- Jul 24, 2023
- 213
- 48
- 28
✦ Dogbite didn't know why he thought it wouldn't affect him—not seeing her anymore. He had lived with death from a young age, and the devastation never eased. Dread cascaded heavily, muddying what was left. Sometimes, it felt like there was no air to breathe; other times, a numbing miasma enveloped him, leaving him to wade through thoughts and silence, ignoring the relentless pit of doom until it consumed him. Every time, the loss hit at his core, a black hole sinking in and strangling him into silence. He couldn't voice what hurt, even if it was thoughtless name-calling. Nothing big or world-ending, just little insignificants growing into piles of significants, feeding the hole and thickening the clouds of denial until he crashed. Eyes up. Look down. Eyes up. Sniffing. Robotic.
Out hunting alone near Riverclan—or supposed to be—his pelt grew stuffy as nerves ignited. Freedom from the suffocation inside was all he sought, blown into technicolor by images of mangled bodies. What was left of his friend-not-friend or maybe more-than-friend? It was never clear, but he had experienced it, dreamed of it, yearned for it. Unspoken pining as fresh as the moment he hissed it sheepishly between clenched fangs.
Reflecting back, he saw an uninjured Bobbie grinning ear to ear and Blazestar's warm gaze blanketing them. How he had wished he could've spared them all the agony. To cross between fabrics of reality, warning them of the dangers, and cling to them for dear life if they dare not listen. A fantasy at best. Shamefully, he looked away from another tragedy, a loss faded into the background of memories. Emotions just as palpable but destined to fade nonetheless, like the others. His paws hesitantly stepped over the scent line to Twoleg place, cutting the metaphorical line between safe choices and poor decisions. He had avoided anymore visits after Hollypaw was assigned to him and at last they had a second to slip away. I just need to breathe. Scrunching down, his muscles bunched and snapped forward, pads connecting to familiar dusty and prickly textures.
Anxiety rose his blood pressure even higher, legs growing unsteady on the wooden stakes. What if I get caught this time?
Timidly, he turned to peer back into Skyclan territory, scanning each gap in the trees for potential shapes or gleaming eyes. When none arose, his fur settled into uneven ridges. Too late to turn back now. Rationalizing, Dogbite walked, then trotted, and eventually sprinted across the fence. A bit rusty on balancing at first, muscle memory soon picking up the slack. The cinnamon and white tabby's pelt flashed past endless rows of dens. His good eye peeked at a small slope just ahead, leading to the black tarry top that had previously ended his life as a loner. They had been avoiding that street for awhile but tonight it called to them. A day or so travel along its path, and they would be right back at the start of it all. Again, his thrumming heart rumbled, his breathing quickened.
It's not where I should want to be, but I don't want to go home.
Indecision burned the corners of his gaze as his small moment of confidence fizzled into regret. I've got to control myself. He knew he wasn't expected back by anyone in particular but there was always doubt. Dutiful and quiet, the Lead Warrior asked few questions while following the rules religiously. What a joke. Praying to the cats of old, hoping to join them too. Why would they let a stranger in? His chest burned with shame. Clan life was different, and he'd laid those demons to rest. Put all dreams and ambitions into a life of love and strife. Somewhere he didn't have to sleep alone and shiver at the thought of who would hurt him next.
Given they were no stranger to fighting and clashing, a wild-eyed ferocity could be summoned in the gnarliest of scraps, but deep down they hated it. Despised the terror coursing through his blood and the numbing fear in his opponent's gaze. Clan rivalry was personal and proven to be just as lethal. Sucking in a deep breath, the dappled Lead shook a bedraggled head, failing to fight off the anxieties. There's only so much moonlight left. Keeping his neck even with the horizon, they slid past building corners and cruised deeper into forgotten territory. A recognizable arch signified the old marker, and gingerly they hopped atop it.
This was a place where the fleshy-creatures kits would play between dens. When darkness fell, all would be quiet. In his loner moons, it had bee a good spot to nap with all vantage points visible. He remembered quite a few good naps here. For just a moment, the pressure of duty and heartache seemed less intense, a quieter suffering in light of nostalgia.
The temporary relief was a welcome change. Silently, the feline rubbed against the arch's metallic legs, tattered ears whipping side to side as their neck craned to get a good look around. Seems like I'm in the clear. Clambering onto the structure, Dogbite circled its flat top. Satisfied, the Skyclanner wrapped himself in their feathery tail, legs bent and belly cushioned by white paws. The buzzing light nearby, orchestrated by the rising cry of summer insects, soothed him. It wasn't guaranteed that a loner or a Twoleg wouldn't come along and disrupt the peace, but it beat the constant motion of clanmates. Nestling down, lid growing heavy, his nose started to sink lower. A familiar tiredness weighing across his shoulders.
I really need to get better sleeping habits. Owlish mannerisms opted for more privacy, but if he couldn't keep his schedule, it would raise questioning tails.
