agoraphobia // featherpaw

[sunlitpaw]

The medicine cat's den had been a place that Sunlitpaw was rather adamant on avoiding. She knew it was the most likely place she would stumble into Wolfsong, and if she was exceptionally unlucky, Sunstride as well. They loved their dir, they didn't fear him nearly as much as they currently feared Sunstride, but his judgement would weigh just as heavy on trembling shoulders and Sunlitpaw wasn't confident that they would be able to handle that. Featherpaw and Rivepaw were others that they skirted their gaze away from, but not for sake of disappointing them - the optimist in Sunlitpaw wishes to say they would never be so harsh on her, but the overwhelming darkness swarming her head whispered to her that their wounds and bedboundness was heavily weighed by her own paws. By her own inaction. Who could she have saved, what scar could she have prevented, if she had just been brave enough to step in front of a swinging paw. She'd only seen it from her mentor, had only seen it from other apprentices - it terrified her then, it petrified her after. Maybe she would deserve a scar of her own then, for being so slow and cowardly and useless. Sunlitpaw had become a bit skilled at weaving gorse, repairing walls - what good was it to rebuild, to fortify, everything she was sworn to protect but just couldn't?

Sunlitpaw's pathetic wallowing sat heavier and heavier on their back with every passing sunrise. Every hour. Every minute. Just existing in camp had swiftly become a source of anxiety for the apprentice, trying to avoid anyone who might seek her out. It was not wise, no, it was a horrible idea - isolation only made Sunlitpaw more anxious, more avoidant, more desperate to hide from the truth. This pushed the apprentice out on any hunting patrol with room, staunchly avoiding border patrols. Conflict was the absolute last thing Sunlitpaw would want. Hunting was almost relaxing, if she ignored the fact that she was killing something. It was wanted, she was thanked, she was told she was working hard, and while she was hidden in the moor grasses there was no one to disturb her or speak to her. Just herself and her overbearing, overwhelming, awful thoughts. But it was better than the stress of any others around her.

For all their hiding and shirking away, though, it did not make Sunlitpaw feel good. No, quite the opposite, they felt quite awful avoiding family they knew loved them deeply. Wolfsong and Sunstride were both deeply occupied with their own duties in the Clan, preventing death in their own way. Greater, more noble things than Sunlitpaw could ever possibly achieve. Rivepaw and Bearpaw, admittedly, Sunlitpaw had not been keeping much tabs on. They rarely spoke to Bearpaw, and Rivepaw - they could not face her, face someone that was what Sunlitpaw desperately wanted to be. Featherpaw, though - Sunlitpaw had swallowed the anxiety they had been chewing on like cud all day, departing from the hunting patrol they had returned to camp with and making a straight line toward Wolfsong's den. It was not an unfamiliar sight, to see the most recent hunting party taking it's nicest kill to the injured. This evening, it would be a bit of a special delivery.

Sunlitpaw slipped into the medicine cat's den with their gaze fixed firmly on their paws, a surprisingly fattened mouse between their teeth. They stalled at the entrance, half-expecting their dir to speak up and greet them - or chastise them, they supposed. But the den was silent, save for the gentle breathing of cats curled in temporary nests. Spring green eyes slowly raise to take in their surroundings, flitting over pelts and covered wounds searching for their sister. Their heart thrummed in their ears as they searched, and when they found the familiar chocolate ears of Featherpaw, the rush of blood drowning out their hearing ebbed lightly. The sun was just beginning to set, and Featherpaw's sleep had never come easy - hopefully she would still be awake. Weaving through the bodies in the den, Sunlitpaw approached Featherpaw, dropping the mouse delicately in front of the tabby's nest. "Hi, Featherpaw," Sunlitpaw speaks barely above a whisper, lowering themselves down and tucking their front paws beneath their chest. It had been so long since they had been in this position to see their sibling, huddling in their dir's den and sharing quiet words together. It made Sunlitpaw's chest ache. "I um, brought you some food..." Sunlitpaw trails off, eyes stinging. She blinks her eyes rapidly, confused and alarmed by the tears trying to spring forth. She offers a timid smile with her wet eyes, leaning forward to nudge her injured sibling with her head.

