The ginger tom was lazing about, his paw raised above himself as he lay on the back, examining it. He flexed his paw experimentally, twisting it about as if he had never seen it before. His orange eyes were hazy, almost clouded over. It was almost as if the tom was asleep while his eyes were still open. Despite this appearance, the cats mind was whirring. His body merely had a hard time catching up. Finally, Weed lowered his paw, placing it on his stomach. He stared up at the sky, his eyelids drooping. Perhaps there were creatures up there, floating on the clouds. The ginger tom chuckled lightly at this, what a ridiculous notion. He imagined some tiny, fluffy white cats flitting about in the sky, and the image made him snicker. Licking the tip of his nose, the cat felt his stomach rowl and he sighed impatiently. Eating was such a hastle, and it never made him feel better anyway, so what was the point?
0ur journey began with a great wind hailing from the north which
shattered our world into pieces.
Lives were lost,
families torn apart, house pets were left on their own
without any humans to care for them.
Since then we have prevailed in the face of
the darkness that loomed over us day by day. We have thrived in this new world
and our story has only just begun.
In the Summer of Year 1 a destructive tornado
ravaged the isolated village of Foxcroft killing many of the humans, the rest
fled never to return.
It has been 17 years since the tornado that
ravaged and changed the Village forever.
It is Winter, Year 18
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