That Life I’ll Never Live - A Nettlepaw De@th SRP

Instructions

TRIGGER WARNING! The following will contain slightly graphic mentions, of blo0d, g0re, and de@th. If you are bothered by this, please do not keep reading. Thank you! Nettlepaw tensed, senses supercharged. He could taste it in the air. His target was close. A chilly FlurryClan breeze ruffled his short fur. He shivered, but not from the cold. If he lived, he would be regarded a hero…and if not…no pressure. No pressure at all. He steadied himself, padding through the terrain of his new home, blustery winds buffering his back. He had always wanted to escape the canopied maze of his old territory, MossClan. Well, he’d finally gotten his wish, but it wasn’t in the way anyone wanted. Now, he had to defend his new home. He tensed. The scent. It was stronger here. The sharp, metallic, almost woody scent stung the roof of his mouth. It reminded him of the scent of blo0d. His short, sandy fur rose along his back. He didn’t like this. A den, hollowed out on the side of a hill, loomed like a yawning mouth, waiting to snatch him up. Where was the juvenile? Nettlepaw’s heart seemed to leap into his throat, taking the form of a giant claw, tearing out his throat. Something wasn’t right. Where was the juvenillle? Crack. A stick? And Nettlepaw had his answer. A huge creature sprang from the shadows of the hill, stinking of the blo0d-wood scent. In the blink of an eye, Nell’s scruff was in the jaws of the creature, and it was shaking him overandoverandoverandoverandover. Black speckles spattered Nettlepaw’s vision like mud splotches. Nettlepaw yowled. But only the sky would hear him. There was nobody to help him now. The juvenile, huge for the young of a creature, tossed Nel as if he was sodden fresh-kill, sending him hurling into a pine sapling springing from the side of the hill. Nettlepaw was winded on impact, and lay in the sweet-smelling soil, gasping for breath. Something hot and sticky pooled at his neck, and trickled down his shoulders. He had a faint idea of what it might be, but the only thought screaming through his brain was to Get. Up. Now. He staggered gracelessly to his feet, stars spinning through his mind, ears ringing like a Twoleg monster’s roar. He yowled and threw himself blindly into his opponent. He could still win. He had to win- The young wolf howled in pain as Nettlepaw lunged for its shoulder, sinking his fangs into the vile creature’s side. But the wolf was strong and uninjured. With one massive swipe, he sent Nettlepaw flying through the air, and he crashed limply into the dirt, defeated. The black speckles were starting to take over his vision like black hail. He couldn’t keep fighting. He had lost. His only hope was to maybe, just maybe, get back to camp in time. A glimmer of hope shone through the haze of reality, and Nettlepaw pulled himself to his paws, gasping at the effort. He stumbled through FlurryClan territory, trying, trying, trying to find his way back to camp. His breath started to come in ragged gasps, and a white sheen was starting to close in on his vision, like an ominous mist. No. No. No. He was out of time. He collapsed on the bank of a tiny stream, limbs now useless sticks. He tried to take a breath, wincing at the effort. He chuckled through the pain. Who knew it could be so hard to breathe? The red pool streaming from the back of his neck now flowed down his paws, coating them in something scarlet. He lay his head at the stream’s edge. The red river coming from his scruff bled into the stream, swirling mixes of clear and crimson. It was actually kind of pretty. Nel’s heart felt as if it was going to be torn in two, right then and there. He had imagined himself growing up to be the most powerful cat in the forest. Flashes of memories that would never be lit up in his mind. His Clanmates cheering his warrior name. Four kits stumbling around his paws, and a beautiful she-cat tucked into his neck fur, head on his shoulder. And then-and then! - him, standing atop the a rock, his Clanmates rallied at the foot of the huge boulder. All things that could have been…and never would be. He tucked in his paws, a smile creeping across his face. Warm sensations began to wrap around him. Scents flooded his nose…Sassafrassbright, Soulshade, Sagesolace… they were coming for him. They were taking him home. Nettlepaw lifted his head to the sky, which was beginning to glow in a canvas of warm shades, as the sun set. The warm rays, the last of the day, crept over his bloodied pelt. He smiled. Better enjoy it. It was the last time he’d ever feel the sun. He was going to a world of eternal night. The faces of his siblings coasted his mind. Blazepaw…Heatherpaw…Emberpaw… Suddenly, memories not yet made flashed behind his eyes once again. But they weren’t of him. They were of them. He saw them hunting, fighting, and falling in love. He saw them laugh, cry, and fight. He saw it all. And he was glad. They deserved the life he’d never have. (Cont. in Credits)