just a story i'm writing write now... opinions? I'll prolly post more of it as i write it but this is all i have so far...
The street is fairly dark, only the moon shining onto the street in its half-full waxing self. The moon seems to have a slightly gray color, not that of its normal white self. The street is surrounded by a lot of trees, showing up in a kind of greenish gray in the half moon light, the trunks fully graying into the houses behind them. The gravel on the road bounces on for a while, before turning off on its round about way through the town. A while of walking down the street reveals that a group of creatures, clothed in dark robes are coming this way, perhaps a group of four. There is one in the center of the group, obviously female, whom is surrounded by the other three, whom may or may not be female. They are all hooded so one cannot see their faces, but they seem like the type of people whom are always wandering the streets at this time of the night so are quickly ignored. The hooded figure whom walks past them has a silent gait, unlike that of the creatures coming from the direction in which he is headed. A few white whiskers point out from his hood, twitching every once and a while. No other part of his flesh shows except his feet, resembling those of a cat's, splaying out on the ground silently, spreading the toes slightly apart. After a while, the figure hooded in the black cloak stops before a door which is a light gray color, matching that of the tree trunks. The cloaked figure opens the door, stepping into a small antechamber, lowering his hood, and removing the cloak, hanging it onto a small silvery hook. The small room is lit by two sconces on either wall, lighting the room in a flickering way. The now uncloaked figure stands about the height of a man, though is not a man but a cat. It is a black cat, standing on its hind legs. The fur is completely black except for a small line down its left cheek where it is white fur instead of black. The clothing the creature where's beneath it's cloak is of a soft leather, a light gray color matching closely the doors and walls but being a bit lighter in nature. The pants are the same, but are softer from a lot of movement, succumbing to time but still good enough to create some protection. The being, an Ahl'Artathi, reaches up for the door into the second room, opening it and then proceeding to step inside, closing the door behind him. The room is of the light gray of the door and that of the walls of the antechamber. The walls are littered with small pieces of parchment, scrawled upon so that notes will be remembered by everyone. Three desks are around the room, one on either side of a large bed, and another near a smaller bed across the room. Littering the floor are many scraps of paper. On the floor lay two cats, much of the same type as the one who just walked in, one female, and one male. Both of them seem to lay uncomfortable on the light gray lined floor, splayed out like a bunch of grapes which has been dropped onto the gravel. Darker gray stains line the floor and wall, creating puddles between the floor boards. On the wall on which the man whom just walked in is facing, there is a large picture of a spider, drawn in the same dark gray blood. The cloaked figure walks numbly, stepping more as if he does not know what he is doing, walking toward the picture of the spider. He presses a single finger to it, the blood sticking to the fur as he removes the fur-covered extremity from contact with the wall. The figure then turns again, looking to the two fallen ones, walking first to the female. He bends down, turning her over so that she is face up. Her face has many scrapes across it, the blood dripping down on to the floor. Her chest and breasts are flayed as well, obviously whipped, unlike her face which has been sliced. He looks for a moment into the lifeless eyes, then closes them, setting the body down onto the floor softly. He turns then to the other, doing the same. This figure has a single stab wound into the abdomen, two bloody stains where he has been pierced in the kneecap, and his eyes, unlike the female's, are non existent, having been ripped out. He puts his ear close to the figure's mouth, trying to see if he may still be breathing. No sound comes from deep inside the dead figure. The still live being rises from the bodies, walking back out, still numbly, toward the antechamber. He puts back on his cloak, slowly, obviously thinking about a great many things. He sits down on the bench in the room, curling up, staring into the wall on the opposite side. An hour passes, the Ahl'Artathi not moving except for the occasional blink as not to dry out his eyes, then sleep takes him; the eyes closing for a blink, but not opening again until the sun shines on his face in the morn.