"I missed you. Are you healing okay? When will you be released? What - who did that to you? Are they -" are they alive, the question hovers on their tongue, but they swiftly bat it back. Words spewed forth without filter, more than Sunlitpaw had spoken at once in a handful of sunrises. "Are you... okay, after everything?"
​

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, ———— 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚.

• @FEATHERPAW ​

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  sunlitpaw

  
  

  — they / she, moor-runner apprentice of windclan. mentored by no-one
  — a large yet timid chocolate tabby-tortoiseshell with spring green eyes
  — sunstride x wolfsong, sibling to rivepaw, bearpaw, singedpaw, & featherpaw
  — full length tags
  — penned by izanami, contact on discord @nullmoons for plots or threads :)

  ​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

Featherpaw was getting rather tired of visitors. Not because they were completely unwelcome, but because he found himself somewhat unable to function in the face of genuine, selfless kindness. Who wanted to waste their time sitting around with a patient? That was the medicine cat's job. But Sunlitpaw was one he could meet with a little bit more sympathy, a little bit more understanding. Had they been stuck in the medicine cat's den, healing from an injury, Featherpaw was sure she would hover. Yellow eyes would flicker every second to the mouth of the den to ensure there was no panic, and she would steal glances whenever she could to check that steady recovery was being made.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, hating how small she felt and sounded. He let his sibling nuzzle into it, offering them all the comfort he could give, but Featherpaw was all the while withdrawn and silent. Sunlitpaw's questions flooded through like a torrent, and Featherpaw patiently awaited their conlucion so she could answer them all. The prickly pelt along his spine, now broken up by scarring, felt like it was made of stinging nettles. Are you okay? The last question lingered like an insect bite, itchy and irritating. Featherpaw's snow-tipped tail twitched.

"It's alright. I'll b-b-be out soon, b-buh- but it'll scar. It was Nightmareface." Pausing, Featherpaw's whiskers grew taut. White paws pushed a pattern into the earth, mindless tapping. "I... wish I hadn't screamed so much." It was a funny thing to admit, but- she and Sunlitpaw had always ended up admitting things to each other. Everything that came with that wishing, he did not say- Featherpaw hardly knew the genesis of it in the first place. ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[sunlitpaw]

Normally not a particularly talkative type, Sunlitpaw is familiar with observing others and their body language, letting the movement of ears and tails speak before their mouths do. This was a skill learned and quickly refined on their family; Featherpaw had never been their most candid of littermates. Her tail twitches, and their eyes slide to the side to watch it settle back into place. Sunlitpaw knew it wasn't a pleasant question to mull over. To any other cat they would've well known to keep quiet, even the likes of their other siblings. She considers saying "nevermind", parts her mouth to brush the hurdles of questions off as an unnecessary rush of emotions that didn't need to be fed further, but instead Featherpaw speaks and soothes her mind. Sunlitpaw's shoulders slump in ill-hidden relief, lowering their head to rest it on the edge of their sister's nest. It feels nostalgic, and despite (or perhaps even because of) the heat in their chest, one of the stinging tears they'd been blinking back slides free down their mottled cheek. They aren't sure why - maybe the affirmation that Featherpaw is fine, maybe the easy sense of old days talking quietly to them in the medicine den, maybe a sense of grief that Sunlitpaw could do nothing to help him or stop him from being dropped in Wolfsong's den again.

