&&story.time.for.the.heartless | | closed

The day was slightly warmer than what it should be for leafbare, and with it it would bring storms. Harsh, violent storms that would be blizzards if it was colder. It always did this time of year. It never failed. The wind blew heavily, making tree limbs crack and what was left of the leaves fall. The poor things. They had clung onto their life source for so long, but it rejected their love. Just like he was rejected of any and all love. Everyone hated him, though he hated him too, so it wasn't like he blamed them. With a sigh, the tom plopped down on his nest in the warriors den. Storms that night meant he wouldn't be able to go out and walk around. Being an albino, he couldn't go out during the day either, so he was stuck in the camp. All day. Might as well wait until night to sleep.

He let out a yawn. It would be hard to wait. He had already been up since sunset last night, and that was such a bore. The night had been so calm, so uneventful. He didn't find anyone to torture with his crude words except a dead mouse. A mouse that he had killed. Curling his tail around his body, he used the fluffy tip to play with the moss at the edge of his nest. Staring at the mess he was creating, his eyes looked like he was staring at something much farther away. The pinkish orbs scared most anyone who looked into them. In fact, he scared most anyone who looked at him in general. A massive brute, Nightscream towered over pretty much everyone in the clan. His matted, dirty fur and pinkish eyes gave him the look of a deranged loner. He looked like he didn't have anyone to impress - which he didn't. He didn't care what others thought of him. He would be alone whether he looked nice or not. There was no reason at all to waste time on grooming a coat that was just going to get dirty again. Absolutely no use.

He wondered if an apprentice or kit would stop to hear him tell a story. He loved telling stories, loved creating a world where he could be anything and anyone he wanted him to be. And he seemed to have a way with words that made cats want to hear more. He seemed to have that special gift of creating dancing and vivid objects in others' minds with the simplest of words. Of course, he also used that to tear them down, to make them feel so low that they would have a hard time recovering. Just because he felt so miserable. He just wanted someone to feel miserable with him. He just wanted someone to save him. But no one ever could. No one would ever care enough. And if they did, he would push them away. He deserved to feel like this. He deserved to be what he was. He was a freak of nature, and freaks of nature never fit in.