Talvez, pode ser ficção científica como nos filmes... qualquer dia seremos nós os rafeiros das "mijas" pelo chão da casa e os cães a chamarem-nos "snoopy, snoopy, snoopy, anda ao papá!"... !
Agora, não há indicios disso... mas... um simples arroto pode mudar tudo!
Era uma pena... cry (
Ficção científica (talvez) - cães escondem inteligência de humanos???????????
Moderador: mcerqueira
Se gosta de Ficção Cientifica vou deixar-lhe aqui um conto.
Retirei-o da Internet em Word e por isso já não sei qual é o site. Pode copiar e voltar a coloca-lo em Word.
O conto refere-se a gatos, mas se os substituissem por cães a história não se alterava.
Mas por favor, não misture realidade com ficção.
The Spellweaver's Tale
by Michael M. Jones
The river was high the morning after the heavy rains, made thick and dark by mud and debris, the water slopping far over the banks, wrapping around trees and bushes and generally making a nuisance of itself. Farther down river, the water was already invading the basements of low-lying houses and apartment complexes. But here, where the houses had been set back far enough, it was nothing more than a reminder of the terrible thunderstorm of the night before. The river was high, and Gabriel knew there was going to be trouble. He could feel it in his tail. It was that eerie combination of stillness and anticipation that always put his fur on edge and made him want to yowl for his mother.
But he was no longer a kitten, and his mother was far away. So instead, he did what he had to. He went searching for his mentor. Giving the river one last baleful look, his amber eyes glinting with the knowledge of what was to come, he turned and stalked into the house, every inch the dignified cat, his manner covering over the worry that churned in his stomach.
Once inside, it was an easy matter to find a part of the house still cast in shadows, a part where electric lights and the early morning sun had not yet touched. A closet door, just barely opened, gave him the room he needed to slip inside, into the darkness that only a cat's eyes could truly appreciate. He meowed softly, flicked his whiskers twice, and beat his tail against the floor. Eyes closed, he waited for the response.
The voice insinuated itself into his mind, soft velvet rubbing against his fur. "Why do you call me, Gabriel?"
Gabriel envisioned his mentor sitting in front of him in the darkness, bright green eyes glowing against the crack of dim light from the barely-open door. "I need advice from you," he replied in the same mental manner. Where his mentor's speech was soft velvet, his was new-spun cotton, sunlight to the other's darkness. "The river overflows, and the wards grow weak. They will break tonight, and the shadows will run free. I'm scared, teacher. I'm not ready for this challenge. The shadows are old and powerful, while I am still young and half-trained."
There was a long silence. Then the soft velvet mindtouch was replaced by a cascade of church bells, and the cool feeling of a moonrise. Surprised, Gabriel opened his eyes a slit, and found himself staring into the emerald eyes of an otherwise invisible large black cat. "Prowler!" he exclaimed, his tail flicking in lost composure. He immediately assumed a position of respect in front of his mentor. "How did you…?"
"Shadow-walking is an art you will learn in time, young Gabriel," replied the older feline, his sleek black form separating itself from the shadows. He motioned for his student to rise. "But that is for the future. We are here for today. Show me the problem."
Gabriel slipped out of the closet, and back outside, the larger cat following him silently, whiskers trembling and tail twitching against the magic that wove itself through the area. Back in the house, Gabriel's human companion continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the dangers yet to come, nor of his feline companion's role in the matter.
Together, Gabriel and Prowler sat near the banks of the river, lost in the quiet contemplation of the world that lay over and next to the physical one. It was a world of music and colors and pure sensations, lacking the crass physicality of the mortal plane. It was the world in which all cats spent half their lives, their birthright and responsibility. Simultaneously, Gabriel and Prowler shed their mortal shells, slipping fully into the spirit world. Here, Prowler appeared as black velvet and midnight bells, nighttime magics and dark secrets. Gabriel was his opposite, a creature of soft-spun cotton and wind chimes, sunrise magics and amber threads. Despite their differences, they shared one thing in common: a cat's ability to weave magic and perceive the spirit world.
The two cats contemplated the spirit world before them. It was easy to become lost in the rainbow tapestry and music, easy to forget that it was a realm of pure spirit and magic and that the merest flicking of a tail could effect a profound change. The "bodies" they wore here were spirit reflections of the real world, but just as vulnerable to injury, and even death. Prowler spoke softly with his younger companion, showing him how everything wove together. How a latticework of glowing amber threads spun itself across the quicksilver rapids of the river, and how underneath, the shadows writhed, whispering curses and promising evil.
Even as Prowler and Gabriel watched, the shadows reared back, slamming themselves roughly against the wards imprisoning them within the banks of the river. The amber threads shone brightly, stretching ever so briefly before snapping back into place. The howls of agony and frustration from the shadows echoed all around; however, deep down within, there was a darker chord of building triumph. The latticework appeared frayed in places, knots coming undone and sections losing their color, fading to alabaster as their strength ebbed.
"It's worse than I expected," murmured Prowler, thumping his tail in worry. Around him, the sound of midnight bells grew somber with his mood. "The wards were originally anchored in a much quieter river. In an ideal world, they would have grown stronger with time, not weaker. Unfortunately Man's ill treatment of nature has taken its toll, changing the course of the river, destroying the water's purity, and undermining the magics of old. I can feel it in my whiskers, just as you did. The wards will fail if not rebuilt. The shadows will escape. There will be trouble."
Gabriel didn't bother to disguise his own worry and fear. "Can't we just strengthen the wards?"
"No," replied Prowler. "It is too late to strengthen them. It would be a patchwork job, likely to come undone at an even worse time." He indicated spots in the glowing lattice. The shadows snickered and howled, throwing insults and writhing in anticipation below. "This was powerful tail magic, cast in a time when our spells had more potency, our beliefs stronger. It was before we grew weak and forgetful. It was cast in the time when Man worked with us, before he too forgot his ways."
Gabriel turned his mind back to the lessons Prowler had taught him. It was true. Once there had been a time when catkind and Mankind worked as partners, providing companionship and protection from threats. Mankind had protected the cats from mundane dangers, while cats walked the barriers between the worlds, protecting Mankind from magical and unknown menaces. But time had passed. Man had forgotten, neglecting his duties, remembering them as a mere shadow of the original pact. But the cats had never forgotten. Not all, but many, still honored the old ways. Prowler and Gabriel were two such felines, sworn to defend cat and Man alike from threats of old. The shadows were among the worst of those ancient marauders.
Gabriel was scared, but he tried to hide it behind a sense of duty and pride. "But we can do something, right?"