Glancing up, the sky's stars looked muted by the glow of Twoleg designs. It felt like Starclan was also tucked away back at camp, the eyes of friends, living or dead, both removed from his pelt. Maybe just a small nap. That way, I'm not so tired come morning. He figured the early morning sun would rouse him. Then, with a quick catch of a mouse, he could play it off as an early hunt. So long as I don't do this too often, I'll be okay. Nose sinking into pale legs, his eye now shut, scruffy chest falling with every deep and peaceful snore.
Out hunting alone near Riverclan—or supposed to be—his pelt grew stuffy as nerves ignited. Freedom from the suffocation inside was all he sought, blown into technicolor by images of mangled bodies. What was left of his friend-not-friend or maybe more-than-friend? It was never clear, but he had experienced it, dreamed of it, yearned for it. Unspoken pining as fresh as the moment he hissed it sheepishly between clenched fangs.
Reflecting back, he saw an uninjured Bobbie grinning ear to ear and Blazestar's warm gaze blanketing them. How he had wished he could've spared them all the agony. To cross between fabrics of reality, warning them of the dangers, and cling to them for dear life if they dare not listen. A fantasy at best. Shamefully, he looked away from another tragedy, a loss faded into the background of memories. Emotions just as palpable but destined to fade nonetheless, like the others. His paws hesitantly stepped over the scent line to Twoleg place, cutting the metaphorical line between safe choices and poor decisions. He had avoided anymore visits after Hollypaw was assigned to him and at last they had a second to slip away. I just need to breathe. Scrunching down, his muscles bunched and snapped forward, pads connecting to familiar dusty and prickly textures.
Anxiety rose his blood pressure even higher, legs growing unsteady on the wooden stakes. What if I get caught this time?
Timidly, he turned to peer back into Skyclan territory, scanning each gap in the trees for potential shapes or gleaming eyes. When none arose, his fur settled into uneven ridges. Too late to turn back now. Rationalizing, Dogbite walked, then trotted, and eventually sprinted across the fence. A bit rusty on balancing at first, muscle memory soon picking up the slack. The cinnamon and white tabby's pelt flashed past endless rows of dens. His good eye peeked at a small slope just ahead, leading to the black tarry top that had previously ended his life as a loner. They had been avoiding that street for awhile but tonight it called to them. A day or so travel along its path, and they would be right back at the start of it all. Again, his thrumming heart rumbled, his breathing quickened.
It's not where I should want to be, but I don't want to go home.
Indecision burned the corners of his gaze as his small moment of confidence fizzled into regret. I've got to control myself. He knew he wasn't expected back by anyone in particular but there was always doubt. Dutiful and quiet, the Lead Warrior asked few questions while following the rules religiously. What a joke. Praying to the cats of old, hoping to join them too. Why would they let a stranger in? His chest burned with shame. Clan life was different, and he'd laid those demons to rest. Put all dreams and ambitions into a life of love and strife. Somewhere he didn't have to sleep alone and shiver at the thought of who would hurt him next.
Given they were no stranger to fighting and clashing, a wild-eyed ferocity could be summoned in the gnarliest of scraps, but deep down they hated it. Despised the terror coursing through his blood and the numbing fear in his opponent's gaze. Clan rivalry was personal and proven to be just as lethal. Sucking in a deep breath, the dappled Lead shook a bedraggled head, failing to fight off the anxieties. There's only so much moonlight left. Keeping his neck even with the horizon, they slid past building corners and cruised deeper into forgotten territory. A recognizable arch signified the old marker, and gingerly they hopped atop it.
This was a place where the fleshy-creatures kits would play between dens. When darkness fell, all would be quiet. In his loner moons, it had bee a good spot to nap with all vantage points visible. He remembered quite a few good naps here. For just a moment, the pressure of duty and heartache seemed less intense, a quieter suffering in light of nostalgia.
The temporary relief was a welcome change. Silently, the feline rubbed against the arch's metallic legs, tattered ears whipping side to side as their neck craned to get a good look around. Seems like I'm in the clear. Clambering onto the structure, Dogbite circled its flat top. Satisfied, the Skyclanner wrapped himself in their feathery tail, legs bent and belly cushioned by white paws. The buzzing light nearby, orchestrated by the rising cry of summer insects, soothed him. It wasn't guaranteed that a loner or a Twoleg wouldn't come along and disrupt the peace, but it beat the constant motion of clanmates. Nestling down, lid growing heavy, his nose started to sink lower. A familiar tiredness weighing across his shoulders.
I really need to get better sleeping habits. Owlish mannerisms opted for more privacy, but if he couldn't keep his schedule, it would raise questioning tails.
Glancing up, the sky's stars looked muted by the glow of Twoleg designs. It felt like Starclan was also tucked away back at camp, the eyes of friends, living or dead, both removed from his pelt. Maybe just a small nap. That way, I'm not so tired come morning. He figured the early morning sun would rouse him. Then, with a quick catch of a mouse, he could play it off as an early hunt. So long as I don't do this too often, I'll be okay. Nose sinking into pale legs, his eye now shut, scruffy chest falling with every deep and peaceful snore.
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✧ LH cinnamon tabby high white blue eye
✧ npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
✧ skyclan lead warrior ; mentor to hollypaw
✧ 35 moons old ; birthday 07/01
✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
✧ penned by tasmagoric