sleep paralysis ✘ lichentail

[SMOKESTAR]

He is a tripwire set to go off at any moment, nerves frayed and fur prickling on edge as though awaiting what was to come next. Smokethroat wasn't sure where this strange bout of paranoia and unease was coming from but it was driving him into restless madness in the long hours of the night. He wanted to be free of his own skin, felt it too tight, too vulnerable; wondered if the strange sensation of being exposed would ever go away and having no idea where this feeling started. It was a slow, arduous task to disentangle himself from the nest and the spidery limbs of his mate but once he got out of the den and felt the cool rush of air pressing around him the relief was almost palpable; he could breath again, if only for a moment. Sleep never came easy for the dark tom but it seemed lately it had only gotten worse as time went onwards, a stirring black swill in the pit of his stomach made sure he was never without the strain of tension and worry that kept the mind frantic all through the day and night. Talking walks through the territory in the darkness was not an uncommon occurance for him, but the nagging fear of Beesong's untimely demise stopped him short from pushing out of the camp alone. What if he too had a stumble and fall, leaned too close over the edge of the gorge to peer into the abyss only to collapse within its gaping maw? Something told him it would be wise to not trek out on his own and his single orange eye narrowed as it swept the camp, the guards for the night Lichentail and another warrior but he paid the other fellow no mind and honed in on the gray lead as he padded over, tail flicking in greeting.
"Lichentail, mind if I borrow you for a walk? I'm sure Swantuft can handle the guard alone for a little while." A nod to the other warrior before he caught the scruffy she-cat in a quiet stare, awaiting a response.

---

[Ooc]
- @lichentail
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[lichenstar]

Time ticks by at a pace unrelenting but equally torturous and slow.... Every time a drop of water falls from a well drenched leaf at the drying shores of the river is loud amongst the still, hot silence... Bugs chirp their warbled songs in the distance, thriving in the heat of the desperate rays of the sun. It had set awhile ago... but the cool breeze of spring nights had long since abandoned them. Letting out a small breath, the point cast a side-long glance to the other guard, finding an awkward eye contact made in that moment that made them quickly sit up straight and offer a cheesy smile of apology for staring...

Ugh...

They understood well enough that their duties weren't any 'fancier' because they were a lead... but it did sometimes feel like they were a kit being scolded. No hunting patrols or border patrols the moon previous, a rigid watch at the Gathering... Now it was back to 'business as usual' if business as usual meant lightwork.

The sound of shifting sands alerted them to a clanmate leaving the camp for the night- probably just going out to dirt-place or something equally harmless. Lichentail had no reason to suspect malicious intent from anyone, opening their maw to offer a greeting, it was the disarrayed dark fur at the corner of their vision that first warranted a guess to who it could be- Pleasantly, they hoped it might be Willowroot... Cindershade maybe?

But the approach was much more calculated... paw-steps heavy with the weight of the world... It didn't match either of the obsidian ladies. Coming 'round now to stop in front of her with a tail squishing a hello, the silvered warrior couldn't help but grow nervous the moment Smokethroat made his request. He wanted to walk? With her? Alone? Briefly she considered the suspicion that this could be a chance to get petty revenge for her mistake months ago- maybe he'd found another trap and was going to lead her astray on purpose and-

Swantuft cleared their throat- a reminder the lead had just kind of left her deputy awaiting a response for perhaps a little too long than a casual pause. Rising to her paws quickly, she flicked an ear in acknowledgement of the reminder, a quick 'thank you' for pulling her from an waterfall of anxious thought. "Of course- I would be happy to be an escort."