"Scars are cool," Sunlitpaw murmurs, although the lie burns her tongue as she says it, lingers like a spice. Scars are cool... well... on those she didn't love. Scars were a sign of bravery, of hardship, of a will to survive... Sunlitpaw felt as though their own lack of markings felt incredibly telling of such things. Cats like Scorchstreak and Periwinklebreeze wore their survival on their skin. Featherpaw did now, too. A permanent reminder of Nightmareface, a reminder until they were elders in their sunset moons, that Featherpaw had defied what was pushed onto him. They want to ask about Nightmareface - they don't recall the name among the name of surviving loyalists, but neither do they recall seeing them as a lifeless heap - but even with Featherpaw, Sunlitpaw knows when enough is enough in a line of questioning. Death would find Nightmareface if it hadn't, yet. Like the sheep at the horseplace, lost without a shepherd. Just a swarm of bodies and motion. Without Sootstar to follow, maybe they'd all walk in circles until they died.

A small confession follows, and Sunlitpaw's ears fall to her ears. "But... it hurt," although they're sure Featherpaw knew such a thing. The sun-dappled apprentice sniffles, rubbing at a tired eye with a frosty paw. "And Nightmareface... was a lot bigger than you. That's... that's a brave thing. To fight her. And you won, right? You didn't..." Sunlitpaw trails off, hesitant to even speak such an idea. The word alone makes the fur along her spine raise. "Die." They suck in a deep breath, forcing their fur to settle back down. "If it... Um... If it makes you feel better, Featherpaw, I - I... I -" Spit it out, Sunlitpaw. Your brother is being open with you, honest - do the same. "I... Didn't fight. I hid. I couldn't, Featherpaw, I was so, so scared, I thought I was going to die and that you and Rivepaw and father were going to die and I just... I couldn't do it. I couldn't fight." Sunlitpaw knows, deep somewhere in her fragile chest, that if she had been ripped from her hiding place in the tunnels she would've been shredded and killed. Sunlitpaw would not have stood a single chance, far too afraid to raise her own claws. "No one... I promise no one cares you screamed. Everyone only cares you're okay. You might've screamed because it hurt, but you lived through it and even healed. That's strong, right?" Sunlitpaw hesitates, shuffling their paws. A worry prickles the back of their mind that Featherpaw might spread their secret, a reactive fear. Sunlitpaw knows better than to feed the thought; Featherpaw would never betray them like that.
​

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, ———— 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚.

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  sunlitpaw

  
  

  — they / she, moor-runner apprentice of windclan. mentored by no-one
  — a large yet timid chocolate tabby-tortoiseshell with spring green eyes
  — sunstar x wolfsong, sibling to rivepaw, bearpaw, singedpaw, & featherpaw
  — full length tags
  — penned by izanami, contact on discord @nullmoons for plots or threads :)

  ​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

Scars are cool. Featherpaw snorted, clearly not buying it. The amount of times someone had said that- well, if he had a mouse for every mention, you could roll him up Outlook Rock. But then Sunlitpaw was speaking more, and Featherpaw's gaze lingered on her sibling's face for a long while. Admittances tumbled from her throat. Reassurances, too. Featherpaw always found it difficult to be icy around her family- they were who she steeled herself to protect, after all. What lay in the chocolate tom's signature scowl was not anger, was not disappointment, but understanding.

"If you c-c-couldn't, then i'm glad you duh-didn't," Featherpaw said, her expression strangely neutral. A long few moments passed, stretching toward the horizon like fox-lengths. He didn't want to insult his littermate- didn't want to utter something patronising like, you weren't ready. He'd hardly been ready himself.

Featherpaw swallowed. "I only c-cuh-care that you're alright." She murmured it quietly, as if she was embarrassed to be overheard- but there was a glimmer of sincerity in her tone that she hopped Sunlitpaw might grasp onto. "Tuh... to have even seen something like that- you're stronger for it than any stupid other-Clan apprentice. I..." He cleared his throat, a gravelly little noise. Stiffly, Featherpaw spoke with earnest. "WindClan's starting again. Whatever we did in that buh... buh... battle, whatever we d-didn't do, we'll... never have to face it again. Not with Sunstar leading us." It was the best reassurance he could give- stony and matter-of-fact, but he meant every word. ​

✦ penned by pin​