oneshot my mind of stone ☾ oneshot

[LAKEMOON]

.·:*¨༺ ☾ ༻¨*:·. Sleep is a luxury as of this last quarter moon, it comes and goes in fleeting, intangible blinks. Like sand slipping through outstretched claws.
Lakemoon’s subconscious is waiting, waiting to feel the ground rumble underneath her, for two-legs to come stomping through their camp flanked by their beasts. Her home was not impenetrable, they had been chased away from it by overgrown rodents and ravenous cats alike, raided through. Sprawled in her nest, Lakemoon’s heart thrums in spite of her steady breathing, half-lidded optics stuck on the empty space her forepaws have spilled into.
You need rest, my moon.
Silver eyelashes flutter closed as her muzzle lifts, as though trying to seek out the achingly familiar voice that lives only in her mind.
You need strength, for Snowkit and for Graykit.
Her head thumps against flattened moss, and the silvery tabby knows it is only her brain attempting a sick trick, a trap to lure her into sleep. Still, sometimes the ghost of her beloved's voice is the only thing the warrior can cling to in the depths of the night.
Unfortunately, it seemed not even the figment of Lakemoon’s imagination could coerce her tonight, and it isn’t long until the spindled molly is slipping from the warriors den, nose already tilted skyward in her hurry for a drink of fresh air. The air isn’t as silent out in camp, where the only other noise in the warriors den is the snoring of her clanmates, out here she is met with the songs of the crickets and the frogs, the faint rustling of the things that went bump in the night. If she saw a clanmate do as she was about to, Lakemoon would undoubtedly intercept with a soft chastise, a reminder not to be stupid with all the danger that lurked in the shadows, not to spit in the face of those that had been stolen from their home.
In a blink, the reeds are swallowing her whole, silently brushing against her flank. The only sound of her departure comes from the soft rippling of the water as she slips under.
The small cluster of willow trees near the beech copse is the first place that crosses Lakemoon’s mind as an alabaster paw makes contact with the adjacent river bank, the tree’s offered a shelter that would work in her advantage, and they are rooted near enough to the river that would be her escape- if it came to it.
The Riverclanner had been in the wetlands at night before, although the circumstances had been entirely different, her destination had been much more frowned upon- the journey interrupted by bristling calico fur.
The sweeping tops of the willows begin to become too close for Lakemoon to see the top of, and the warrior lets a low-hanging vine glide along her spine as she passes under. Graykit would appreciate this place, she thinks- Snowkit would surely be imagining ways to turn the spot into his personal playground the moment ivory paws stepped under.
The river is silent this far upstream, lacking the rocks provided by the gorge and waterfall to churn and crash over. No, the only sound here is the soft push of the current.
Finding a carefully chosen spot where mud unearthed enough stone to comfortably settle on, Lakemoon would sit rigidly, spine refusing to curve even under the weight of her thoughts.
Moonlight reflects brilliant white on the surface of the pitch water, rhythmically broken by ripples. Azure eyes become lost in the reflection, falling further away from reality with each blink.
No longer is Lakemoon sitting by herself on the willow-covered river bank, the blue tabby has retreated deep into her memories and found herself holding frail yellow blooms, brilliant verdant eyes watching her expectantly. A breeze from the outside ruffles between the warriors ears, but with it she could almost hear the echo of a honey-pitched I love you.
Lakemoon squeezes her eyes shut, forcing the memory to an abrupt halt. Living in the past would not lift the weight from her chest, only suffocate her in longing. When the scarred warrior forces her eyelids to open again, rounded pupils narrow onto something floating down-stream, only a silhouette against the bright moonlight. Lakemoon shifts to a curious stand, ears flattening involuntarily when, finally, color is infused into the strange plant. It was a bloom that Lakemoon had seen only maybe once or twice in her lifetime. On a thin pad of viridescent green, navy optics trace the flower that blooms in the center, the thick, rounded alabaster petals. A golden center that mimics the sun.
Water lilies.
A forepaw reaches for the plant that is probably only there by happenstance, got caught in the wrong current, but… perhaps she could indulge in the fantasy of what it could be. Just this once.
It begins to drift by, but the warrior does not stop reaching, throwing rational thought to the wind. Without blinking, Lakemoon lets the blackened water pull her back under.
Splash.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── SMELLING LIKE A BONFIRE ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ LOST IN A HAZE ──┐‎

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  LAKEMOON ☾ she/her, warrior of riverclan, 27 moons.
  ⭃ lanky blue tabby with low white and navy blue eyes and a slightly twisted right hind leg. A large facial scar stretches from her right brow to her left cheek, and another crosses at her chest and stretches down the length of her stomach.
  ⭃ daughter of Tempestmoon && Lilypad ࿏ sister to Wolfwind ࿏ mate to Lilybloom & mother to Snowkit, Graykit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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