* * *
Light drifts though the cracks in the wooden wall, shining onto the figure curled in it's cloak; a brief ray or two reflecting off the door leading to the next room and a few off perhaps two silver threads pointing up from the hood of the cloaked mass. The figure begins to stir, stretching out on the hard wooden bench so as to relieve itself of the tensions the bench created. Two padded feet come off the bench toward the door, covered in black fur, claws outstretched. Two padded hands come out from the top, also black, the claws outstretched as well. After a brief second and a small sigh, the figure curls up again before flipping off the bench to the ground. The figure lands on all four of its paws, knees stretched outward from it's center, whilst the elbows curve inward toward the figure's center of gravity. After a second in its crunched state with it's head down, it straightens up, feet now facing forward so it may walk normally. It looks toward the door leading into the next chamber. Two hands reach up from its sides, taking back the hood, which protects the face from view. The face of the creature is stretched out, ears pointed and up, moving slightly trying to catch the sounds of the morning. The pale yellow eyes, just vertical slits looking out ward. The muzzle of the creature is topped off by a small black, dry nose, ending the point of the short jaw, stretched out far in front of its eyes. The felinesque creature reaches toward the door, the worn handle feeling not splintery, but still rough under its touch. After a second's pause, perhaps gathering the will power to open the door, the creature opens the door, lowering his head in rhythm to the squeaking of the door against it's hinges. He looks into the room, the gray wooden walls and darker gray dried blood drawing shapes on them. The figure's stance falls slightly, going from a straight-backed noble's stance, to that of a hunched person in mourning. The creature's eyes seem to have more of a glisten then normal, the portal into the soul showing sadness. The glances across the room at the dark gray tracings depicting a spider encircled by a script in a text that is doubtful anyone in the town can read. He looks down toward the two corpses in the room, that of a male and a female of the same race as he. Both are of dark gray to black complexions, resembling wild pumas. The hair stands up as if in fear, claws outstretched, ears pointing; though, the corpses look soulless. He looks down toward the desk to his left. A large bag, perhaps a half by quarter pace in dimension, is filled with various coinage on the desk. He picks it up, slipping the pale greenish blue bag into his black cloak, hiding it from the world's ever seeing eyes. He turns around, heading out through the antechamber and on to the street, closing both the doors behind him. The sun rides low in the sky, perhaps a candle time past since it first rose above the horizon. He looks to the left, then the right, eyes scanning for something, or perhaps just surveying. He turns left and begins walking. After about a half candle he stops, being somewhat in the middle of a dark gray plane, speckled with bush and cacti with a pale green, though sometimes gray color. The sky is that of a pale blue, having lost the grays of the morning sun. He sits down upon the pale ground, taking from his belt a bit of dried fish, a piece of bread and his water skin. He eats the fish down fast, and then following it with a quick gulp of water. He then begins to eat his bread, nibbling on it for perhaps a quarter of a quarter candle, then takes another sip from his water flask. He sits for a while, perhaps contemplating his place in life, and then stands, walking on again toward the mountains in the distance against the faint blue sky.
* * *
The sun was beginning to set, perhaps disappearing over the horizon in perhaps half a candle. He was in the forest now, the path winding and turning through them toward the mountains. It would be a good idea to sleep when dusk settled, perhaps in a candle or so, into night so that he wouldn't get lost on the path. He continued walking, thinking about the day and the events of the night before events. The trees around him seemed to silence as he walked toward them, then go back to making sounds as he passed by them, the animals tentatively beginning to start making noise. After about a half a candle the sun had set and the remaining light was filtering lightly through the trees. He should get another half candle of walking in, but he sits down, against a tree, beginning to nibble at a small piece of bread again. Perhaps I should just sleep, I mean… its not like I'll get any less done, I'll just wake up an hour earlier tomorrow and begin walking…his mind fades into stillness as his head falls, himself falling asleep with the piece of bread still in his hand.
* * *
He wakes up to a small nuzzling at his hand. Instinctively he pulls away, grabbing at the creature with his other hand before he can even open his eyes. He is holding a small cat, it looks like a small leopard, but seems to be full grown. He loosens his grip and places his other hand under the creature to lift it up and get a better look at it. The small cat nips at his finger, tail moving from side to side. He sets it down gently and stands up, looking around for the sun. The sun seems to have passed about two candles since it rose, meaning he over slept two candles. He sighs gently and continues to walk down the path. The small leopard thing follows him as he walks, doing nothing but trailing him. After a while the cloaked cat notices him and turns around, looking at it curiously. If only I had taken that language class for talking to cats…He bends down, reaching out with his right paw, palm up. The small kitty comes forward a bit, sniffing at him then snuggles up against it. He turns his paw over and begins scratching it behind the ears, knowing that he likes it when people do that to him. The small cat begins purring softly, nowhere near as loud as he can purr but it makes him feel better all the same. "You want a ride little one?" he asks, not even sure if the cat can understand him but sure that he might as well ask before just picking it up. He picks up the cat and holds it in his right arm as he continues scratching it behind the ears with his left.