"I… am not sure," admitted Prowler. "The shadows are weak, after so many years of imprisonment. That is in our favor. But we are just as weak. We've lost a lot of secrets with the passing of seasons, and what tail magics we remember may not be potent enough anymore."
"Then we shall use whisker magic, and heart magic," said Gabriel boldly, fluffing himself up. "We shall use what we have."
That amused Prowler to no end. Suddenly very proud of his apprentice, he said, "You do your line credit. But boldness is little substitute for lack of power. To weave such magics together, under such circumstances, against such enemies…. It can be done, but the price may be high. Too high. I have known tales of cats who have succeeded in efforts like that, only to pour their own life into the making. You could succeed, but die in the process."
"Since when does a cat worry about death?" asked Gabriel with the cocky immortality of youth.
"When he's only in its third life, like you are, and casting these enchantments might require him to sacrifice all of his remaining lives, my friend," said Prowler soberly. "You'd never see your fourth life, much less your ninth."
"Oh." That quieted Gabriel down. He spent a long minute staring into the river's reflection, eyeing the amber energy that was all that stood between the shadows and freedom. He noted how many of the sections had become alabaster, their energy almost completely spent. He saw how many of the latticework intersections were cracked and disjointed. And he saw the shadows, obsidian creatures of infinite depth that twisted and moved in nauseating patterns in their prison. Their numbers were without end, making it impossible to distinguish between one and the next. He contemplated the awful truth. They couldn't cast a new spell of imprisonment until the old one was gone… which meant that the shadows would enjoy several moments of freedom while the new spell was being woven. Unquestionably a messy situation from any viewpoint. Thank the Mother he'd have Prowler there to back him up and watch his back.
Then a sudden, horrifying thought struck him. "Master? Prowler? If the wards here are failing… what about the ones near your home?"
Prowler's head shot up with the realization. "The ones near… Ash and Oak!" he exclaimed. He'd been distracted from his own duties while worrying about this problem! There were even worse things than shadows, and a cluster of them had long been imprisoned under the ground near where he lived. Ten years ago, the mortals had built a swimming pool over the prison, weakening the wards greatly at the time. Now, the pool was empty and in disrepair, the cement in the bottom cracked. It was scheduled for repair in several months, at which time Prowler could easily restrengthen the wards, building on the old ones. He'd spent most of his current life standing guard, making sure that the things below did not escape.
"This storm was a bad one," Gabriel said softly. "I felt an evil in it. Almost as though it was trying to free its brothers from captivity."
"You're more sensitive to these things," admitted Prowler. "My line has always had an affinity for shadow walking and night magics. You, on the other hand, come from a long line of cats proficient in warding spells and day magics, exactly what you'll need in order to succeed." Almost casually, he looked away, following a series of threads that deepened from amber to chocolate. Distance meant little in this realm, and an accomplished cat could work wonders here. He remained like that for several long minutes, viewing the distant spells.
"By the Mother," he whispered suddenly. "You were right." He looked around, tail and whiskers trembling with sudden fear. "I must go."
"Go?" yowled Gabriel. "What do you mean, go? I need you!"
"The spells I swore to watch over are breaking!" exclaimed Prowler. "I have to be there!"
"What about the ones here?"
Prowler stopped in the middle of preparing to return to the mortal plane. He turned to regard Gabriel, emerald eyes bright with power. "This is your duty," he said softly. "Your responsibility… and your test. I regret that it is a matter of such urgency, but I fear that all such tests of your power will be just as urgent, and just as deadly. I have trained you well, Gabriel. I have faith. You will do what you must." With that, he relaxed his perceptions, slipping back into the mortal world and his body. Gabriel followed.
"But I need you… I'm not ready!" yowled Gabriel piteously.
"You must be ready," said Prowler. "Because only you can do this. Do or die, die or do, but follow your nature."
Gabriel sighed, and thumped his tail indignantly. "But," he began, knowing his protests were hopeless.
"Do your best," said Prowler. "We shall meet in the morn if we survive the night." As he spoke, he turned and dashed away. As soon as he'd reached a patch of thick shadows, cast by a willow tree down by the river, he vanished, accompanied by a cascade of discordant bells and a smell of scorched fur. Gabriel winced, guessing that so much ambient light was a detriment to shadow walking. He could only hope that Prowler made it home safely. Unfortunately, he was now left with less than a day to prepare; he had until nightfall, when the wards would break and the shadows would escape. He gave the river another glare, and went back inside, where his human was just now putting out breakfast for him.
As Gabriel ate the canned cat food from the plastic bowl, he let his mind wander. His human was a good person, creative and caring, and curiously eccentric in the manner of all humans. But was he worth possibly dying for? Were any of them? They'd forgotten the old covenants, and turned away from nature. They polluted, destroyed, killed and exploited. They were careless, thoughtless, arrogant, greedy and selfish. They believed themselves superior to all other creatures, and they saw cats as little more than pets. Or did they? Gabriel looked up at his human, smelling the wonderful aroma of bacon sizzling. He succumbed to temptation, yowling with desire.
The human looked down, and smiled. Wonder of wonders, he then tossed Gabriel part of a bacon strip. Ah, humans did have their faults, but occasionally they came through. They weren't without potential, or beyond redemption. He sighed softly, swallowing the treat. There was no denying his nature. Tonight, he would spellweave, no matter the cost.
The rest of the day passed both with maddening slowness and infuriating swiftness. Gabriel anticipated what was to come, yet dreaded it with every hair on his tail. He prepared as best he could, reviewing everything he'd ever been taught in his head as he lay in a patch of sunbeam. The sun soaked into his fur, soothing him and recharging his strength. He offered up silent prayers to the Mother of Cats, and to Helios, and to Luna, asking them to look down on their wayward child and grant him the strength he would need. Later in the day, he made the rounds of the house, exploring it one last time, reveling in the sensations and memorizing it all. For all he knew, it was the last time he'd get to do this. He spent some time with his human, curled up and purring loudly. In this small act, in the happiness of his human, Gabriel took pleasure and strength.
At last, the sun began to set, and night approached. Gabriel ventured outside, sitting down on the lawn and facing the near river. He flicked his tail and whiskers, and once more slipped into the spirit plane. Here, the battle would be fought. The wards would be rewoven, and Gabriel would live or die in this realm. If he lost, the shadows would be free to go wherever they wanted, taking up residence in whatever mortal bodies they found, to spread their evil blight over the world. His would be the first, and his human's the second, most likely.
He would not fail. There was too much at stake.
