Post by Seastorm on Aug 2, 2008 17:37:43 GMT -5
One might find the name "demon" for an apprentice to be more than a little odd. What mother would choose that name for her kit? The truth that it had been a loner that had given her named kits to DiamondClan might have explained the phenomenon, especially if one had ever met her. Halloween was certainly an odd one.
But the name wasn't just odd. It was true. Demonpaw was quite the little devil, if only someone could see through his facade of young innocence and into the bubbling pit of evil just beneath the surface.
A malicious glint twinkled in his eye as he smirked down into the Echo Basin. The elders said that the dead cats denied entrance to StarClan were doomed to walk the Dark Forest alone, and that sometimes their spirits appeared in the Echo Basin. It was quite the bone-chilling thought, but Demonpaw was unperturbed. The only cats he would see down there were ones who had tried to climb the same ladder he would soon attempt in confidant hopes that they would reach their dark ambitions, and failed. They were all failures where Demonpaw would succeed. But still, he would take every scrap of knowledge he could get, because climbing his ladder would certainly not be easy.
The tri-hued apprentice dared to hope that one of the fallen spirits of the Dark Forest would come to him one day, if only to prove to whoever it was that he was unafraid, undaunted, by the thought of what he intended to do, and that he, unquestionably would reach his goal.
He hadn't trained with his mentor in moons, but as far as he was concerned, he didn't need a mentor. He was perfectly capable of learning to hunt through trial and error, and teaching himself his own style of fighting composed purely of moves he had made up himself. Now, nearly a warrior, he could hunt and kill any animal that crossed his path, and while he had never had anyone to practice his fighting on than Dawnpaw, he was certain that he'd be more than a match for whoever had the misfortune of being his first opponent. Perhaps he should ask a warrior at random for the chance at a mock fight, just for kicks.
But the name wasn't just odd. It was true. Demonpaw was quite the little devil, if only someone could see through his facade of young innocence and into the bubbling pit of evil just beneath the surface.
A malicious glint twinkled in his eye as he smirked down into the Echo Basin. The elders said that the dead cats denied entrance to StarClan were doomed to walk the Dark Forest alone, and that sometimes their spirits appeared in the Echo Basin. It was quite the bone-chilling thought, but Demonpaw was unperturbed. The only cats he would see down there were ones who had tried to climb the same ladder he would soon attempt in confidant hopes that they would reach their dark ambitions, and failed. They were all failures where Demonpaw would succeed. But still, he would take every scrap of knowledge he could get, because climbing his ladder would certainly not be easy.
The tri-hued apprentice dared to hope that one of the fallen spirits of the Dark Forest would come to him one day, if only to prove to whoever it was that he was unafraid, undaunted, by the thought of what he intended to do, and that he, unquestionably would reach his goal.
He hadn't trained with his mentor in moons, but as far as he was concerned, he didn't need a mentor. He was perfectly capable of learning to hunt through trial and error, and teaching himself his own style of fighting composed purely of moves he had made up himself. Now, nearly a warrior, he could hunt and kill any animal that crossed his path, and while he had never had anyone to practice his fighting on than Dawnpaw, he was certain that he'd be more than a match for whoever had the misfortune of being his first opponent. Perhaps he should ask a warrior at random for the chance at a mock fight, just for kicks.
