Im drowning - edenpaw

[flowercloud.]

the images of the dog haunted her, and all she could do was wake up in sweat and fear. gulp it away, and pretend it didn't exist. she couldn't pretend the pain in her head didn't exist - a constant reminder. but she had duties still, she was a warrior still, and all she could do was work. distracting herself to pretend the anger at herself didn't exist. denying the fact of how she felt.

green gaze would cast along the camp, looking for something to do. the golden warrior would note the younger apprentice, reinforcing a den as what was assumedly an apprentices task. that was something right?

edenpaw had seemed for than frightened that day she returned with duskpool in tow. and honestly, worrying about someone else was better than worrying about herself. fretting her future and battling the infectious depression that had fallen back upon her. she had to stop getting herself in these situations where the outcome fell so easily on her. she had to do better for herself, but she was scared to go on walks to cool her mind now. she was scared to leave too far from camp, or be out without the company of others on a patrol.

with hear hearing faded on her left side, she fretted even more. she swallowed hard, approaching the apprentice and gathering her own pawful to assist in the reinforcement. "are.. you doing okay, edenpaw?"



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[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 It was a menial task but one that could be done without a need for exceptional skill. Edenpaw was an abysmal hunter (Slate's groaning was enough to set them on edge about it), an even worse fighter... the codes the clans came up with were something they got jumbled up in their head often and with more being added, it seemed like they were just doomed to fail in every regard. The one solace they took was in being helpful in camp... babysitting for the queens, playing with the kittens, changing bedding... reinforcing dens wasn't one they'd attempted many times but the art of weaving (something RiverClan had mentioned while they were visiting) was cathartic... and didn't frustrate them when they messed it up.

It was simple... it was a break from constant reminders of just how difficult this all was. What they'd gotten themself into as a wee, spiky furred kitten. Maybe... Maybe Slate had been right...

The sound of crunching under-paw summons their attention to the gingerly approaching molly- her fur looks so plush and warm in this weather, they trace the shape of her heavy, downy coat with some amount of harmless jealousy. Twitchbolt wasn't around for them to annoy by burying their cold nose into his underbelly. Flowercloud's voice is as soft as her name as she asks after Edenpaw's wellness and for a moment... they're confused why it's even a question.

Did they look that miserable, doing this job?

"I'm okay today," they purr in response, tilting their head slightly. Every time they stop to look at her face they're reminded of how they must look similar... marred. While Edenpaw's too-big ears remain standing, the gouging scars around fragile eyes is the same. "You adjusting okay," they ask in a hushed whisper, "I still feel gross sometimes..."​

 

[flowercloud.]

once upon a time, flowercloud was not as good at things as she wanted to be. she would beat herself up about it, and cry- the words of everyone else tore into her heart. shed let the world get the better of her far too easy. and when she had enough, she had enough.

words now fell off her fur like water on a leaf, ignored and forgotten easily. the only one that genuinely beat her up was herself. that was the only thing she knew she could do, was the ability to understand that only she had the power to feel a specific way about something.

as edenpaw uttered the words out loud, how they felt gross- flowercloud gave a small sigh, her head dipping a bit as her ear flattened. "sometimes, we feel a certain way about ourselves after a traumatic event," she started, lifting her head a bit towards the apprentice. "but what matters most is overcoming those feelings. it won't happen overnight- but one day we'll look at our scars and smile. we overcame it, we survived- and we're stronger for it. we'll be proud of them one day."

was it true? she didn't know, but she hoped as the words left with a soft tone, the other would feel slightly more reassured. she could only hope they could feel at least a bit better. "i think... each scar tells a story of how we overcame something, and maybe... maybe I'm wrong. no one is perfect, and truely- scars shouldn't make one feel... gross. as you put it. I don't think you're gross. I think you're unique. does that make sense?"



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[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 It was hard to ignore the way your reflection stared back at you when it was a mirror of someone unfamiliar... Edenpaw wasn't particularly concerned with vanity but being surrounded by pretty girls all the time sure made it hard to cope with. Cherrypaw and her big, fluffy, well-groomed coat... even Lupinepaw looked plush and perfect for cuddling up close to at night for warmth. Hazelbeam, despite being older than them, was still someone to idolize as beautiful, in her own weird way of accessorizing and a bright, shining smile. Their ears flick nervously at the suggestion that it's something to be proud of- those scars.

It was a mark of failure, if anything. A reminder of someone played for a fool for their trusting nature. Why shouldn't they have believed him? After the time they'd spent together? Did that mean everyone was unreliable? That behind every compliment and doting touch was a pair of claws itching to shred into their skin...

"What good is surviving if I'm still useless," they grumble into their chest fur, not really sure there's a good answer. Flowercloud could say whatever she wanted about living past struggle but at least she could catch a damn mouse. At least she could actually fight back when cornered by enemies. What good was a daylight apprentice that could... climb trees? Anyone in this clan could do that! It didn't make them special to be tatter-faced and still smiling (even if they weren't as sincere as before).

Stories didn't mean much of anything... stories of Brightflame didn't suddenly make her alive again. They only highlighted her failures, her mistakes.. the ones that followed her to her grave. Edenpaw would be the same, they were certain of that much. 'Here lies Edenpaw, a loud-mouth with no skills that got beat up by a cute boy on the border. As useless in death as they were in life.' A fitting obituary... probably.

"Sorry Flowercloud I just don't think we're the same..." They shove a stick into the den wall with a little too much force, breaking one of the leaves they'd just woven into it a moment ago. They hiss a small curse for their impatience, bending down to find a new replacement to patch it with. "At least you can feed someone... or... or defend yourself a little bit. All I'm good for is making my friends laugh."​