W A S H E D A W A Y
Prolouge
The lagre area seemed to never end, the sand under your paws was never completely soft, the grass never perfectly green.
It was a wide landscape of wilderness.
A place I could call home.
It was and still isn't quiet.
The song of many birds was there. The sound of the grazing peacfull animals was there.
Many times you could see the zebras and other animals of prey run from the lions.
No, I'm no lion. I'm more of a medium sized cat called a 'several' or something among these lines.
But unlike most other of my species I feel different.
I'm white.
I'm not the avergae orange-ish coated, but I'm white with some few black spot forming the pattern of my fur.
I was called "The thing" because of this, for being different.
I'm glad my past is gone.
Or I hope it is.
I didn't want to be washed away by insanity because of that.
I didn't want to.
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I hope you enjoyed the very short prolouge.
This is a story that has been stuck in my mind for some time, so I thought it was time to write it down. :)