The shadows threw themselves at the latticework that barred them from the rest of the world, pounding against the spell again and again, over and over, each time the spell growing a tiny bit weaker. Another bar of the lattice faded to alabaster, another joint cracked. The murmuring and whispering of the shadows grew louder, and their song of triumph overwhelmed the pained shrieks as they rebounded off of the magical prison. The sun set slowly, slipping past the horizon without a sound. As the last of its light vanished, the shadows screamed in victory.
The dark song rose to a crescendo, and Gabriel held himself in absolute stillness. All around him, the spirit plane seemed to be waiting. The only song now was that of the shadows as their funeral dirge reached a high point, like a wave about to come crashing down. The shadows hit the amber prison once more, and it began to splinter. There was no hope of fixing it now.
Gabriel took in a breath. The latticework crumbled in slow motion. Gabriel let the breath out as, with a series of sharp cracks, the spell dissolved. The shadows poured free in a tidal wave of ebon malevolence.
In the last few seconds before the oncoming rush overwhelmed him, Gabriel felt a stab of pure, irrational terror. All he wanted to do was lay down and die, just to get it over with. These were creatures from nightmares and legends, myths that had been trapped for much longer than he'd been alive. Who was he, a mere kitten in comparison, to think to stand against them? No, better by far if he tucked his tail under his nose, and waited for the end. If his luck held, it would come quickly. If his luck held, and they didn't just take his body while he was still alive, able to experience the suffering they'd bring.
With a cry born from somewhere deep in his soul, he thrust away the primal fear, channeling all of that adrenaline into aggression. His tail went up in the air, he fluffed out his fur as far as it would go, bared his fangs, and hissed at the oncoming shadows with all the anger he could manage. It didn't slow them in the least, but by the Mother of Cats, it made him feel a lot better. His amber eyes blazed with fire, his fur crackling with electricity as he began weaving his spells.
It was a deadly dance, one forcing Gabriel to move fluidly, leaping high in the air, throwing himself to the ground, manipulating tail and whiskers and body in unison. His tail whipping like an angry snake, he cast a spell to repel the shadows, protecting him from their deadly touch. Here on the spirit plane, he was vulnerable, but only if he allowed it. A song rose about him, a caterwauling that shredded the closest shadows and drove the rest away. But it would not last forever…. Their very touch drained his power, and if they chose to attack en masse, he would not remain safe for long.
The shadows gathered around him, keeping to a safe distance, watching him, staring at him with hungry eyes, whispering a soft undercurrent of threats and unholy promises. They were both audience and jury, and the second he faltered they would overwhelm him. Gabriel danced for his life, every movement another part of the spells that slowly began to rise all about him. Leap in the air, and amber threads followed his movements. Twist and roll on the ground, and where his fur touched, silver formed. Spin around in a circle, and he was rewarded by a shower of rainbow sparkles that hovered in place like miniature stars.
The dark whispering grew louder, unintelligible threats that tried to break his concentration. Gabriel did not, would not, listen to them. In fact, he used the undercurrent of their noise as a platform to raise his own song. He was new-spun cotton, wind chimes, daylight magics and amber threads. They were oil slicks, decaying leaves, ancient murders and fresh betrayals. He was light, they were the darkness rightly feared by the irrational, primal self. He danced to spite them, and the spell began to take shape.
The shadows pressed in closer, their whispers becoming dark laughter. A shadow threw itself forward against the barrier of protection Gabriel had cast, and was torn apart with a hideous shriek. A second one threw itself, likewise dissipating. Then they began to press forward wholesale, one shadow after another testing the barrier. The flashes as they were destroyed grew blinding, like a million flashbulbs going off. Soon there was no end to the screaming and the blinding strobe lights. Gabriel's song of defiance and daylight was rivaled by their anthem of destruction and hatred.
Still he danced and wove his spells, though he could feel exhaustion creeping in. He leapt and spun and rolled, tail acting with a mind of its own, whiskers glowing as amber energy rolled along them. He knew his barrier was weakening rapidly. The shadows grew closer, making it claustrophobic in his little area of safety. The blackness mounted. Gabriel softly regretted that he'd never see another sunrise. Feeling a sense of failure, he murmured a soft apology to Prowler, and to the Mother of Cats.
The shrieking was deafening, a cacophony of deathscreams and claws on chalkboards. It was anathema to a creature of music like Gabriel, his ears flattening backwards in offense. A shadow flung itself against his barrier with gleeful abandon, and was torn apart with a screech to rival the Apocalypse. Concentration broken for a split second, Gabriel faltered.
The song died. The pattern began to break apart. His shield shattered into a million pieces, and the shadows rushed him. Gabriel resumed the spellweaving, but he knew it was too late. The shadows would tear him apart long before he finished. And he accepted his fate. He would die, but he would do so proudly. He threw his anger into one last dead-waking yowl, and danced.
The first shadows reached him, and still he danced. They clawed at his sides, grasped for his tail, tried for his whiskers, and he fluidly moved out of their reach with impossible twists of the torso and inspired leaps. Gold and silver and amber followed him, building a spell that would return these ancient blasphemies to their prison.
They crowded in, muttering victory and obscenities, and he defied them. They clawed and bit, tore strips of flesh from his sides, and he lost himself in the passion of his dancing, his spilled blood only serving to make the spell stronger. Self-sacrifice was the greatest power source of all, and he threw himself into his construct with every fiber of his being.
Then, from all directions, there resonated a dozen, two dozen yowls, echoing his own battle cry. These were not the hatred-born screams of the shadows, but the welcome sound of cats entering the fray. The shadows were split just like that, as cats of every size and color swarmed in, attacking with fang and claw. Shadow after shadow was ripped apart, thrown aside, forced away from Gabriel.
He spared the briefest of glances to his rescuers. An impressively solid black and white cat stunned the shadows, every swipe of his paw doing grievous damage, moving slowly and surely through the mass of evil. A silver-gray tabby moved with blinding speed, taunting and leaping from target to target, sowing confusion and discord among the enemy. A whole swarm of fluffy cream-colored kittens engulfed a shadow, pulling it down and shredding it. A fire-colored cat called up flames, ringing shadows within them, the light of the fire weakening the creatures of darkness. At the edge of his strength, Gabriel knew hope again.
The fire-colored cat saw him. There was a brief second as their gazes locked, and then the fire cat yowled, "There are those who remember the old ways… now finish it, brother!" before turning back to the battle.
