- Aug 1, 2022
- 214
- 46
- 28
cw for abuse flashback & water-related trauma
A S H P A W.
It ends with a scream.
For most of the dream she's crying, she's desperately crying, but she isn't screaming—she knows to keep quiet as he slams her small body into the ground, as he snarls threats and digs claws in and hurts her however he pleases. Silent sobs wrack her shoulders. Silent tears soak the sand.
But when he yanks her up by the scruff, lifting dull green eyes toward the river, the image that flashes before her is a bloodied calico body on the bank. And finally a scream does rise in her throat—no more secrets to keep, nothing to hide now, because she's already failed—
The death blow has already landed.
She jerks awake and reality hits her, and bites the scream back, clamps her whole body down around it so it doesn't escape. Stay quiet stay quiet stay quiet. Don't wake them, don't wake anyone up, quiet—
Ashpaw scrambles from her nest, breathing heavily, and staggers into the night. The leaf-bare chill hits her like a fallen tree, sinking right down to her bones, and a shiver sets in.
She presses herself into the shadows, creeping from the apprentice's den to the warrior's den—and once she's crept inside, seeks out a familiar scent. She clambers into the nest, little shaking form pressing up close to her mentor's, cowering there.
Safe here, she tells herself. Safe, safe, safe.
Willowroot smells a little different these days. She smells more like Poppysplash and more like milk. Ashpaw knows that Willowroot is going to have kittens. She latches onto that thought—desperate for anything to drown out the memories.
(Drowning. Curses, threats, hissing in her ear—sharp claws digging into her scruff, shoving her under the river's surface, holding her down—she chokes and hacks up water when he finally pulls her up, shaking with miserable sobs.)
Ashpaw bites down hard on the cries that form in her throat, pressing her face into Willowroot's fur. No, no, don't think about that. Ashpaw is safe. She's safe here. He can't—
He can't ever again.
Kittens, she reminds herself. Willowroot is gonna have kittens. They'll—they'll be like Ashpaw's little baby siblings. They'll look like Willowroot and Poppysplash. It'll be awesome.
Think about nice things, she tells herself, clinging to Willowroot's flank. Think about nice things like kittens and not Spiderfall and not drowning and not pain.
Think about Willowroot's gentle voice, Willowroot grooming her, Willowroot purring.
She doesn't know how long she lies awake, but after a little while, Willow's scent and warmth and soft steady breathing lull her into calm. She relaxes bit by bit, ginger hackles falling, and her own breathing slows to match her mentor's.
She's safe here.
She's safe.
For most of the dream she's crying, she's desperately crying, but she isn't screaming—she knows to keep quiet as he slams her small body into the ground, as he snarls threats and digs claws in and hurts her however he pleases. Silent sobs wrack her shoulders. Silent tears soak the sand.
But when he yanks her up by the scruff, lifting dull green eyes toward the river, the image that flashes before her is a bloodied calico body on the bank. And finally a scream does rise in her throat—no more secrets to keep, nothing to hide now, because she's already failed—
The death blow has already landed.
She jerks awake and reality hits her, and bites the scream back, clamps her whole body down around it so it doesn't escape. Stay quiet stay quiet stay quiet. Don't wake them, don't wake anyone up, quiet—
Ashpaw scrambles from her nest, breathing heavily, and staggers into the night. The leaf-bare chill hits her like a fallen tree, sinking right down to her bones, and a shiver sets in.
She presses herself into the shadows, creeping from the apprentice's den to the warrior's den—and once she's crept inside, seeks out a familiar scent. She clambers into the nest, little shaking form pressing up close to her mentor's, cowering there.
Safe here, she tells herself. Safe, safe, safe.
Willowroot smells a little different these days. She smells more like Poppysplash and more like milk. Ashpaw knows that Willowroot is going to have kittens. She latches onto that thought—desperate for anything to drown out the memories.
(Drowning. Curses, threats, hissing in her ear—sharp claws digging into her scruff, shoving her under the river's surface, holding her down—she chokes and hacks up water when he finally pulls her up, shaking with miserable sobs.)
Ashpaw bites down hard on the cries that form in her throat, pressing her face into Willowroot's fur. No, no, don't think about that. Ashpaw is safe. She's safe here. He can't—
He can't ever again.
Kittens, she reminds herself. Willowroot is gonna have kittens. They'll—they'll be like Ashpaw's little baby siblings. They'll look like Willowroot and Poppysplash. It'll be awesome.
Think about nice things, she tells herself, clinging to Willowroot's flank. Think about nice things like kittens and not Spiderfall and not drowning and not pain.
Think about Willowroot's gentle voice, Willowroot grooming her, Willowroot purring.
She doesn't know how long she lies awake, but after a little while, Willow's scent and warmth and soft steady breathing lull her into calm. She relaxes bit by bit, ginger hackles falling, and her own breathing slows to match her mentor's.
She's safe here.
She's safe.
—— " i found gold in the wreckage "
-
@willowroot
feel free to have willow be woken up or timeskip to morning, whichever u prefer! -
- 6 month old orange tabby with green eyes
- apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
- happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
- very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
- "speech" -
- disclosed being physically and emotionally abused by Spiderfall, who was exiled & who then killed her best friend
- spent a couple months depressed
- returned to ic/ooc activify
