HEAVY EYES LOOKIN' UP | DREAM

[DUSKBIRD]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   In his dreams, he feels weightless. It's the effortless kind of ease– muscles that move without aching effort, and lungs that don't creak with every breath. It's...easier this way, than to lie awake in bouts of awareness, when he knows that the strength he has worked so hard for began to wither away. Sitting silently in Berryheart's den, comforted by the bustle– he remembers flopping to the empty patient nest moons ago and seeking answers in his silence. A strand of familiarity between the two of them, given away by the flame-tip of his tail. Sometimes, when things are really bad and he really hurts, he thinks...he thinks that maybe it's not so bad of a place to die.

If he's going to fade away in Berryheart's den, dreaming of a full lush forest with his clanmates bustling paws just a bit away, still within earshot...maybe that's not so bad after all.

The apprentice is in a hunter's crouch, amber eyes turned to a thin ring as black swallows it up. Excited and watchful. Something rustles in the foliage just ahead, and he thinks he can see fur flicking about. Back and forth (almost like a cat's, he does not think— but the sensation grows), back and forth (like a cat's—)

The dream, for a moment, is hazy. Weakness bleeds back into him as Duskpaw coughs in his dream and real life both, sucking in air through a sore throat and heavy chest. "This isn't ThunderClan," he says suddenly, his voice so clear and loud it might've stirred away any prey. Does the tail keep flicking? "I've always dreamed of ThunderClan before. Where am I? Am I going to–?" Die? Will I ever see my mother again? My mentor? My brother? If he's dead, he hopes the answer is no. Not for a very, very long time.

𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐𝘍 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘐𝘔𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘔𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘞𝘙𝘖𝘕𝘎 ﹖  ╱╱ 9.14.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.  DUSKPAW. HE - HIM OR THEY - THEM. APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN, NEARING WARRIORHOOD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ———
  
  
  ——  a lanky apprentice with mostly dark brown fur that fades just slightly near the chest, throat, and ears, while the tip of their tail burns with the bright orange tabby flame. his eyes are a deep, rich amber-brown, seeming red, often somewhat critical and cautious but not unkind in expression. he is not terribly tall, but his shoulders are broadening with age and training.
  

  ✦ BLAZESTAR x LITTLE WOLF. LITTERMATE TO SKYPAW, PART OF HOWLINGFAM. MENTORED BY NIGHTBIRD. DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT HIS SKYCLAN HERITAGE. —

• "speech"

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[MORNINGPAW ☆]

The tom who crouches in star-frosted undergrowth is dark-colored, with broadening shoulders and thick fur. He who was conceived in grief, born in a shroud of half-secrecy, half-blood. Morningpaw slips through the grass, her spotted tail lifted high and her blue eyes wide with tenderness and sorrow. The tortoiseshell point sits before this cat she has never met, her brother, and gives him a soft smile. “Duskpaw, welcome. You are visiting StarClan, but you have not passed on yet, little one. You will return home.” She flicks an ear, as though embarrassed. “Little one, listen to me! You’re bigger than me, bigger and older than I’ll ever be.”

When she laughs, it’s a sweet, girlish sound, but her round sky-colored gaze is deep with wisdom and a sadness she carries for eternity. “You’ve never met me, but I’m your sister, Duskpaw.” She tilts her head, regarding her younger sibling with interest. “I’m glad I get to finally meet you! How are you, and how is Skypaw?” She wants to ask how her twin is—but she knows how Moonwhisper is, and it’s a dark shadow on her heart.
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​