a night shrouded | dream



The day has worn her and the night has come. Tired and taxed the molly of darkness and soft kissed light finally turns to her den. Her den. A place that is solitude and quiet. It'd almost unnerving as she is not yet used to not having another cat to share warmth with. Alone. It solidifies her station here. The path she must tread separately from the rest of the clan. Stepping past a current of ferns she pads along the stone before it opens up into the wide open area. Water trickles into the pool that she sits and stares at endlessly. The sound may be soothing for some but she finds it almost grating with the way things have been going. A soft sigh pulls from her throat as she settled down in her nest. She is not one to fall asleep too quickly but tonight it is as if sleep clutches at her mind so tightly she falls asleep almost instantly.

Her eyes open up and it appears as if the day has already begun. There is plenty of chatter and yet she can not remember what she has been doing. Bone's molten hues look almong faceless cats and she frowns trying to understand when the sky darkens suddenly. Too fast for it to be normal. Fear streaks through her as the wind begins to pick up and she turns to yowl a warning to the others in camp but there is no one else here. She's alone again and this time when she looks back she isn't in camp anymore. A massive tree stands before her, a familiar tree but she has no time to question it. Jagged light streaks through and blinds her, making her flatten to the ground. Panting she tries to get away and then everything is searing red. Roaring in her ears.


The molly awakens with a gasp, the dream fading away but leaving a acrid smell of smoke behind. Her pupils are large and she stumbles from her nest as dawn breaks across the sky. Her long legs shake but she pushes herself from her den and suddenly she stops and sits in the middle of camp. Her head up and her eyes on the fading stars of the night sky. A dream so vivid. ".....Starclan...?


The garnet-colored femme had awakened to join a dawn patrol and slipped from the warriors' den when she blinked in surprise to see Bonejaw up and simply sitting in the middle of the camp, eyes cast upwards towards the dawning sky.

The healer mumbles something that Firedawn can't quite make out, and so the warrior trots over to the molly, her gaze concerned, "Bonejaw, are you alright?" She would look over to make sure the patrol wasn't ready and waiting on her, before turning back to give the medicine cat her full attention, "Was it Starclan?... Did they show you something?" She wondered for a moment if she should run to get Briarstar.

Flickerfire, like Firedawn, had been prepared to leave camp. On a patrol? Hell no. She'd been toying with the idea of a solo hunt, or an excursion to the Carrionplace, for no reason but to stretch her paws. She even considered bugging Dawnpaw or Hailpaw to accompany her, but then decided not to - after all, if she wanted to go to the ThunderClan border, she'd have to ...

Dark ears twitch at the strange, questioning note in Bonejaw's voice as the young warrior passes her by. She turns, expression puzzled. "Huh? What'd you say to me?"

Had she been talking to herself? Bonejaw was losing it, for sure. Flickerfire can't imagine having dreams with dead cats all the time. She doesn't want to imagine it. The dead should stay dead... should stay buried in your mind. It's what she does, and it works. Works wonders, in fact.

Firedawn stops to comfort the black and white molly, asking if StarClan had sent her a vision. Flickerfire frowns. Is that really what the cats at Fourtrees had died for? To send visions of things that could happen? To give lives to leaders so they could die more than once?

The tortoiseshell fixes skeptical orange eyes on the medicine cat. "Y'sure you didn't get a piece of crowfood by accident? Always gives me the weirdest dreams." Sometimes she's so hungry she doesn't even notice if the prey isn't fresh or healthy. It's happened more than once; she has an iron stomach. Even that weird owl Sootstar had caught ages ago had only troubled her a small amount.


Moving to stand beside Flickerfire, she’d watch the medicinecat with a puzzled expression. While she too had been sleeping less than perfect, she was still at least making an attempt. At the current moment Hailpaw could only view Bonejaw as a lunatic. She had yet to truly learn about and understand Starclan, so to her it was rather pitiful. Talking to dead cats? Please. “What’s wrong with you?” Pressing, she would glance between the gathered cats before tossing Flickerfire a questioning glance, waiting to see what the medicinecat had to say for herself.

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