If being cordial and benign was the kind of lead Cicadastar wanted... fine. She would fill the role as assigned.​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

He is briefly taken aback by how she seems to simply stare at him unblinking as though he'd grown an extra head or something, Smokethroat waits as patiently as one constantly lit ablaze within can wait and is silently thankful for the other warrior for nudging her into replying with a gentle sound to break the almost awkward air that had begun to suffocate him. The reply was anything but what he expected too, curt and professional as if he had given an order rather than simply asked for some company before he stepped out of camp. The dark tom stands there a moment after Lichentail has already agreed, debating whether or not to simply tell her not to bother and ask Swantuft to join him instead since she seemed so hesitant. Did she not want to? Had his tone been too serious when he asked and she felt it some kind of demand? He couldn't tell, he'd never been particularly good at reading social situations and it had bitten him on more than one occasion for being too foolhardy.
After a moment he gave a quiet sigh and just decided he was overhinking it, tail flicking in a wave to the other warrior before he turned and began to make his way outside their camp borders and into the moonlit shroud of territory that bloomed at the riverside; the soft churning of the waters drowning out cricketsong.
"...you know you can say no, right?" He comments before thinking, a brow arched over that lone orange eye before he gives an amused snort, "If my company is so deplorable you're welcome to refuse it. I would've asked someone else." Dark shoulders rolled forward in a shrug as he kept walking, "I tell everyone to not leave camp alone at night...perhaps a little paranoid on my part, but after Beesong simply vanished and fell into the gorge I just...I don't know. I feel having someone with them might've saved their life. It would be hypocritical of me to not do the same myself, but genuinely if you've no interest I will make a note to not ask you again..."
He was gruff, hard to get along with due to a combination of his own social failings and inability to formulate appropriate responses in a timely manner; so he wouldnt be too terribly bothered if someone disliked him enough they viewed him as deputy and deputy alone.
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[lichenstar]

The few moments of mutual silence were all the preparation she had to sort her thoughts, to dispel concerns of betrayal and lay uncertainties to rest. It would be... neigh on impossible for Smokethroat to intentionally see to her demise anyway. That and he just... didn't seem the type... History did not declare him to be her enemy, just someone to avoid (if only to avoid the shame associated with him). Pale eyes moving over the passing leaves, the scents that dwindled from the last patrol were a pleasant enough distraction; she took a breath to see who she might yet identify but any retention of those smells was interrupted by a very... dry, rhetorical question. Letting her jaw fall open slightly, the pointed cat flattened their ears in some amount of dismay.

"It's not like that," they rushed to reply as his tone moved between mild annoyance and amusement... Looking away like a child caught doing something embarrassing, the lead struggled to find an explanation that didn't outright admit that she preferred to give him a wide berth. It would, of course, make it sound like she hated the bi-colored tom sincerely rather than reverence she kept tucked aside.

It was shame that motivated her to stay away.

He commented further on the uncertainty that haunted him, a confession for his fears following the untimely demise of Beesong. They had been friends, hadn't they? It was hard to tell who in the more emotionally reserved group of RiverClan was actually on good terms and who just politely tolerated each other. It was a display of feelings that she had not borne witness to before, an honesty from a layer of Smokethroat that was kept shut tight under the watchful, burning gaze of daylight.

Perhaps he took shelter with the Star on purpose... under the cover of night they could hide and share their truths in secret. Cicadastar was as elusive as the insects that he was named after, buried under the dirt and hardly known until the roaring song of his affections (or anger) became almost deafeningly loud-- emerging from the dirt in such great numbers it became overwhelming. In his roundabout confession he had circled back to the point of his commentary- she was not his prisoner.

"It's not like that," they repeated, this time not blurting the words out too quickly to be identifiable. "It isn't your request that I find a burden; I assure you it is... the opposite. You said it yourself it is a matter of maintaining your safety... so you would choose me?" The question hung there, the context unspoken but well enough known. The image of him strung up in the tree like a decoration on display, still... hovering... the tell-tale drip of blood as it traveled down his arm.

"I would've assumed you'd want someone better equipped to protect you. That's all..."​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Someone better? That sort of self-deprecating wasn't something he was very fond on for a cat who was meant to assist in leading the other warriors in his and Cicadastar's steed but he witheld comment on that when he realized where it was coming from. Ah, he thinks, as if it was something trivial and meaningless; the wires. An unfortunate incident but that's all it was, a single unfortunate incident that had not ended in death thankfully.

