less active, and Storm feared that she would part from her family and join Mitch under the earth.

Pricking his ears, he heard nothing. Storm saw nothing, either. It was still almost night, he was snoozing during the day and apparently his littermates had joined them.

He sighed in relief, dropping to his side and snuggling near his brother as the fierce wind began to kick up, whipping flurries of snow over the already deep snow from before. This wasn't good. Storm shivered against the cold, huddling up next to Finn, his brown tabby brother who was identical to his father in all ways but his personality.

Storm dismissed his thoughts and fell back asleep, trying to ignore the biting and freezing feeling whipping at him through the roots of his semi-underground den.

•

Running.

That was all Alaska did now, trapped like a rat in a cage. Running from a stronger force along with her suffering brother. She couldn't tell which. Terror flooded through her veins. Alaska knew that this would be the only feeling she could feel now, for the rest of her life.

She needed to leave, but leave what? How?

The wind seemed to howl in rage now, violently whipping in the den's direction, nipping at her fur. Alaska stood up on all fours, not bothering to stretch as she stared into the blank stretch of the blizzard in front of her.

Leaving the comfort of her furry companions didn't bother her, because now, she seemed warmer than ever.

"Goodbye, Storm. You can get through what is coming," she whispered to herself, looking at the sleeping grey-patterned tom.

"Finn." was all Alaska said in farewell to her other brother, whose paws were twitching in his sleep.

A small scratch sounded behind her and Alaska turned her head expressionlessly as her mother, Flurry, looked at her with love in her eyes.

"Goodbye, my love. I've been dreaming, unfortunately." was Flurry's last response before she sank back into her nest and immediately fell asleep with a pained wince.

Alaska didn't give any signal that she noticed. Outside, it was so warm... Slowly, she took a stride outside, the protection of her den stripped from her as she was exposed to the bare wilderness.

It seeped through her bones, the strange feeling. Her legs and paws went numb as she blindly ventured into snow as deep as her shoulders, not a sound around her but the hiss of wind.

Alaska opened her eyes. The icy clarity of the world was as sharp as razors now, but even the most beautiful things could be deadly, she knew.

Her cream colored legs buckled beneath her and Alaska stumbled before collapsing to the ground with a shuddering breath, releasing a plume of breath around her.

It swirled in front of her face, flashing before fading into nothing. Now, Alaska couldn't feel any cold, just the cozy warmth that she never had. Perhaps nobody knew much about her, but what was there to know? This was her destiny, her horrible but certain fate.

She stared into the snow for some peaceful moments before the world slowly went blurry, and her vision stopped. All she saw was black.

Alaska took a deep breath, holding it and cradling it in her chest before releasing it, unable to see her breath in the air this time.

It was her last breath before she settled into a long, long, sleep.