Gabriel nodded, throwing himself whole-heartedly back into the half-woven spell. Latticework grew swiftly, fueled by his newfound hope. Silver and amber threads wove themselves into a tapestry, taking anchor and sprouting from the ground, the air, the river, the trees. The spell was a strong one, and he wove it with a confidence he'd never known before. He ignored the sounds of battle, the deathcries of cats, the shrieks of the shadows, and leapt and twisted. Tail magic met whisker magic and was tied together with heart magic, cemented with his blood. He felt a quiet sorrow rip free of his chest, and he realized that his very soul was entangled in the weaving. A second sorrow ripped free, and with an almost calm regret, he knew he'd placed at least two of his lives into this spell. Even if he lived through this, he'd only live seven lives total. A third sorrow slipped free, and he bid it farewell, sending it on its way. If that's what it took…
And now the spell was almost complete, but he had nothing left to give it. His energy was almost completely gone, and he could barely move. He was weak from the effort, and from his injuries. The energy that flowed through him was a trickle. And still he danced. He offered the spell another life, and another, and it took them greedily. That was five lives that he would never lead. All that, and it wanted more, and by the Mother of Cats, it wasn't fair, he didn't want to give it any more. There was no stopping now. Another life slipped free, and he wept. He had but one more to sacrifice, and that was this one. One last piece to the puzzle he'd woven.
It had been a good life, if short.
They would always remember him. Spellweaver. Shadowtrapper. Hero.
Dead.
"Take it, damn you," he whispered with the last of his breath. "Take my life and be complete. Just end this now, please…" He closed his eyes, so no one might watch the last sparks of life fade from them. Maybe the amber would fade to alabaster as the power vanished.
The last sorrow slipped free with his final breath.
The spell activated.
Trapped once more, the shadows were sucked back into their prison with an unholy howl born of defeat and anger and frustration, the danger they posed over at last.
Though sure he was dead, Gabriel felt a cool brush against his cheek, and the tickle of soft whiskers. "Mother," he whispered. He felt like a kitten again, nestled up against his mother, her purr everything he needed. She was his world. There were no shadows, no spells, nothing but the love of a mother.
"You've done well, my child," she told him. "You can rest now. Or…"
"Or?"
"Or you may return, and live out your lives. You may enter your fourth life."
"But I gave them up…"
"And I'm giving you more, my dear brave child. It's my prerogative. You've earned them."
"Can I…?"
"Can you what?"
"Can I… return to my third life? Please?" Gabriel asked softly, hopefully. "It was a good one."
"Would you give up a life to return to that one?"
"Yes, Mother, I would. For my human, who was always good to me. For Prowler, who taught me. And because there was so much left to do."
She chuckled softly, and nudged Gabriel, licking his fur into place. Gently, the Mother of Cats replied, "You are truly one of my children. Go home, Gabriel. Go back to your life, Gabriel the spellweaver, and make me proud of you."
Gabriel didn't even have time to thank her, before he was awake again, on the spirit plane, surrounded by the cats who had come to his aid. The fire-colored cat bowed and the rest likewise honored him. Among cats, warriors were common, and all of them had at least a touch of magic. But spellweavers were special. And he was no longer an apprentice, but a full-fledged spellweaver.
There were no speeches or lengthy celebrations. Bone-tired and injured, the cats padded away silently, secure in the feeling of victory, slipping one by one back to the mortal world. Gabriel was the last to go. There was a quiet, peaceful feel to the spirit realm.
The river was back down to its normal levels, and the sun was just rising over the mountains. It was a crisp, clear, cool day, with only a few clouds in the sky, and a feeling of peace in the air. Gabriel was pleased as he went inside. He was ravenous from his efforts, and he decided to wake his human, make him uphold his end of the pact for once. Once Gabriel had regained some strength, he'd check on Prowler, see if his mentor had been successful with his own tasks. After that, who knew? The future looked promising.
And in a realm far removed from that one, a Mother smiled warmly, proud of her children.
Retirei-o da Internet em Word e por isso já não sei qual é o site. Pode copiar e voltar a coloca-lo em Word.
O conto refere-se a gatos, mas se os substituissem por cães a história não se alterava.
Mas por favor, não misture realidade com ficção.
The Spellweaver's Tale
by Michael M. Jones
The river was high the morning after the heavy rains, made thick and dark by mud and debris, the water slopping far over the banks, wrapping around trees and bushes and generally making a nuisance of itself. Farther down river, the water was already invading the basements of low-lying houses and apartment complexes. But here, where the houses had been set back far enough, it was nothing more than a reminder of the terrible thunderstorm of the night before. The river was high, and Gabriel knew there was going to be trouble. He could feel it in his tail. It was that eerie combination of stillness and anticipation that always put his fur on edge and made him want to yowl for his mother.
But he was no longer a kitten, and his mother was far away. So instead, he did what he had to. He went searching for his mentor. Giving the river one last baleful look, his amber eyes glinting with the knowledge of what was to come, he turned and stalked into the house, every inch the dignified cat, his manner covering over the worry that churned in his stomach.
Once inside, it was an easy matter to find a part of the house still cast in shadows, a part where electric lights and the early morning sun had not yet touched. A closet door, just barely opened, gave him the room he needed to slip inside, into the darkness that only a cat's eyes could truly appreciate. He meowed softly, flicked his whiskers twice, and beat his tail against the floor. Eyes closed, he waited for the response.
The voice insinuated itself into his mind, soft velvet rubbing against his fur. "Why do you call me, Gabriel?"
Gabriel envisioned his mentor sitting in front of him in the darkness, bright green eyes glowing against the crack of dim light from the barely-open door. "I need advice from you," he replied in the same mental manner. Where his mentor's speech was soft velvet, his was new-spun cotton, sunlight to the other's darkness. "The river overflows, and the wards grow weak. They will break tonight, and the shadows will run free. I'm scared, teacher. I'm not ready for this challenge. The shadows are old and powerful, while I am still young and half-trained."
There was a long silence. Then the soft velvet mindtouch was replaced by a cascade of church bells, and the cool feeling of a moonrise. Surprised, Gabriel opened his eyes a slit, and found himself staring into the emerald eyes of an otherwise invisible large black cat. "Prowler!" he exclaimed, his tail flicking in lost composure. He immediately assumed a position of respect in front of his mentor. "How did you…?"
"Shadow-walking is an art you will learn in time, young Gabriel," replied the older feline, his sleek black form separating itself from the shadows. He motioned for his student to rise. "But that is for the future. We are here for today. Show me the problem."
Gabriel slipped out of the closet, and back outside, the larger cat following him silently, whiskers trembling and tail twitching against the magic that wove itself through the area. Back in the house, Gabriel's human companion continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the dangers yet to come, nor of his feline companion's role in the matter.
