Post by Warp and Littleflame on May 21, 2006 15:52:36 GMT -5
||I started this Fanfic several months ago,but I never got past the first chapter,which was pretty small at that. So,maybe y'all could review it and tell me if it's worth finishing. I have a rough-draft of the Clans and Prophecy which I might post later on......||
The sun was just setting by the time he returned home after another day of searching in vain for a hospitable Clan. Shoulders sagged, whiskers drooped, and his whole demeanor looked dejected. Ducking his head, he pushed through the ‘kitty door’ of his Two-legs’ nest. Now he was in the room where Two-legs prepared food. Lo and behold, there stood the She-leg, and he could tell by the grinding noise and her hand motions that she was opening a can of tuna. In normal conditions, tuna would be delicious, but Two-legs were masters at giving everything a metallic taste, then attempting to cover it with white glop called ‘mayo’.
Sighing, the tom obediently ate out of the bright blue dish she set on the floor. As he went for the water bowl to wash down the unpleasant morsels, he was scooped up and carried into another room, one where Two-legs watch flashing pictures that come out of an oddly-shaped box. The doorbell rang, and the She-leg dumped him on the sofa and rushed to answer it.
The tom shook himself indignantly and leapt up onto a wide windowsill, where he could view the world outside and wish he was a part of it. His reflection showed light fur with dark points, hinting at Siamese heritage. Light blue eyes blinked thoughtfully, and a long tail flicked at his side. As for his name, he had two. The more frequently used, and more disliked by himself, was ____. He preferred one that he thought suited him better, Gravity.
Another person, this time what Gravity referred to as a Tom-leg, chatted with the She-leg inside the doorway for a few minutes. Then the She-leg nodded, grabbed a lumpy brown bag hanging on a wall-hook, and disappeared out the door with the Tom-leg. Gravity watched them get inside a bright red monster and roar off before he stood and slid off the sill. Being left to his own devices often, he had already learned to tell how long his Two-leg would be gone. The Tom-leg and the bag, called a ‘purse’, meant that she was going on a ‘date’, and wouldn’t be back until the first stars began to shine. Which gave him about four more hours to continue his search. Ignoring the ache in his shoulders, Gravity slid back through the kitty door to the unbearably small backyard, where he easily launched himself over the white fence. If he hurried, he could make it to the lake, where a small group called PondClan made their home.
The sun was just setting by the time he returned home after another day of searching in vain for a hospitable Clan. Shoulders sagged, whiskers drooped, and his whole demeanor looked dejected. Ducking his head, he pushed through the ‘kitty door’ of his Two-legs’ nest. Now he was in the room where Two-legs prepared food. Lo and behold, there stood the She-leg, and he could tell by the grinding noise and her hand motions that she was opening a can of tuna. In normal conditions, tuna would be delicious, but Two-legs were masters at giving everything a metallic taste, then attempting to cover it with white glop called ‘mayo’.
Sighing, the tom obediently ate out of the bright blue dish she set on the floor. As he went for the water bowl to wash down the unpleasant morsels, he was scooped up and carried into another room, one where Two-legs watch flashing pictures that come out of an oddly-shaped box. The doorbell rang, and the She-leg dumped him on the sofa and rushed to answer it.
The tom shook himself indignantly and leapt up onto a wide windowsill, where he could view the world outside and wish he was a part of it. His reflection showed light fur with dark points, hinting at Siamese heritage. Light blue eyes blinked thoughtfully, and a long tail flicked at his side. As for his name, he had two. The more frequently used, and more disliked by himself, was ____. He preferred one that he thought suited him better, Gravity.
Another person, this time what Gravity referred to as a Tom-leg, chatted with the She-leg inside the doorway for a few minutes. Then the She-leg nodded, grabbed a lumpy brown bag hanging on a wall-hook, and disappeared out the door with the Tom-leg. Gravity watched them get inside a bright red monster and roar off before he stood and slid off the sill. Being left to his own devices often, he had already learned to tell how long his Two-leg would be gone. The Tom-leg and the bag, called a ‘purse’, meant that she was going on a ‘date’, and wouldn’t be back until the first stars began to shine. Which gave him about four more hours to continue his search. Ignoring the ache in his shoulders, Gravity slid back through the kitty door to the unbearably small backyard, where he easily launched himself over the white fence. If he hurried, he could make it to the lake, where a small group called PondClan made their home.
