GlimmeringOcean
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This is a Self Roleplay with Fisher, a kit I'm applying for from a litter hosted by @.cosmic-wishes <3
Secrets, Solace and Sorrow - A Fisher SRP
The stars are glittering coldly above, shedding their twinkling rays upon the forest, but the light is faint, and if the moon were to be covered, the path through the trees would be almost invisible. The stars did not help any cat along their way, they only glittered maliciously in the darkness of night.
No soul should be awake at this hour, but since when did anyone listen to the rules set before them? Night and day often melded into one. Sleep only claimed you when you were tired. At least it was so for Fisherpaw, the silent blue-grey tom who was padding through the shadowed forest. His yellow eyes were bright with their intensity, and so he made his way. He glanced up, once or twice, to glare at the stars. As if they themselves had offended him. As if they were the things that caused him so much pain. In his mind, they were.
His paws crunched on the leaves scattered on the ground, and though he hated to express anything but disdain, no cat was around, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He briefly looked around him, before he continued. He wanted to be farther away from his clanmates, to dwell in his favourite place, on his own. And as long as he crossed paths with no other cat, it would be so, for the place he was headed was secluded and secret. Fisherpaw liked to think that there, he was hidden from even Starclan themselves. And with purpose showing in his stride, he located his hideaway.
A large boulder was placed in front of the tom. A lone firefly buzzed past, lighting the side of the boulder briefly, illuminating the vines that hung from it, and the flowers that bloomed from them. And then the firefly was gone, leaving only the darkness and a faint afterimage from the bright light, partially obscuring Fisherpaw's vision for a brief moment. Shaking his head to wipe away the image burned on his pupils, with little success, Fisherpaw pushed his way past the vines that had hung on the boulder.
To the surprise of onlookers, if there were any, the boulder wasn't solid, and housed a small cave. From just a moment's glance, it was obvious that Fisherpaw spent a lot of his spare time here. There was a collection of trinkets, feathers, leaves and pebbles, to name just a few, in the corner, tidied into neat piles, and the grooves in the walls were used as shelves, for extra storage. There were a few fireflies, fluttering about aimlessly, that Fisherpaw had caught and released inside here, to give him some light source. A pile of moss made a nest in the corner. Flowers and vines also decorated the walls, hung from every nook that Fisher could find, to make him feel more at home, and to distract the eye from the bare stone that made up the structure of the cave. There were also a number of etchings on the walls, sketches of family members, and of things Fisherpaw wished not to forget, such as the elaborate tales that the elders had told him, carefully scrawled onto the walls in images.
Fisherpaw had vowed to himself that he would only show the cave to a cat he trusted deeply, and it was a secret to all except him. For now, it was his secret, his place of solace and peace. He didn't know what divine being had created the cave, or if it had been nature's doing, but he wished to thank that being, with his whole heart, for offering him a place to be alone, be himself.
Fisherpaw made his way farther into the hollowed boulder, and lay on the soft moss. The only sound was the buzzing of fireflies that darted to and fro, and Fisher's own breathing. Yet despite being in his place of rest, and tiredness finally beginning to slow him, he didn't want sleep to come, for too many thoughts buzzed in his head. And how to express them? Most cats wouldn't understand his attempts to communicate. Most cats wouldn't care. Fisherpaw let his head drift down to lay on his paws, and curled his tail around himself. He was alone now, and though he liked being secluded, on occasion, such as now, he felt that he was separated from the others, not just by the barrier that his lack of speech caused, but also he himself pushing the other cats away. Yet he attempted not dwell on it, because dwelling on his own faults was like trying to fill the fissures in a rock with pebbles, eventually the fissure would widen, and so the cycle would continue.
But stopping a train of thought was like trying to stop the flow of a river, and now he wondered if he was enough. His mama was the leader of the clan, and she and his other mama were so supportive of him, but he must seem ever so ungrateful, disappearing for hours at a time to be in his own company, with his own thoughts.
None of the others realised that he was saving them from himself. He was such a burden to them, anyone who wished to communicate with him had to learn elaborate signs, and his own short-temper must hurt a lot of cats' feelings. He didn't mean to. Truly, he didn't. Yet all the swirling emotions inside of him would not be contained. Whether he could speak or not, his anger would show in every inch of his body. Flashing eyes, unsheathed claws, bared teeth and arched back. So secluding himself stopped the others from being hurt by him.
Perhaps, he thought, it would be better if he sunk into the ground, if the soil swallowed him up, and he was left in a chamber, far below, where he would be away from others, and his thoughts would be his only company.
If he tried to explain his feelings, he felt others would pity him. He didn't want their pity. All he wanted was to be like them. Not this short-tempered, cold and silent cat which he had become.
Fisherpaw did not want any of this. He wanted to scream but his voice wouldn't come. Why Starclan? Why must you make me feel so alone? All he had ever wanted was to be heard. But never would it be so. He would never be like other cats. He would never express. He would never utter a single word.
And no matter how hard he tried, no one would hear him cry.