Together, Gabriel and Prowler sat near the banks of the river, lost in the quiet contemplation of the world that lay over and next to the physical one. It was a world of music and colors and pure sensations, lacking the crass physicality of the mortal plane. It was the world in which all cats spent half their lives, their birthright and responsibility. Simultaneously, Gabriel and Prowler shed their mortal shells, slipping fully into the spirit world. Here, Prowler appeared as black velvet and midnight bells, nighttime magics and dark secrets. Gabriel was his opposite, a creature of soft-spun cotton and wind chimes, sunrise magics and amber threads. Despite their differences, they shared one thing in common: a cat's ability to weave magic and perceive the spirit world.
The two cats contemplated the spirit world before them. It was easy to become lost in the rainbow tapestry and music, easy to forget that it was a realm of pure spirit and magic and that the merest flicking of a tail could effect a profound change. The "bodies" they wore here were spirit reflections of the real world, but just as vulnerable to injury, and even death. Prowler spoke softly with his younger companion, showing him how everything wove together. How a latticework of glowing amber threads spun itself across the quicksilver rapids of the river, and how underneath, the shadows writhed, whispering curses and promising evil.
Even as Prowler and Gabriel watched, the shadows reared back, slamming themselves roughly against the wards imprisoning them within the banks of the river. The amber threads shone brightly, stretching ever so briefly before snapping back into place. The howls of agony and frustration from the shadows echoed all around; however, deep down within, there was a darker chord of building triumph. The latticework appeared frayed in places, knots coming undone and sections losing their color, fading to alabaster as their strength ebbed.
"It's worse than I expected," murmured Prowler, thumping his tail in worry. Around him, the sound of midnight bells grew somber with his mood. "The wards were originally anchored in a much quieter river. In an ideal world, they would have grown stronger with time, not weaker. Unfortunately Man's ill treatment of nature has taken its toll, changing the course of the river, destroying the water's purity, and undermining the magics of old. I can feel it in my whiskers, just as you did. The wards will fail if not rebuilt. The shadows will escape. There will be trouble."
Gabriel didn't bother to disguise his own worry and fear. "Can't we just strengthen the wards?"
"No," replied Prowler. "It is too late to strengthen them. It would be a patchwork job, likely to come undone at an even worse time." He indicated spots in the glowing lattice. The shadows snickered and howled, throwing insults and writhing in anticipation below. "This was powerful tail magic, cast in a time when our spells had more potency, our beliefs stronger. It was before we grew weak and forgetful. It was cast in the time when Man worked with us, before he too forgot his ways."
Gabriel turned his mind back to the lessons Prowler had taught him. It was true. Once there had been a time when catkind and Mankind worked as partners, providing companionship and protection from threats. Mankind had protected the cats from mundane dangers, while cats walked the barriers between the worlds, protecting Mankind from magical and unknown menaces. But time had passed. Man had forgotten, neglecting his duties, remembering them as a mere shadow of the original pact. But the cats had never forgotten. Not all, but many, still honored the old ways. Prowler and Gabriel were two such felines, sworn to defend cat and Man alike from threats of old. The shadows were among the worst of those ancient marauders.
Gabriel was scared, but he tried to hide it behind a sense of duty and pride. "But we can do something, right?"
"I… am not sure," admitted Prowler. "The shadows are weak, after so many years of imprisonment. That is in our favor. But we are just as weak. We've lost a lot of secrets with the passing of seasons, and what tail magics we remember may not be potent enough anymore."
"Then we shall use whisker magic, and heart magic," said Gabriel boldly, fluffing himself up. "We shall use what we have."
That amused Prowler to no end. Suddenly very proud of his apprentice, he said, "You do your line credit. But boldness is little substitute for lack of power. To weave such magics together, under such circumstances, against such enemies…. It can be done, but the price may be high. Too high. I have known tales of cats who have succeeded in efforts like that, only to pour their own life into the making. You could succeed, but die in the process."
"Since when does a cat worry about death?" asked Gabriel with the cocky immortality of youth.
"When he's only in its third life, like you are, and casting these enchantments might require him to sacrifice all of his remaining lives, my friend," said Prowler soberly. "You'd never see your fourth life, much less your ninth."
"Oh." That quieted Gabriel down. He spent a long minute staring into the river's reflection, eyeing the amber energy that was all that stood between the shadows and freedom. He noted how many of the sections had become alabaster, their energy almost completely spent. He saw how many of the latticework intersections were cracked and disjointed. And he saw the shadows, obsidian creatures of infinite depth that twisted and moved in nauseating patterns in their prison. Their numbers were without end, making it impossible to distinguish between one and the next. He contemplated the awful truth. They couldn't cast a new spell of imprisonment until the old one was gone… which meant that the shadows would enjoy several moments of freedom while the new spell was being woven. Unquestionably a messy situation from any viewpoint. Thank the Mother he'd have Prowler there to back him up and watch his back.
Then a sudden, horrifying thought struck him. "Master? Prowler? If the wards here are failing… what about the ones near your home?"
Prowler's head shot up with the realization. "The ones near… Ash and Oak!" he exclaimed. He'd been distracted from his own duties while worrying about this problem! There were even worse things than shadows, and a cluster of them had long been imprisoned under the ground near where he lived. Ten years ago, the mortals had built a swimming pool over the prison, weakening the wards greatly at the time. Now, the pool was empty and in disrepair, the cement in the bottom cracked. It was scheduled for repair in several months, at which time Prowler could easily restrengthen the wards, building on the old ones. He'd spent most of his current life standing guard, making sure that the things below did not escape.
"This storm was a bad one," Gabriel said softly. "I felt an evil in it. Almost as though it was trying to free its brothers from captivity."
"You're more sensitive to these things," admitted Prowler. "My line has always had an affinity for shadow walking and night magics. You, on the other hand, come from a long line of cats proficient in warding spells and day magics, exactly what you'll need in order to succeed." Almost casually, he looked away, following a series of threads that deepened from amber to chocolate. Distance meant little in this realm, and an accomplished cat could work wonders here. He remained like that for several long minutes, viewing the distant spells.
"By the Mother," he whispered suddenly. "You were right." He looked around, tail and whiskers trembling with sudden fear. "I must go."
"Go?" yowled Gabriel. "What do you mean, go? I need you!"
"The spells I swore to watch over are breaking!" exclaimed Prowler. "I have to be there!"
"What about the ones here?"
