APPLESTRIKE — he/him, 78 moons [ light brown tabby ]
A yes was offered and it made the old tom nod his head before he took the opportunity to ponder over the available tales he had stowed away in his mind. The library he possessed was vast thanks to his many moons of life, though it did make it somewhat hard to settle on just one. Fortunately a moment's respite came when Brackenleap arrived with a mouse just for him. "Ah, thank you, Brackenleap. Much appreciated." Eagerly he devoured half of the mouse which helped to wet his tongue and to steady his thoughts. Though during that time others had arrived and it earned a chuckle from Applestrike. "It seems that I have quite the audience now, aye. Well, I better make it a good 'inn."
The tom straightened himself up as he swept his gaze across each of the present cats in turn. "Let me tell ya a tale of a land far fae here, a place where my pa heralded fae before he reached the very forest we live in today. His name was Kestrel, he was a bold and brash fella, shot his mouth just as fast as he could let his claws fly. He was a fearsome scrapper who would pick a fight wee anyone who looked his way. Tough as a badger he was. But as invincible as he liked to believe he was... there was a beast loose in his moorland home, and it terrorised all that lived there.
You see, this monster was smarter than any fox, more vicious than any badger, and just as large as those filthy mongrels who attacked us those moons ago. It's teeth were long and sharp, with eyes that glowed gold in the night. It's pelt was as black as the shadows beneath yer very paws, and its eerie howl could be heard echoing across the hills. Each and every night it came and it became a savage gamble as to who it would claim. There was always a victim to its miiiiGHTY JAWS!" The tom roared as he whirled round on the listening crowd and gave a snap of his teeth to place emphasis on the heat of the moment within the tale. Gently he returned to his original seated position as he bore a broad grin of satisfaction. Now then, where was he?
"Again and again the morning's first light would reveal the beast's victims, and slowly the moor held less and less animals. The smarter and quicker ones fled of course, but not everyone could leave. For you see, my pa had a mate. Her name was Quail and she was with kits. Newborns who they could not carry with them to new territories beyond. They had a difficult choice ta make; save themselves and abandon their own children, or stand strong and endure. Kestrel and Quail refused ta leave. It was their hame, their family, and they were'nae gonna walk away fae it that easily.
Each night passed and they were untouched in their den, an ol' badger set beneath a gorse bush. But their luck soon enough ran out. There was no moon that night and the air held a tenseness to it. They could feel it with their whiskers; that tremble that let them know that their time had come. Claws began to tear at the entrance to the den and an immense snout would plunge in deep, armed with razor sharp teeth that craved the cats within. With no escape route they were surely doomed. Kestrel made his choice then and there, he would rather die fighting than die cowering. With a swipe of his claws he slashed across the monster's nose and it sent it reeling back.
With the opening clear he then bolted forth, slipping between the limbs of the beast before streaking off across the moor. The beast pursued him and was gaining fast. Kestrel knew that death was hounding at his heels, but that's when it happened. Lights, small and flickering illuminated a path ahead through the blinding darkness. Kestrel had never seen anything like it, and he found himself placing his very faith in them. He followed the lights towards a gorge. As he neared its edge the final light sank down slow as a way of revealing a hidden ledge. Kestrel leapt down onto it, but the beast didn't know that it was there and ended up making a mighty leap off of the edge thinking that its quarry was still ahead. Down, down, down it fell, swallowed up by the river below.
The beast was slain and Kestrel, Quail and their kits lived. Though never again did he see the strange lights that saved him. All that he told refused to believe him about the lights, but I believed him. I truly think someone or something was looking out for him that day. Faith can get ya a long way, that much is fer certain."