"Cicadastar chose you to join his council." Smokethroat said simply, pausing his steps as he realized he might need to clarify such a statement; perhaps the way he viewed it wasn't as obvious to everyone else, or maybe he was overthinking and overexplaining it anyways; he wasn't sure, but he'd rather make a fool of himself prattling on than leave a cat without answers. "I trust him, I trust him with my life, with RiverClan, with everything. I may not see what he saw in you, but I trust every decision he makes." A quiet scoff catches in the back of his throat, he shows his teeth in a forced grin, "...most of them." He still felt Boneripple was one tongue-lashing away from getting thrown out and he'd never wanted her here in the first place but tolerated and grit his teeth because he had to have faith in his leader. Though that faith has wavered slightly over hearing about the border incident. This discussion was not about the ex-ShadowClanner though so he didn't linger on the topic.

"...if this is about the wires, you were already punished for it by yourself." If she still felt guilty after all this time then it had left an impression, he had not yelled at them for it because he was dealing with the new scar forming under his arm and the reality of it was that the simple act of knowing you messed up was often enough punishment on its own-if you realized it by yourself anyways, which she seemed to in that instance. They had not at the border apparently and the reprimand had been necessary. "We make mistakes, we can only be grateful that particular mistake wasn't fatal." If it had been Catfishpaw in that wire she'd be dead. Looped around her neck, strung up to choke like her namesake tossed ashore. Smokethroat doesn't like to think about it.
"You learn from it, as you should with any act of failure on your part. You accept it, do as you must to fix it and then you move forward. To linger in the past is to abandon your future. To wallow in self-pity is an insult to who you will become."
He had not expected this trip to turn into a lecture, he just wanted a walk, but if it would soothe their apprehensions then he would do so. If it would make them walk less on eggshells around him then so be it.
"...we are more than our mistakes, but only if we try to correct them." He imagined Lichentail would be much more dilligent in the future when set to a task as delicate as removing traps.
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[lichenstar]

The molly couldn't help but scrunch up their nose as if to recoil from that initial, simple reply. So it was an obligation to trust her then? She whirled for a moment about what that entailed but was not given the chance to stew in that turmoil for long as he paused to elaborate. It was not quite the heartwarming explanation the sore spots of her wanted to hear but it was his truth, the honesty that he led his life with. An unfathomable, unwavering certainty in one thing; Cicadastar was worth believing in. It was not far removed from the tenant of her own life and for that, she could take some solace in their shared thinking. When you lived for the success of something else, it made most questions of faith trivial.

She lingered in that pause between his words, eyes moving back and forth as if reading some invisible lines in front of her, searching for something that was hidden in those breaths, in the thoughts he could hear but did not share.

"You have so much faith in all of the future cats we might yet be someday..." It seemed... almost stupid. Like praying for a hypothetical to come to be in not just one area of life but all of them. Every road he took was masked by shadows and it was StarClan themselves that stole his eye, that left him shrouded in secrecy and confusion for where that future might take him. She couldn't tell if that was an impressive level of trust or a stupid one.

"I will... do my best to honor both us then." It was a promise, and she was not often one to break them. Glancing towards the shifting leaves, they reached towards the two cats like hungry children demanding attention before running away in the next breeze. How fickle... fate and nature and time all were.

"I appreciate it- the pep talk I mean- and I hope I have not soured your night with my sulking."