Prowler stopped in the middle of preparing to return to the mortal plane. He turned to regard Gabriel, emerald eyes bright with power. "This is your duty," he said softly. "Your responsibility… and your test. I regret that it is a matter of such urgency, but I fear that all such tests of your power will be just as urgent, and just as deadly. I have trained you well, Gabriel. I have faith. You will do what you must." With that, he relaxed his perceptions, slipping back into the mortal world and his body. Gabriel followed.
"But I need you… I'm not ready!" yowled Gabriel piteously.
"You must be ready," said Prowler. "Because only you can do this. Do or die, die or do, but follow your nature."
Gabriel sighed, and thumped his tail indignantly. "But," he began, knowing his protests were hopeless.
"Do your best," said Prowler. "We shall meet in the morn if we survive the night." As he spoke, he turned and dashed away. As soon as he'd reached a patch of thick shadows, cast by a willow tree down by the river, he vanished, accompanied by a cascade of discordant bells and a smell of scorched fur. Gabriel winced, guessing that so much ambient light was a detriment to shadow walking. He could only hope that Prowler made it home safely. Unfortunately, he was now left with less than a day to prepare; he had until nightfall, when the wards would break and the shadows would escape. He gave the river another glare, and went back inside, where his human was just now putting out breakfast for him.
As Gabriel ate the canned cat food from the plastic bowl, he let his mind wander. His human was a good person, creative and caring, and curiously eccentric in the manner of all humans. But was he worth possibly dying for? Were any of them? They'd forgotten the old covenants, and turned away from nature. They polluted, destroyed, killed and exploited. They were careless, thoughtless, arrogant, greedy and selfish. They believed themselves superior to all other creatures, and they saw cats as little more than pets. Or did they? Gabriel looked up at his human, smelling the wonderful aroma of bacon sizzling. He succumbed to temptation, yowling with desire.
The human looked down, and smiled. Wonder of wonders, he then tossed Gabriel part of a bacon strip. Ah, humans did have their faults, but occasionally they came through. They weren't without potential, or beyond redemption. He sighed softly, swallowing the treat. There was no denying his nature. Tonight, he would spellweave, no matter the cost.
The rest of the day passed both with maddening slowness and infuriating swiftness. Gabriel anticipated what was to come, yet dreaded it with every hair on his tail. He prepared as best he could, reviewing everything he'd ever been taught in his head as he lay in a patch of sunbeam. The sun soaked into his fur, soothing him and recharging his strength. He offered up silent prayers to the Mother of Cats, and to Helios, and to Luna, asking them to look down on their wayward child and grant him the strength he would need. Later in the day, he made the rounds of the house, exploring it one last time, reveling in the sensations and memorizing it all. For all he knew, it was the last time he'd get to do this. He spent some time with his human, curled up and purring loudly. In this small act, in the happiness of his human, Gabriel took pleasure and strength.
At last, the sun began to set, and night approached. Gabriel ventured outside, sitting down on the lawn and facing the near river. He flicked his tail and whiskers, and once more slipped into the spirit plane. Here, the battle would be fought. The wards would be rewoven, and Gabriel would live or die in this realm. If he lost, the shadows would be free to go wherever they wanted, taking up residence in whatever mortal bodies they found, to spread their evil blight over the world. His would be the first, and his human's the second, most likely.
He would not fail. There was too much at stake.
The shadows threw themselves at the latticework that barred them from the rest of the world, pounding against the spell again and again, over and over, each time the spell growing a tiny bit weaker. Another bar of the lattice faded to alabaster, another joint cracked. The murmuring and whispering of the shadows grew louder, and their song of triumph overwhelmed the pained shrieks as they rebounded off of the magical prison. The sun set slowly, slipping past the horizon without a sound. As the last of its light vanished, the shadows screamed in victory.
The dark song rose to a crescendo, and Gabriel held himself in absolute stillness. All around him, the spirit plane seemed to be waiting. The only song now was that of the shadows as their funeral dirge reached a high point, like a wave about to come crashing down. The shadows hit the amber prison once more, and it began to splinter. There was no hope of fixing it now.
Gabriel took in a breath. The latticework crumbled in slow motion. Gabriel let the breath out as, with a series of sharp cracks, the spell dissolved. The shadows poured free in a tidal wave of ebon malevolence.
In the last few seconds before the oncoming rush overwhelmed him, Gabriel felt a stab of pure, irrational terror. All he wanted to do was lay down and die, just to get it over with. These were creatures from nightmares and legends, myths that had been trapped for much longer than he'd been alive. Who was he, a mere kitten in comparison, to think to stand against them? No, better by far if he tucked his tail under his nose, and waited for the end. If his luck held, it would come quickly. If his luck held, and they didn't just take his body while he was still alive, able to experience the suffering they'd bring.
With a cry born from somewhere deep in his soul, he thrust away the primal fear, channeling all of that adrenaline into aggression. His tail went up in the air, he fluffed out his fur as far as it would go, bared his fangs, and hissed at the oncoming shadows with all the anger he could manage. It didn't slow them in the least, but by the Mother of Cats, it made him feel a lot better. His amber eyes blazed with fire, his fur crackling with electricity as he began weaving his spells.
It was a deadly dance, one forcing Gabriel to move fluidly, leaping high in the air, throwing himself to the ground, manipulating tail and whiskers and body in unison. His tail whipping like an angry snake, he cast a spell to repel the shadows, protecting him from their deadly touch. Here on the spirit plane, he was vulnerable, but only if he allowed it. A song rose about him, a caterwauling that shredded the closest shadows and drove the rest away. But it would not last forever…. Their very touch drained his power, and if they chose to attack en masse, he would not remain safe for long.
The shadows gathered around him, keeping to a safe distance, watching him, staring at him with hungry eyes, whispering a soft undercurrent of threats and unholy promises. They were both audience and jury, and the second he faltered they would overwhelm him. Gabriel danced for his life, every movement another part of the spells that slowly began to rise all about him. Leap in the air, and amber threads followed his movements. Twist and roll on the ground, and where his fur touched, silver formed. Spin around in a circle, and he was rewarded by a shower of rainbow sparkles that hovered in place like miniature stars.
The dark whispering grew louder, unintelligible threats that tried to break his concentration. Gabriel did not, would not, listen to them. In fact, he used the undercurrent of their noise as a platform to raise his own song. He was new-spun cotton, wind chimes, daylight magics and amber threads. They were oil slicks, decaying leaves, ancient murders and fresh betrayals. He was light, they were the darkness rightly feared by the irrational, primal self. He danced to spite them, and the spell began to take shape.