1103 words <33
❒ links
(( back to application project )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/971316083/
(( back to application forum )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/743407/?page=1#post-7821704
(( litter project )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/962357804
Secrets, Solace and Sorrow - A Fisher SRP
The stars are glittering coldly above, shedding their twinkling rays upon the forest, but the light is faint, and if the moon were to be covered, the path through the trees would be almost invisible. The stars did not help any cat along their way, they only glittered maliciously in the darkness of night.
No soul should be awake at this hour, but since when did anyone listen to the rules set before them? Night and day often melded into one. Sleep only claimed you when you were tired. At least it was so for Fisherpaw, the silent blue-grey tom who was padding through the shadowed forest. His yellow eyes were bright with their intensity, and so he made his way. He glanced up, once or twice, to glare at the stars. As if they themselves had offended him. As if they were the things that caused him so much pain. In his mind, they were.
His paws crunched on the leaves scattered on the ground, and though he hated to express anything but disdain, no cat was around, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He briefly looked around him, before he continued. He wanted to be farther away from his clanmates, to dwell in his favourite place, on his own. And as long as he crossed paths with no other cat, it would be so, for the place he was headed was secluded and secret. Fisherpaw liked to think that there, he was hidden from even Starclan themselves. And with purpose showing in his stride, he located his hideaway.
A large boulder was placed in front of the tom. A lone firefly buzzed past, lighting the side of the boulder briefly, illuminating the vines that hung from it, and the flowers that bloomed from them. And then the firefly was gone, leaving only the darkness and a faint afterimage from the bright light, partially obscuring Fisherpaw's vision for a brief moment. Shaking his head to wipe away the image burned on his pupils, with little success, Fisherpaw pushed his way past the vines that had hung on the boulder.
To the surprise of onlookers, if there were any, the boulder wasn't solid, and housed a small cave. From just a moment's glance, it was obvious that Fisherpaw spent a lot of his spare time here. There was a collection of trinkets, feathers, leaves and pebbles, to name just a few, in the corner, tidied into neat piles, and the grooves in the walls were used as shelves, for extra storage. There were a few fireflies, fluttering about aimlessly, that Fisherpaw had caught and released inside here, to give him some light source. A pile of moss made a nest in the corner. Flowers and vines also decorated the walls, hung from every nook that Fisher could find, to make him feel more at home, and to distract the eye from the bare stone that made up the structure of the cave. There were also a number of etchings on the walls, sketches of family members, and of things Fisherpaw wished not to forget, such as the elaborate tales that the elders had told him, carefully scrawled onto the walls in images.
Fisherpaw had vowed to himself that he would only show the cave to a cat he trusted deeply, and it was a secret to all except him. For now, it was his secret, his place of solace and peace. He didn't know what divine being had created the cave, or if it had been nature's doing, but he wished to thank that being, with his whole heart, for offering him a place to be alone, be himself.
Fisherpaw made his way farther into the hollowed boulder, and lay on the soft moss. The only sound was the buzzing of fireflies that darted to and fro, and Fisher's own breathing. Yet despite being in his place of rest, and tiredness finally beginning to slow him, he didn't want sleep to come, for too many thoughts buzzed in his head. And how to express them? Most cats wouldn't understand his attempts to communicate. Most cats wouldn't care. Fisherpaw let his head drift down to lay on his paws, and curled his tail around himself. He was alone now, and though he liked being secluded, on occasion, such as now, he felt that he was separated from the others, not just by the barrier that his lack of speech caused, but also he himself pushing the other cats away. Yet he attempted not dwell on it, because dwelling on his own faults was like trying to fill the fissures in a rock with pebbles, eventually the fissure would widen, and so the cycle would continue.
But stopping a train of thought was like trying to stop the flow of a river, and now he wondered if he was enough. His mama was the leader of the clan, and she and his other mama were so supportive of him, but he must seem ever so ungrateful, disappearing for hours at a time to be in his own company, with his own thoughts.
None of the others realised that he was saving them from himself. He was such a burden to them, anyone who wished to communicate with him had to learn elaborate signs, and his own short-temper must hurt a lot of cats' feelings. He didn't mean to. Truly, he didn't. Yet all the swirling emotions inside of him would not be contained. Whether he could speak or not, his anger would show in every inch of his body. Flashing eyes, unsheathed claws, bared teeth and arched back. So secluding himself stopped the others from being hurt by him.
Perhaps, he thought, it would be better if he sunk into the ground, if the soil swallowed him up, and he was left in a chamber, far below, where he would be away from others, and his thoughts would be his only company.
If he tried to explain his feelings, he felt others would pity him. He didn't want their pity. All he wanted was to be like them. Not this short-tempered, cold and silent cat which he had become.
Fisherpaw did not want any of this. He wanted to scream but his voice wouldn't come. Why Starclan? Why must you make me feel so alone? All he had ever wanted was to be heard. But never would it be so. He would never be like other cats. He would never express. He would never utter a single word.
And no matter how hard he tried, no one would hear him cry.
1103 words <33
❒ links
(( back to application project )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/971316083/
(( back to application forum )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/743407/?page=1#post-7821704
(( litter project )) ➢
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/962357804