A.N
I made this originally with the thought of using
it for a prologue for a book I was going to do.
I don't know if I ever will do the book, so for now
it's just a short story. it features my two ocs,
honeysuckle and rattle. apologies if anything is
spelt wrong or there's random gaps in sentences, this
wasn't originally written in wattpad so there will
be mistakes and stuff.
Enjoy!
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Snow weighed down the branches above Honeysuckle. A crisp, fresh air was present but he couldn't swallow down the dread stealing his breath. He'd woken up knowing something was wrong. He could feel it like the way you could feel someone watching you.
His paws made a crunching sound as he broke through the thin layer of ice and hardened snow beneath him.
Honeysuckle sniffed the air, nose twitching. His nostrils felt frost—bitten by a simple deep breath in. His heart thudded, fur spiking as he could feel the presence of death waft around him. It was something he was used to, having been born with such powers, knowing he was walking upon the earth which held the grave of many before him, but it felt different, strange. It felt strong, frustrated, but he could sense a hint of relief in furious grasp.
Consciousness overpowered his trail of thoughts as he looked up from the ground. He felt like his paws were being tugged towards a greater unknown, somewhere he'd never ventured.
However he tried to push away his feeling of longing, he could not fight it much longer. There was a soul out there, in misery. There was a soul who was dead out there.
He let his subconscious guide him to where he needed to be, letting his limbs follow a path he could not see, but some part of him could. Some part of him knew that his help was needed beyond his home.
Honeysuckle felt the fur along his spine prickle as he was met with a thick fog. He was aware of this place, at the edge of his group's territory. Hardly anyone ever hunted here. The dreaded fog was prophesied to kill anyone who dared enter its empty mist.
He had not said anything since he left to find what was tugging his thoughts, but his throat still seemed to be choking on words he had not planned to ever say. He wanted to shout, scream, atleast hiss, but he couldn't muster up anything.
He scrunched up his eyes as he placed a paw infront of the other, slowly stepping out into the cold and frightening expanse infront of him.
Gushing wind surrounded him, freezing his body to the core. His slow stagger quickened to a steady pace as fear caught ahold of him.
He was almost going to turn tail and flee when the strong gale lessened to a slight breeze. The fog around him thinned out as he was met with a steep cliff, gutting out into an expance of water lasting for as long as the eye could see. A silhouette blocked the view of the horizon, so Honeysuckle opened his mouth slightly to breath in their scent.
This cat is certainly not the dead soul here. He thought, confused as to whether he arrived at the right place.
Then he caught a whiff of their scent. It was Rattle, his daughter.
He took a cautious step forward, watching her curiously.
"Rattle..?" His voice was raspy, as he didn't often talk to others, and it shook with nerves. "What are you doing here?"
Rattle flinched, turning around sharply. Her fur flattened from its bristled state and her shoulders drooped with relief at the sight of him. A part of Honeysuckle's heart leaped for joy at the thought of his child actually looking happy to see him, but he knew this was not the time. If one's eyes was a window to their soul, then Rattle's was weighed down with grief and guilt.
He padded gently over to her, sitting down by her side. He was careful not to brush his fur against hers, as he wasn't sure whether she'd want to be close to a father who basically neglected her all her childhood.
It was certainly a surprise when Rattle leaned against his shoulder. It was quite an awkward position, as Rattle was much taller than Honeysuckle, but she was hunched over so much she seemed short in comparison to him.
He was only a step away from falling off the cliff, as his paws were dangerously close to the edge. He tried nosing Rattle gently in the hope that she'd back away from the fatal fall before her, but she stayed put, her paws firmly planted into the ground. Despite her obvious desire to stay where she was, it seemed like she was frozen to the spot against her will. She continued to stare into the crashing waves before her, eyes round and pupils slitted in obvious terror. Her ears were laid flat against her head and there was a gash on her forehead, slowly seeping blood that ran down her face, but she made no attempt to brush it away.
He wanted to find words to comfort her, herbs to heal her, but he was always scared to approach her incase she pulled away or made a snide remark. That was always his excuse. He was too much of a coward to be a proper father, and now he can't take back the fact that he'd ignored his child all her life.
He knew what she thought of him. She thought he was weird, strange, an abnormality. He wasn't special to her, he didn't mean anything in her life, but he didn't expect anything less from her. He wouldn't mean anything if he never was anything.
She hated her name. He named her Rattle, after a prophecy he'd gotten many seasons ago. She thought he was trying to gain popularity or fame because his child was important. He knew it wasn't true, of course. When he looked at her, he just knew she had to be called Rattle. Yet she was special to him, prophecy or not, but he just didn't know how to show her.
Rattle's eyes were dull as she sighed, "I killed him.." she croaked, her voice quiet and stripped raw of all emotion.
Honeysuckle gazed at her, searching for any answers to his millions of questions by her emotion alone. "Im sure you didn't mean to.." he murmured, pressing his flank against hers. He didn't know who she was talking about, but he didn't want to press her on the subject just yet.
"He just.." she shut her eyes tight, as if she was trying to hide from the memories of whatever happened before Honeysuckle arrived. "Look," She pointed her muzzle over the edge of the cliff.
Honeysuckle gazed down at the murky depths of water below them. The base of the cliff was dotted with great spiky rocks, jutting out from the waves and ending in a sharp point.
His heart plummeted with terrified horror as he spotted the limp body of a cat handing off one of the spiked stones. Their stomach was mauled apart by the rock, their entrails hanging. Every once and a while a wave would crash over their broken body and stain the water a dark red.
Only once the water had cleaned most of the blood off their pelt did he recognise the fur of his groupmate.
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