The shadows pressed in closer, their whispers becoming dark laughter. A shadow threw itself forward against the barrier of protection Gabriel had cast, and was torn apart with a hideous shriek. A second one threw itself, likewise dissipating. Then they began to press forward wholesale, one shadow after another testing the barrier. The flashes as they were destroyed grew blinding, like a million flashbulbs going off. Soon there was no end to the screaming and the blinding strobe lights. Gabriel's song of defiance and daylight was rivaled by their anthem of destruction and hatred.
Still he danced and wove his spells, though he could feel exhaustion creeping in. He leapt and spun and rolled, tail acting with a mind of its own, whiskers glowing as amber energy rolled along them. He knew his barrier was weakening rapidly. The shadows grew closer, making it claustrophobic in his little area of safety. The blackness mounted. Gabriel softly regretted that he'd never see another sunrise. Feeling a sense of failure, he murmured a soft apology to Prowler, and to the Mother of Cats.
The shrieking was deafening, a cacophony of deathscreams and claws on chalkboards. It was anathema to a creature of music like Gabriel, his ears flattening backwards in offense. A shadow flung itself against his barrier with gleeful abandon, and was torn apart with a screech to rival the Apocalypse. Concentration broken for a split second, Gabriel faltered.
The song died. The pattern began to break apart. His shield shattered into a million pieces, and the shadows rushed him. Gabriel resumed the spellweaving, but he knew it was too late. The shadows would tear him apart long before he finished. And he accepted his fate. He would die, but he would do so proudly. He threw his anger into one last dead-waking yowl, and danced.
The first shadows reached him, and still he danced. They clawed at his sides, grasped for his tail, tried for his whiskers, and he fluidly moved out of their reach with impossible twists of the torso and inspired leaps. Gold and silver and amber followed him, building a spell that would return these ancient blasphemies to their prison.
They crowded in, muttering victory and obscenities, and he defied them. They clawed and bit, tore strips of flesh from his sides, and he lost himself in the passion of his dancing, his spilled blood only serving to make the spell stronger. Self-sacrifice was the greatest power source of all, and he threw himself into his construct with every fiber of his being.
Then, from all directions, there resonated a dozen, two dozen yowls, echoing his own battle cry. These were not the hatred-born screams of the shadows, but the welcome sound of cats entering the fray. The shadows were split just like that, as cats of every size and color swarmed in, attacking with fang and claw. Shadow after shadow was ripped apart, thrown aside, forced away from Gabriel.
He spared the briefest of glances to his rescuers. An impressively solid black and white cat stunned the shadows, every swipe of his paw doing grievous damage, moving slowly and surely through the mass of evil. A silver-gray tabby moved with blinding speed, taunting and leaping from target to target, sowing confusion and discord among the enemy. A whole swarm of fluffy cream-colored kittens engulfed a shadow, pulling it down and shredding it. A fire-colored cat called up flames, ringing shadows within them, the light of the fire weakening the creatures of darkness. At the edge of his strength, Gabriel knew hope again.
The fire-colored cat saw him. There was a brief second as their gazes locked, and then the fire cat yowled, "There are those who remember the old ways… now finish it, brother!" before turning back to the battle.
Gabriel nodded, throwing himself whole-heartedly back into the half-woven spell. Latticework grew swiftly, fueled by his newfound hope. Silver and amber threads wove themselves into a tapestry, taking anchor and sprouting from the ground, the air, the river, the trees. The spell was a strong one, and he wove it with a confidence he'd never known before. He ignored the sounds of battle, the deathcries of cats, the shrieks of the shadows, and leapt and twisted. Tail magic met whisker magic and was tied together with heart magic, cemented with his blood. He felt a quiet sorrow rip free of his chest, and he realized that his very soul was entangled in the weaving. A second sorrow ripped free, and with an almost calm regret, he knew he'd placed at least two of his lives into this spell. Even if he lived through this, he'd only live seven lives total. A third sorrow slipped free, and he bid it farewell, sending it on its way. If that's what it took…
And now the spell was almost complete, but he had nothing left to give it. His energy was almost completely gone, and he could barely move. He was weak from the effort, and from his injuries. The energy that flowed through him was a trickle. And still he danced. He offered the spell another life, and another, and it took them greedily. That was five lives that he would never lead. All that, and it wanted more, and by the Mother of Cats, it wasn't fair, he didn't want to give it any more. There was no stopping now. Another life slipped free, and he wept. He had but one more to sacrifice, and that was this one. One last piece to the puzzle he'd woven.
It had been a good life, if short.
They would always remember him. Spellweaver. Shadowtrapper. Hero.
Dead.
"Take it, damn you," he whispered with the last of his breath. "Take my life and be complete. Just end this now, please…" He closed his eyes, so no one might watch the last sparks of life fade from them. Maybe the amber would fade to alabaster as the power vanished.
The last sorrow slipped free with his final breath.
The spell activated.
Trapped once more, the shadows were sucked back into their prison with an unholy howl born of defeat and anger and frustration, the danger they posed over at last.
Though sure he was dead, Gabriel felt a cool brush against his cheek, and the tickle of soft whiskers. "Mother," he whispered. He felt like a kitten again, nestled up against his mother, her purr everything he needed. She was his world. There were no shadows, no spells, nothing but the love of a mother.
"You've done well, my child," she told him. "You can rest now. Or…"
"Or?"
"Or you may return, and live out your lives. You may enter your fourth life."
"But I gave them up…"
"And I'm giving you more, my dear brave child. It's my prerogative. You've earned them."
"Can I…?"
"Can you what?"
"Can I… return to my third life? Please?" Gabriel asked softly, hopefully. "It was a good one."
"Would you give up a life to return to that one?"
"Yes, Mother, I would. For my human, who was always good to me. For Prowler, who taught me. And because there was so much left to do."
She chuckled softly, and nudged Gabriel, licking his fur into place. Gently, the Mother of Cats replied, "You are truly one of my children. Go home, Gabriel. Go back to your life, Gabriel the spellweaver, and make me proud of you."
Gabriel didn't even have time to thank her, before he was awake again, on the spirit plane, surrounded by the cats who had come to his aid. The fire-colored cat bowed and the rest likewise honored him. Among cats, warriors were common, and all of them had at least a touch of magic. But spellweavers were special. And he was no longer an apprentice, but a full-fledged spellweaver.
There were no speeches or lengthy celebrations. Bone-tired and injured, the cats padded away silently, secure in the feeling of victory, slipping one by one back to the mortal world. Gabriel was the last to go. There was a quiet, peaceful feel to the spirit realm.