It left room for her to wonder what did actually bother him. He had said most things... it left an open door; had he intended it? An invitation to pry but one she was fearful of taking. They were not close, were hardly more than partners in work and yet... "Is there... something bothering you? You have seemed... more restless than usual, Smokethroat." Barring how disrespectful it was to pry into the private issues of others, Lichentail assumed he would politely tell her to mind her business if she had misread the atmosphere of their late-night discussion.​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

"I don't know if I'd call it faith. Optimism, perhaps, though I know I'm not exactly known for having that." He was a dour faced tom with a bit of a bite to his words and thinking on the bright side of things didn't come naturally, he was a realist if anything-focused on the cold hard facts of how things were with little change but he did genuinely believe in some matters strongly enough you might call it more than mere ideaology but the understanding of fate.
"Most cats believe in something though, I like to believe in RiverClan so by extension I believe in our leader, our clanmates..."
If he didn't then what bound him here? What bound any of them here? He recalls the time before the Great Battle and the hardships, the struggle for prey, the constant clashing with the Pine Colony but even prior to that it had been a nonstop contest against the ever encroaching darkness of death. Smokethroat remembers going hungry many nights, forcing the little prey he'd found on Moss and insisting he already ate prior to try to keep her strength up during her more miserable days, watching her die slowly from her illness with her body unable to keep her going for the lack of food. Here now at the river, untouched by any but their own they had fish for days and full bellies often; he thinks she would have liked it here if only she had held out a little longer.
"...if I do not trust the clan, who can I trust?" Blindly? No, he had his wits about him and enough caution from years in two-leg place to know better than to simply toss his chances in with any cat whatsoever, but he also knew when to bite his tongue and take the risk. Perhaps trusting Lichentail was risk, she was a touch too opinionated, had beliefs that didn't necessarily align with his at all times, was prone to lapses in judgement that more sensible cats might not make but Cicadastar had only scolded her, not cast her aside; so there was something worth trusting still and he would accept this, he would do so. Because anything less was disrespect to the leader he so admired.
When they make their promise to honor this bout of trust he gives a nod, content to accept that and that alone-only words for now but actions going forward would solidify the understanding.
Pep talk though...
"I do not often bother with them, I feel most cats don't need them but perhaps it was also for me in a way." He'd not waste time chatting off anyone's ears unless he felt it worthwhile, he was a tom of few words after all. But her next question has his steps stop, stall in place and leaving him standing there unmoving as he considers how to reply, "I suppose I'm just...not over losing Beesong. I worry for Ravenpaw going forward...."


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[lichenstar]

Optimism was definitely a funny word to use where the black and white deputy was concerned... wasn't it. And he seemed inclined to agree soon after saying such. It was something at the very least they could have in common, that the reality of the world was not to be avoided because it could not be escaped.

A belief in RiverClan... was that not her own measuring stick of morality?

A smile pulled at her lips, an idle gaze glancing at the leader of their stroll only at moments she felt were appropriate, relevant... and with a small wonder Lichentail can't help but think... what about StarClan?

Maybe it was too new... these ancestors that stared down with star-filled eyes. They had such wonderful promises in those half-opaque bodies, stories and warnings to share to protect them. And yet... they are not breathed by name at all between the two.

"I am relieved to hear we feel much the same then... I joined the Marsh Colony hoping to be a part of something better," the corners of their eyes wrinkle at the thought, a smile that actually reaches them, "My parents were furious... of course. Too used to their way of living... isolated... but this was something different, something worth taking a risk for. I still think that."

How many lives had they touched... in being here? Not just in the direct sense of apprentices but the unity of so many together, working towards a mutual security on a grander level.

And Smokethroat is nothing if not humble, insisting that he is reserved from the topic and does not suffer it for himself and yet... the discussion's existence is proof enough of his care. A subtle thing, delicate... one he would not openly admit to outside of the word 'duty.'

Nothing short of noble, in his own right.

And it is with great consideration, she knows, that he opts to share even a fraction of the cat underneath his stoic exterior. His fears are not unfounded, they have haunted her worries too. Ravenpaw is not so young as to be helpless but the suddenness was enough to bring anyone to bow at the agony that void had created. "I.... am worried for him too," it was largely their biggest concern aside the grief that came with seeing such a kind soul so battered... so still. "It feels almost like a cruel joke... to have lost Gloompaw, to have recovered... just to have it taken away again. Were you two close...?"

She could only assume they at least knew each other moderately well, given what extensive recovery the deputy's missing eye had in store for him.​