- Jun 10, 2023
- 109
- 23
- 18
STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME
one sheep. two sheep. three. four. five...
his head was swimming. he hasn't slept in stars know how long and he can't help but feel watched. his every single move under a microscope, and even when he could almost guarantee his safety inside of camp, he cannot do so when he leaves it. the safety net is pulled beneath him, and he cannot catch himself. walking beside his mentor leaves him no comfort, not when he is nearing old enough to be a warrior and he's supposed to be able to protect himself, but that's not what he's good at. he hates even looking at his claws, let alone using them. anytime he tries to, he's met with that lingering self doubt and the pain returns to his face in a deep throbbing. he could not do that to anyone else.
his paws stopped before his mind couple fully process that was what was happening. he stares ahead into nothingness, gaze unblinking and breath quiet yet ragged and uneven nonetheless. you really think you can do this, huh? become a warrior? you can't even protect yourself, how do you expect to protect this precious clan of yours? the voice sounds eerily like hers and it makes him snap his gaze open and look around. she wasn't here, no, but his mind was having a hard time believing so. relax, kit. i won't kill you right now. i want to watch you fall and crumble beneath your failure first.
a wince leaves him as he squeezes his eyes shut. not real. not real. one sheep... two sheep... three... four... a breath in and out, in and out. he slowly opens his eyes to look over at duskpool... he feels like a failure of an apprentice to him. he's tried so hard to nuture the young cat to be a good warrior and now here he stood, and he didn't even think he would pass the test, even if it was something that was simple enough like hunting. but nothing was ever that simple with drowsypaw. tired is the young tom, as his name has always suggested. he wonders, if he was named quickkit instead, would he have been fast enough on his paws to be a good fighter?
he doesn't know. he doesn't. he's not angry at his mother for naming him drowsykit. he was sleepy then, he's sleepy now. it was always meant to be just that. a name. not a name sake... but a name. and now he's stuck being so tired. the sheep that roam in his thoughts are more tired than he is. he can't sleep, most of the time. not when he feels so useless. scared. like a quivering kit, seeing his mama beat up by a dog the first time. he couldn't do anything then. he still can't now. he hasn't changed, except now he was bigger and he was ugly. unworthy of praise, unworthy of anything. maybe he's meant to be this all his life.
his gaze moves to his paws and he takes but a few seconds before speaking up.
"d...duskpool? do you think i can pass?"
he knows somewhere, silversmoke is watching, as it is his vote that will make or break his warriorhood. it does not help his paranoia, at all, but he cannot go against what orangestar says. it must be, unfortunately. he shakes his head slightly to try to keep from diving back into it. he needs to focus, and he needs some sort of reassurance that he can do this otherwise he wouldn't be able to at all.
// @DUSKPOOL @SILVERSMOKE
his head was swimming. he hasn't slept in stars know how long and he can't help but feel watched. his every single move under a microscope, and even when he could almost guarantee his safety inside of camp, he cannot do so when he leaves it. the safety net is pulled beneath him, and he cannot catch himself. walking beside his mentor leaves him no comfort, not when he is nearing old enough to be a warrior and he's supposed to be able to protect himself, but that's not what he's good at. he hates even looking at his claws, let alone using them. anytime he tries to, he's met with that lingering self doubt and the pain returns to his face in a deep throbbing. he could not do that to anyone else.
his paws stopped before his mind couple fully process that was what was happening. he stares ahead into nothingness, gaze unblinking and breath quiet yet ragged and uneven nonetheless. you really think you can do this, huh? become a warrior? you can't even protect yourself, how do you expect to protect this precious clan of yours? the voice sounds eerily like hers and it makes him snap his gaze open and look around. she wasn't here, no, but his mind was having a hard time believing so. relax, kit. i won't kill you right now. i want to watch you fall and crumble beneath your failure first.
a wince leaves him as he squeezes his eyes shut. not real. not real. one sheep... two sheep... three... four... a breath in and out, in and out. he slowly opens his eyes to look over at duskpool... he feels like a failure of an apprentice to him. he's tried so hard to nuture the young cat to be a good warrior and now here he stood, and he didn't even think he would pass the test, even if it was something that was simple enough like hunting. but nothing was ever that simple with drowsypaw. tired is the young tom, as his name has always suggested. he wonders, if he was named quickkit instead, would he have been fast enough on his paws to be a good fighter?
he doesn't know. he doesn't. he's not angry at his mother for naming him drowsykit. he was sleepy then, he's sleepy now. it was always meant to be just that. a name. not a name sake... but a name. and now he's stuck being so tired. the sheep that roam in his thoughts are more tired than he is. he can't sleep, most of the time. not when he feels so useless. scared. like a quivering kit, seeing his mama beat up by a dog the first time. he couldn't do anything then. he still can't now. he hasn't changed, except now he was bigger and he was ugly. unworthy of praise, unworthy of anything. maybe he's meant to be this all his life.
his gaze moves to his paws and he takes but a few seconds before speaking up.
"d...duskpool? do you think i can pass?"
he knows somewhere, silversmoke is watching, as it is his vote that will make or break his warriorhood. it does not help his paranoia, at all, but he cannot go against what orangestar says. it must be, unfortunately. he shakes his head slightly to try to keep from diving back into it. he needs to focus, and he needs some sort of reassurance that he can do this otherwise he wouldn't be able to at all.
// @DUSKPOOL @SILVERSMOKE