The river was back down to its normal levels, and the sun was just rising over the mountains. It was a crisp, clear, cool day, with only a few clouds in the sky, and a feeling of peace in the air. Gabriel was pleased as he went inside. He was ravenous from his efforts, and he decided to wake his human, make him uphold his end of the pact for once. Once Gabriel had regained some strength, he'd check on Prowler, see if his mentor had been successful with his own tasks. After that, who knew? The future looked promising.
And in a realm far removed from that one, a Mother smiled warmly, proud of her children.
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Rainbow
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 1761
- Registado: sexta mar 05, 2004 2:00 pm
- Localização: Um cão(Rugas)
Esta nem merece comentários...É triste não ter o que fazer...danielvarum Escreveu: Talvez, pode ser ficção científica como nos filmes... qualquer dia seremos nós os rafeiros das "mijas" pelo chão da casa e os cães a chamarem-nos "snoopy, snoopy, snoopy, anda ao papá!"... !
Agora, não há indicios disso... mas... um simples arroto pode mudar tudo!
Era uma pena... cry (
<p>Os animais são pessoas como as pessoas são animais</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
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kitten
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 5667
- Registado: domingo mar 10, 2002 10:04 pm
- Localização: muitos !!!!!
Mas, Rainbow, as férias escolares ainda agora começaram.Rainbow Escreveu:Esta nem merece comentários...É triste não ter o que fazer...danielvarum Escreveu: Talvez, pode ser ficção científica como nos filmes... qualquer dia seremos nós os rafeiros das "mijas" pelo chão da casa e os cães a chamarem-nos "snoopy, snoopy, snoopy, anda ao papá!"... !
Agora, não há indicios disso... mas... um simples arroto pode mudar tudo!
Era uma pena... cry (
Não há pachorra para tanta asneira, arre.
Para quem não entende, o que se segue é a minha assinatura
http://apterrariofilia.org/
Se algum dia sentir um vazio dentro de si ... vá comer que é fome !!!
Madalena Marques
http://apterrariofilia.org/
Se algum dia sentir um vazio dentro de si ... vá comer que é fome !!!
Madalena Marques
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Rainbow
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 1761
- Registado: sexta mar 05, 2004 2:00 pm
- Localização: Um cão(Rugas)
Mas será que agora já não se vai à praia ou passear com os amigos?kitten Escreveu:Mas, Rainbow, as férias escolares ainda agora começaram.Rainbow Escreveu:Esta nem merece comentários...É triste não ter o que fazer...danielvarum Escreveu: Talvez, pode ser ficção científica como nos filmes... qualquer dia seremos nós os rafeiros das "mijas" pelo chão da casa e os cães a chamarem-nos "snoopy, snoopy, snoopy, anda ao papá!"... !
Agora, não há indicios disso... mas... um simples arroto pode mudar tudo!
Era uma pena... cry (
Não há pachorra para tanta asneira, arre.
Esta juventude de agora só quer saber dos computadores... :p
<p>Os animais são pessoas como as pessoas são animais</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
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kitten
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 5667
- Registado: domingo mar 10, 2002 10:04 pm
- Localização: muitos !!!!!
Pois é Rainbow, infelizmente para nós.
Para quem não entende, o que se segue é a minha assinatura
http://apterrariofilia.org/
Se algum dia sentir um vazio dentro de si ... vá comer que é fome !!!
Madalena Marques
http://apterrariofilia.org/
Se algum dia sentir um vazio dentro de si ... vá comer que é fome !!!
Madalena Marques
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isabelnobre
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 629
- Registado: sábado jan 25, 2003 1:09 am
- Localização: 2 cadelas cdp, Angie e Lua , uma tartaruga
Pois é eu também vi esse filme, chama-se "Entre cães e gatos". 
Mas é um filme ok, não é a sério!
Mas é um filme ok, não é a sério!
Apesar de acahar que este post não tem sentido, acho que voces não deviam achar mal que os jovens usem este forum, e se estão aqui, ninguem os pode impedir...
voces tambem nao podem criticar aqueles que fazem perguntas sem nexo, pois voces também as fazem também!!!
Bjokas,
Ritinha
voces tambem nao podem criticar aqueles que fazem perguntas sem nexo, pois voces também as fazem também!!!
Bjokas,
Ritinha
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VascoV
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 5619
- Registado: terça dez 11, 2001 8:41 pm
- Localização: Politicos com anti-rábica em dia
- Contacto:
Fale por si....ritanova Escreveu: Apesar de acahar que este post não tem sentido, acho que voces não deviam achar mal que os jovens usem este forum, e se estão aqui, ninguem os pode impedir...
voces tambem nao podem criticar aqueles que fazem perguntas sem nexo, pois voces também as fazem também!!! roll
Bjokas,
Ritinha
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Miadores
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 2295
- Registado: sábado mar 08, 2003 9:21 pm
- Localização: siameses, europeus comuns, cadela SRD
Vocês não têm sentido de humor nenhum, minha gente! Levem na desportiva! 
Decididamente estão sempre a aparecer coisas inesperadas! eheheheh
A cabeça das pessoas é um mundo!!!! Extraordinário!!!! :p :p :p
<p>MALHINHAS para sempre no meu coracao!</p>
<p>To the world you may be one, to the one you may be the world!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To the world you may be one, to the one you may be the world!</p>
<p> </p>
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Rainbow
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 1761
- Registado: sexta mar 05, 2004 2:00 pm
- Localização: Um cão(Rugas)
Aqui ninguém critica os jovens que participam neste fórum.Apenas se criticam algumas perguntas, e a forma como são feitas.Se o autor do tópico tivesse feito a pergunta de outra forma,as respostas teriam sido outras.ritanova Escreveu: Apesar de acahar que este post não tem sentido, acho que voces não deviam achar mal que os jovens usem este forum, e se estão aqui, ninguem os pode impedir...
voces tambem nao podem criticar aqueles que fazem perguntas sem nexo, pois voces também as fazem também!!! roll
Bjokas,
Ritinha
<p>Os animais são pessoas como as pessoas são animais</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
<p>Teixeira de Pascoaes</p>
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leoa_nova_
- Membro Veterano
- Mensagens: 2726
- Registado: quarta dez 17, 2003 10:42 pm
- Localização: Muitos
Se ñ faz já as fez, ñ no fórum mas na escola, em casa, aos pais, avós, tios, etc. Todos as fazem ninguém nasce sabido!!VascoV Escreveu:Fale por si....ritanova Escreveu: Apesar de acahar que este post não tem sentido, acho que voces não deviam achar mal que os jovens usem este forum, e se estão aqui, ninguem os pode impedir...
voces tambem nao podem criticar aqueles que fazem perguntas sem nexo, pois voces também as fazem também!!! roll
Bjokas,
Ritinha