- May 5, 2023
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A different dream meets her tonight.
She's standing just before the edge of a cliff, high golden grass brushing her elbows, wind that tastes of open air and distant horizons whipping her fur about her face. There's the sense of a sprawling expanse at her back, all of it as bright and gilded as the tall stalks rippling underpaw, a world bursting with light and shining, golden color. Rivulets of liquid luminosity spilling down glowing hills and forests, and cats with bright eyes and color - blushed pelts waiting for her there.
It's a beautiful world, and yet she can't bring herself to turn back towards it.
Because there's something before her, too. A grey and empty place. The golden light bleeds away into smoke - hued tufts of grass and craggy sun - bleached rocks below, salt spray crashing over them, bubbling and foamy, waves that climb so high she can see them spattering the forepaws of the figure there. She can't see his face, but she knows who it is. His pelt is drained of its lively color, the bright luminous gold of the world at her back, but it's not star - studded, just bleached gray. Dark color spills down his neck onto his shoulders, dribbles over his forepaws to puddle below him where he sits with his back turned just so.
She knows who it is, and yet she can't bring herself to step forward into the grey with him.
Instead, she speaks.
" Hey, " she says, so softly, so bitterly. Somewhere, down in whatever lives in her chest, she knows it's not really him, that the world around her doesn't glitter with stars, his pelt is empty of Silverpelt's glow, but she can't help herself.
" Things have been different since you left, you know, " she murmurs, and though the figure doesn't move, doesn't twitch, she likes to think he can hear her, somehow, some way. Even if it's just for a moment. Even if he can't really hear her. " Everything is different. Everyone else has moved on, but I just . . . " The golden world behind her sparkles. " . . . I can't. I can't make myself be alive in a world where you aren't. I don't know why. "
" I stepped down from the council. I don't think you'd be proud of me for that. But I just can't do it. I can't. I can't seem to do anything these days, " she says, wishing he would turn around. Wishing he would press his nose into her fur and tell her that they would figure this out, together. " I've been saying a lot of can't, haven't I? " Her laugh is dry as a cicada's husk. " It's true, though. I can't do anything, or at least I can't do it right. "
" The kits . . . " She swallows hard. " The kits . . . I think they'll do alright for themselves. Do alright by you, at least. " A white paw rubs at her eyes. " I don't think I deserve to be mentioned in their legacy, do I? I haven't been a good mother to them, and that's— " Her voice starts to break, and she swallows again, continues on, warbling, " That's all I wanted to do, but— "
" You left me. " Her voice shakes. " Why did you go? Why did you have to leave me here? I can't do it without you. Why would you make me do this? Why would you do that to me? " She can't look at his unmoving back, but she can't look at that golden world behind her, either, so she just looks at her paws. Her voice dwindles into a whisper, then the pleading mewl of a child. " Why would you do this to me if you loved me? You said you loved me. "
" I'm sorry, " she says on reflex as she wipes her eyes with one paw. " That's what I really should have said, I guess. " The taste of guilt is so, so familiar. " That I'm sorry. That I love you, and I miss you, and I'm sorry. "
She wakes up with tears still drying on her cheeks.
// Inspired by Eden's oneshot!
She's standing just before the edge of a cliff, high golden grass brushing her elbows, wind that tastes of open air and distant horizons whipping her fur about her face. There's the sense of a sprawling expanse at her back, all of it as bright and gilded as the tall stalks rippling underpaw, a world bursting with light and shining, golden color. Rivulets of liquid luminosity spilling down glowing hills and forests, and cats with bright eyes and color - blushed pelts waiting for her there.
It's a beautiful world, and yet she can't bring herself to turn back towards it.
Because there's something before her, too. A grey and empty place. The golden light bleeds away into smoke - hued tufts of grass and craggy sun - bleached rocks below, salt spray crashing over them, bubbling and foamy, waves that climb so high she can see them spattering the forepaws of the figure there. She can't see his face, but she knows who it is. His pelt is drained of its lively color, the bright luminous gold of the world at her back, but it's not star - studded, just bleached gray. Dark color spills down his neck onto his shoulders, dribbles over his forepaws to puddle below him where he sits with his back turned just so.
She knows who it is, and yet she can't bring herself to step forward into the grey with him.
Instead, she speaks.
" Hey, " she says, so softly, so bitterly. Somewhere, down in whatever lives in her chest, she knows it's not really him, that the world around her doesn't glitter with stars, his pelt is empty of Silverpelt's glow, but she can't help herself.
" Things have been different since you left, you know, " she murmurs, and though the figure doesn't move, doesn't twitch, she likes to think he can hear her, somehow, some way. Even if it's just for a moment. Even if he can't really hear her. " Everything is different. Everyone else has moved on, but I just . . . " The golden world behind her sparkles. " . . . I can't. I can't make myself be alive in a world where you aren't. I don't know why. "
" I stepped down from the council. I don't think you'd be proud of me for that. But I just can't do it. I can't. I can't seem to do anything these days, " she says, wishing he would turn around. Wishing he would press his nose into her fur and tell her that they would figure this out, together. " I've been saying a lot of can't, haven't I? " Her laugh is dry as a cicada's husk. " It's true, though. I can't do anything, or at least I can't do it right. "
" The kits . . . " She swallows hard. " The kits . . . I think they'll do alright for themselves. Do alright by you, at least. " A white paw rubs at her eyes. " I don't think I deserve to be mentioned in their legacy, do I? I haven't been a good mother to them, and that's— " Her voice starts to break, and she swallows again, continues on, warbling, " That's all I wanted to do, but— "
" You left me. " Her voice shakes. " Why did you go? Why did you have to leave me here? I can't do it without you. Why would you make me do this? Why would you do that to me? " She can't look at his unmoving back, but she can't look at that golden world behind her, either, so she just looks at her paws. Her voice dwindles into a whisper, then the pleading mewl of a child. " Why would you do this to me if you loved me? You said you loved me. "
" I'm sorry, " she says on reflex as she wipes her eyes with one paw. " That's what I really should have said, I guess. " The taste of guilt is so, so familiar. " That I'm sorry. That I love you, and I miss you, and I'm sorry. "
She wakes up with tears still drying on her cheeks.
// Inspired by Eden's oneshot!
" speech "
" dream speech "
" dream speech "
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