oneshot DON'T WAKE ME, I'M NOT DREAMING ✿ oneshot


✿—— she awakes in the night from half-formed dreams of the rusty things buried in the terrain of her mind; nightmares, really, of gnashing pearly teeth and foamy jaws. of a sun-touched form in a spreading pool of blood? perhaps she fears this too, though she wouldn't let herself think of it as fear. the new nursery is alive with evening rustles in the greenleaf wind she can feel on her muzzle in the dark; this night when some of their clan's most capable trek to fourtrees, the moon hangs its melancholy face in the perfect center of the sky above. the night feels busy tonight, a living thing blowing gentle breath through her fur; she feels like an insect in the face of the starry sky's silent, knowing power. suddenly she feels the need to get out, to feel that wind fresh on her face in the peaceful quiet of the slumbering camp.

a pink nose is pressed gently to the heads of the indistinguishable bundles pressed to her side, three perfect spots of light with fur like smoky skies now beginning to lose its kitten softness. the needles of her (new, or not anymore? that's the question) home slip under paws that are for once silent, padding with all the quiet elegance of a not-yet-startled doe out of the nursery. silken fur falls against the gentle curve of her spine with the barest whisper as she seats herself, settled on still-soft haunches with a tapered muzzle tilted up, limned in the quicksilver light of the ascending full moon. for once, she does not fret about how she looks or what she's thinking; her mind is a still pond carrying only the slightest of ripples, a calm only afforded her here, alone.

she wants to capture this moment, this moon, in her paws; to clutch the sky's silver eye to her chest with soft pads, hold this moment and wrap herself in it like one of her twoleg's warm pelts. the moon will wane in time, just as time will; pregnancy gives way to the full moon of her kittens, who in another moon's time will vanish into apprenticeship. away from her, she thinks with a twinge; from sunny afternoons and fluffy pelts to adolescent angst and spiky fur. she knows this, she realizes it fully with a slight jolt; time will not stop for her, will not make an exception for her grasping paws. her kittens are growing up, just like she had, just like many would after them; far too fast. the moon will not stand still in the sky for her.

another realization seizes her mind with a gentle sort of madness; the moon moves for her, too. days have waxed and waned without giving him much more than a passing thought, days in which she has felt happiness without having to fight for it. silver light dapples her lilac fur with the coolness of a midsummer night; suddenly the aromatic scent of herbs is in her nose without really being there, memories of another midnight conversation with someone other than herself. she dismisses the thoughts creeping around the edges of the scent, and they go with little complaint; thoughts quickly becoming used to being dismissed. a lightness makes itself at home in her chest instead, making her feel as though she's risen into the trees like a bird instead of remaining pinned to the ground.

freedom, she realizes. the feeling is freedom. freedom to do as she likes, to carry out her training with blazestar or spend her days in the nursery raising kits, to have a jay for a meal tomorrow or a squirrel if she prefers it. the freedom to feel safe without feeling trapped, to have a thick tail pressed to her shoulder in a passing touch; to be protected but also to protect. to make friends. yes, her kits are growing and changing, but she will too; as they receive their apprentice names and begin their puppy crushes, she has freedom. the freedom to grow, to feel the gentle touch of the wind in soft fur, to learn how to use her claws for something besides nest-making. the freedom to love again, even, though she avoids entertaining that thought.

it's a freedom, she realizes, with a welcome weight to it. one she never thought she might feel, not to a group of the wildcats her fellow kittypets had spun feral tales of; loyalty, too, alongside the lightness of that freedom. running deep, deeper than she had ever thought, a promise heavy in her chest, heavy to her heart. a promise, for once, she's sure she wants to make. when she learns to turn her claws on another, it will not be the feral motiveless battles of a rogue or the play spats of angry kittypets; it will be strikes with a weight, a weight she now realizes has been there since the day of that dog attack. perhaps even the day they'd found her on their territory, pregnant and alone, without skills to her name; just another mouth to feed, but they'd taken her in. her heart, always opened to find nothing but hurt, has found a safe home.

she doesn't even know she's crying until she feels warmth on her jaw. her investigating paws find damp trails making their way down her face, and she's startled, as though she's found blood instead of simple tears. she'd always thought of herself as an emotional cat, perhaps too emotional, but ..... when was the last time she'd cried? really cried, not held them in her eyes or blinked them away—she can't remember, maybe doesn't want to remember. so she lets herself, sits and soaks up the moonlight with tears falling easily down her face, displaying the emotion she can't describe.

when it's over she feels clean, almost hollow, emptied out. it's not an unwelcome feeling, the tears finally dried on her cheeks. perhaps, she thinks, a faint, ghostly thought, tears are not always bad; perhaps these tears are preparing her, making room inside her heart for the future and all it brings. a branch snaps, pulling her back to the present and the cats who might still wake and breathe; she retreats with a last longing look to the solemn moon-eye, back into the nursery. now her sleep is dreamless, the faintest phantoms of nightmares driven away, at least for tonight, by that simple lightness: freedom.


  • ooc: aaaah my girl is at 100 posts!!!! WHAT
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  • ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins
    she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s
    —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred..
    —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim
    —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles
    penned by dejavudesklamp9 on discord for plots
  • shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

 
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