Posted by STRAY on Jul 31, 2023 22:14:20 GMT
In a time that only the wind remembers, wild cats slowly congregated in this land and began working together to carve out a place for themselves amidst a world of bigger, badder predators. They formed three distinct colonies, each suited to hunting the prey in their territories─one in the foggy forest, one in the towering mountains, and one in the blooming fields. These were the first Clans.
Over the moons, they organized themselves in a way that the wind had never seen in cats. Their leaders had appointed second-in-commands, who told the other cats where to hunt and when so that prey would be available year-round. The young, the old, and the weak were fed first, which caused their numbers to grow. Each had cats that knew what certain plants did, and what to do when a peer was injured. This was stunningly impressive to the wind. Never before had it seen such organization, such regimented living in such a large group of animals.
And so, it whispered in their leaders' ears and guided them to the Moonpool, where it carried stardust to the earth and graced them with nine lives each, in hopes that they would lead these colonies with honor and solidify their claim to these lands. When they passed, the wind lifted their souls to the skies, returning them to the stars.
Their descendants now thrive in the Clan territories, each guided by the pawsteps of their ancestors and watched over with amusement by the wind. They stand strong and stable like the old-growth trees of their forests. These past couple of generations have been a boon to the Clans, a time of relative peace that has led to their numbers steadily increasing. Tensions are low, with only minor skirmishes with rogues and border scuffles to speak of. But peace never lasts forever.
There have been whispers on the wind, its usual song sounding somber as it communes with the stars...
Over the moons, they organized themselves in a way that the wind had never seen in cats. Their leaders had appointed second-in-commands, who told the other cats where to hunt and when so that prey would be available year-round. The young, the old, and the weak were fed first, which caused their numbers to grow. Each had cats that knew what certain plants did, and what to do when a peer was injured. This was stunningly impressive to the wind. Never before had it seen such organization, such regimented living in such a large group of animals.
And so, it whispered in their leaders' ears and guided them to the Moonpool, where it carried stardust to the earth and graced them with nine lives each, in hopes that they would lead these colonies with honor and solidify their claim to these lands. When they passed, the wind lifted their souls to the skies, returning them to the stars.
Their descendants now thrive in the Clan territories, each guided by the pawsteps of their ancestors and watched over with amusement by the wind. They stand strong and stable like the old-growth trees of their forests. These past couple of generations have been a boon to the Clans, a time of relative peace that has led to their numbers steadily increasing. Tensions are low, with only minor skirmishes with rogues and border scuffles to speak of. But peace never lasts forever.
There have been whispers on the wind, its usual song sounding somber as it communes with the stars...