As he wandered around blindly, his milky white eyes wide open, the clearing slowly dissolved, the earth disappearing around him. It crumbled, like the bones of a buried corpse. It fell, like an acorn from an oak tree, high in the sky.
Yet he remained oblivious. The creamy tom remained blind, never moving from his spot. He stayed there, in the crumbling clearing, oblivious of his supposed fate.
The ancestors watched from above, hopeless.
Their world was crumbling, and they couldn't do anything.
Kits, apprentices, warriors, queens, deputies, leaders, elders, and even leaders had all entered their ranks that day. And they couldn't stop the destruction.
But the old blind tom sat, no worry expressed. He might die that day, but the world would keep turning.
The cream tom sat, and closed his eyes in that moment, nothing of which to be afraid. For the world might be crumbling, but that tom was oblivious. He knew not what disasters, or what trials, lay ahead of him.
Because to the ancestors above him, he was just a blind old tom, sitting around, his haunches pressed against the ground calmly.
But to that blind old tom, his fate was his own to accept.
So, if he die today, so be it. If he lives today, so be it. His fate was the world's to control.
It didn't belong to him.
It belonged to the world. And without he world, there could be no fate. Without fate, there would be no life.
No twolegs, no mice, rabbits, minks, beavers, or anything. No Clans.
The world was held at a delicate balance, and to destroy that balance would be to destroy the earth, and every living creature on, and below, its surface.
So, if the world shall crumble on this day, then he will crumble with it.
And there he will be, with his family. His friends. He won't be lost, he will be found.
And to be found is to be loved.
To be loved is to be cared.
To be cared is the dream that every living being on the earth desires.
Whether it's the pink-skinned twolegs with their small kits, or the smallest mouse, with its mate, everyone deserves to have someone who cares for them.
The balance would never be broken. That's what the medicine cats believed. But here was the balance, dissolving, in front of the ancestors, the medicine cats.
That balance was gone.
And Chaos would erupt.
But that chaos was stoppable.
One tiny creature just had to utter the word, and the chaos would stop. The world would return to normal. The balance would be fixed.
Their home would return.
As the creamy tom thought of his life, his heart grew warm, unlike the cold stone ground upon which he perched.
His mother, the kittypet. His father, the rogue.
The impossible match.
A kittypet, a rogue, and a warrior. One would never think. But it happened.
His brother, the loner. His sister, the leader.
She was one of the cats who had entered StarClan that day.
He had been next to her when she had fallen.
YOU ARE READING
The World's End
ФанфикLeaping Willow can't see the destruction around him. He can sense it. Hearing, smelling. He can do that. But he can't see. But when everyone around him dies, he has to except his fate. Or does he?
