The Disease

[S t o r m]

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Roleplaying Wolfeye for the first time. Might be a little rough.
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The wind swept along the area, disturbing the quiet tranquility of the grass and shaking the leaves on the trees melodiously. The whisper of the oncoming zephyr sang with the birds in the trees, a background to their angelic concord. Exclusive of the birdsong, all was quiet, silence pervading the near vacant expanse. A black figure stood out among all the vegetation, stony grey eyes abnormal and irregular. An emptiness infested them as if they were missing some sole piece to complete their odd puzzle. The eyes seemed to be staring forward without actually taking in all that there was to see in the alluring zone in which they peered down at. The creature blinked once and a mild awkwardness seem to exist between it and the greenery around it. A barrier which could not be broken.

Meditating. Something they told me to do. It's supposed to help me get in touch with my surroundings... Screw this! Nothing can help my mousedung case.

A hiss escaped the cat's lips, and he whirled around, fur prickling wildly. This life wasn't for him. He shouldn't have to deal with such stupidity. He should be like everyone else. But that couldn't happen, now could it? He was a dead piece of meat in the eyes of his peers. Why fight his disorder? It wasn't like it was going away. Only going to get worse over time, if that was even achievable. He was a freaking cripple, and there was nothing he could do about it. StarClan had laid a curse upon him, and because of that, he was incapacitated. He was a liability in the face of danger. A substantial flaw in their prestigious Clan. What was the point? Why should he even try anymore? He was just meat, like his Clanmates thought. Just a rancid piece of dead meat that would get nowhere in its miserable unbalanced life.

"They can all lick each other's haunches." he growled defiantly. "It doesn't matter anyway. Because someday I'm going to show them what it's like to live my life. They'll see. Or maybe they won't see..." He lashed his tail in hatred, spitting on the lush ground that's beauty was always invisible to him. "Foxdung! I hate being blind!" With that, he gawkily but surely swiped at the trees around him, scoring his claws down their length, hissing out curses and painful words he had heard about himself as he did so. "No eyes! Zero chance! Crippled orbs! I can still fight! I can still dance my last dance! You don't know me!" By now he was screaming and the land around him echoed with his sadistic words.

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Word Count: 444
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