- Jul 20, 2022
- 160
- 19
- 18
LOOK TO THE RISING SUN
AND RUN, RUN, RUN
AND RUN, RUN, RUN
More than once since getting out, Dusk found himself wondering if he'd managed to escape one hell just to die in another. It had been a little over a month since he'd managed to escape into the streets of twoleg place, finally free from that prison of hunger and stench and death. The smell still clung to his fur weeks later, and he'd managed to turn almost every head in two-leg place, cat and upwalker alike. He didn't blame them- not really. While some of the strays were thin from hard living, even they had stopped to stare in horror in those first few weeks of joining them on the streets. His fur had been matted and filthy, dull against his body. He was sickeningly thin, every bone his body jutting out and pulling skin taut. A walking skeleton, that's what he'd been.
A little over a month later and he still hadn't managed to reach a proper weight. While he was no longer an inch from deaths doorstep, he was still too thin for a cat of his size. Any muscle that had managed to build up was lean and while his fur was no longer matted and dirty it was dull and unkept. He'd left twoleg place behind in favor of wanddering the lands beyond, tired of the looks and the anxiety that came with being around so many cats and twolegs. It was harder to find food, but it was quieter and less stressful, and he was slowly getting the hang of things.
At this rate, Dusk was confident he could survive. He'd get better at catching food and put on weight and eventually he'd get to a point where he was able to properly sustain himself. But was that all life had for him now? No longer caged and suffering, the tom was now free but lost on an emotional and mental level. He had no idea what cats did out here, had no clue what they did to vill the void he felt.
And so he just kept on going, hoping he would stumble across the answer somewhere out here one day.
A little over a month later and he still hadn't managed to reach a proper weight. While he was no longer an inch from deaths doorstep, he was still too thin for a cat of his size. Any muscle that had managed to build up was lean and while his fur was no longer matted and dirty it was dull and unkept. He'd left twoleg place behind in favor of wanddering the lands beyond, tired of the looks and the anxiety that came with being around so many cats and twolegs. It was harder to find food, but it was quieter and less stressful, and he was slowly getting the hang of things.
At this rate, Dusk was confident he could survive. He'd get better at catching food and put on weight and eventually he'd get to a point where he was able to properly sustain himself. But was that all life had for him now? No longer caged and suffering, the tom was now free but lost on an emotional and mental level. He had no idea what cats did out here, had no clue what they did to vill the void he felt.
And so he just kept on going, hoping he would stumble across the answer somewhere out here one day.
windclan warrior - male - 17 months - homosexual - polyamorous - single - bengal