private sleepwalker

[Dandelionwish]

Tw: Vague Emetophobia implied!

Dandelionpaw often thought he was made of tougher stuff than most cats, but perhaps it was just youthful whimsy. He had considered himself quite strong in keeping his cool even during the most hectic of situations but what had just happened was too much for him to stomach in more ways than one. It was a testament to his will he had kept the hare he'd eaten earlier down until Kestreltalon had been tended to, it was a badge of honor in a sense that said hare only came back once he had excused himself to let her rest of clear his head; he'd made it well outside of camp before having to stop and heave. He could only see blood, he had not stopped to wash himself in his haste to get out so he sought out the nearest pool of water to throw himself into with desperation, splashing wildly to try and get every drop of crimson splatter off his pelt. This wasn't the worst it was going to get, he realized, an eye was far from the worst wound he'd see but it was how it had been given that made him so uneasy. The point apprentice felt he might have a better handle on himself if a fox had done it, if a hawk had done it, if an enemy clan warrior had done it...
But he'd never look at the wounded warrior's face now without seeing the cold green hues of their leader raising a paw to strike.
Was this going to be a regular occurence? A part of him wanted to run, run as fast as his legs could carry him back to the barn or some other clan but....but he...his family, his friends, his fear of leaving Honeytwist alone and abandoning her after promising...
And he liked it here, he was just scared, unsure...worried. But he knew guilt would gnaw him if he simply left. That he would feel he abandoned his home and while in his eyes Sootstar was edging ever closer to never being a cat he'd trust to any degree...he had hope with some of the others.
Standing in the shallow pool, now thoroughly soaked, he shook his pelt out to help himself dry as he trudged onward through the moors. Now that he'd lost his lunch, he wanted to replace it...

@Coldpaw | Coldkill

​

 

[Coldsnap]

THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

---

Life was a minefield of disasters. And if you happened to have the misfortune of stepping in the wrong spot at the wrong time, well, you ended up nursing those wounds for the rest of your life usually. At least, that's the conclusion Coldpaw had come to. No matter how much goodness you managed to find, there was always something laying just out of sight waiting to take it away from you. Friends, family, innocence- none of it was sacred to that finicky beast called 'life'. It was a hard lesson to learn, and one that most cats had their entire lives to figure out.

Some though, were thrown into the deep-end right from the beginning, expected to endure and just figure it out. And at this point, Cold honestly wasn't sure if he was swimming or sinking. His body was alive and well, but he'd felt so empty for so long now. Everything he'd ever cared about was gone, and he just couldn't bring himself to open up those parts of himself to Windclan when his heart was still scabbed over and bleeding from the marsh group - Shadowclan.

Home would never be home again, no matter where he was or how long he stayed there.

He wasn't exactly sure what compelled him to do it. He wasn't friends with any cat in camp, and while he took his loyalty to the clan extremely seriously, compassion wasn't something he was known for showing with others. Not anymore, at least. He pushed down whatever memories threatened to surface then, bittersweet daggers to the heart of times where he laughed and smiled just like any other kid, always quick to step in and defend those around him- even if he was still a hot-head with an aggressive streak. What was the point in being like that though when cats where just going to up and leave in the end? He wouldn't waste his energy on it anymore.

And so he told himself it wasn't out of empathy that he'd left camp after spotting Dandelionpaw slip out. It was curiosity or, at best, camaraderie- which was the closest to 'friendship' a cat could ever get to Coldpaw, a status of loyalty rather than a marker of emotional commitment.

He wondered if it was the points first time being covered in another cats blood. If it was the first time he'd seen something so gruesome. Or maybe, it was just the show that caused it that had the other looking so shaken as they made their way through the felds toward the closest water source. For some reason, it was kind of annoying, that expression of theirs. Why did he prefer that stupid smile?

By the time Coldpaw caught up to the other- a journey that had been purposefully unrushed- Dandelion was on their way back, crossing the moors toward camp and completely soaked, fur sticking out from having tried to shake out their coat.. "That's an interesting look." he snorted, eyeing the awkward tufts of fur.[/b]"Have you decided your part Riverclan now?"[/b] he asked, looking the other over with a raised brow and subtle smirk. ​

---

windclan apprentice - male - 8 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes

 

[Dandelionwish]

Dandelionpaw felt like he was in a perpetual state of drowning, rescued often but never fully pulled from the water. He thought himself capable enough, willed himself to do better and learn faster but he had found in times of extreme stress his mind simply blanked out. What would real combat be like? Not that he'd get to fully experience himself, being a healer on the side but he imagined he would need to fight at some point so he kept his claws sharp. Practicing with other apprentices was not the same as an adult cat with murderous intent. Would he lock up then too?

Maybe he was not cut out for a world like this. Edged with sharp claws and cruelty, but he also felt some strong incentive to stay out of worry for others that the idea of simply going was out of the question. Honeytwist needed him, the clan needed Honeytwist. Simple as that. His dreary thoughts would not be allowed to linger long as he made his way back, pausing at the familiar voice and lifting his head up to catch the dark tabby standing before him with a smirk and words that felt like a normal taunt but oddly softer; like a joke between friends. Dandelionpaw smiled quickly, as soon as another cat could see him he was back to his usual cheery demeanor, pushed the visions of red swilling around his paws in the pond back under the surface of his thoughts.
"Interestin' look? Ye think? Maybe I ought to go roll'n in ponds more often if ye like it! Could use a new look!" He actually wasn't very fond of getting wet given his fur took an alarmingly long time to dry and had a tendency to remain spiky and unshapely until he took the time to actually groom it back down, but it was often worth the fun to suffer in such a way.

Raising a brown paw to his mouth he glnced to the side thoughtfully and then shook his head as if having deeply considered the question. "Naw, don't think I'd be much of a RiverClanner. Don't like fish smell, think it'd drive me crazy havin' to just eat that!" Continuing to walk along he paused alongside the other apprentice to give another rough shake, entire body ambulating to send the last bits and splashes of water from his pelt onto Coldpaw.
"Hyacinthbreath lettin' ye do yer own thing today?" He knew they trained mostly at night, knew the training was far more intense than what he'd experienced himself or seen other mentors do, so it was a surprise to hear she might have given him the day off. Dandelionpaw figured training stopped when you became a warrior for the lead warrior's primary plan.

​

 

[Coldsnap]

THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

---

He saw the switch as soon as it took place, that shift from meloncholy to bright. It might have tricked a less observant cat, but Coldpaw had seen it all from start to finish; the argument, the horror, the sickened look on their face afterwards when leaving the camp. He wouldn't be fooled. Your not shining as brightly as usual.
"You'd make a lousy Riverclanner anyways." he snorted as the other flung the rest of their bath onto him, though the words not entirely unkind. "Always scaring away all the fish with that loud mouth of yours." Besides, Riverclan didn't deserve any Windclan cat, let alone one of their healers.

At their mention of Hyacinthbreath, Coldpaw would shrug. "Not really, but I've got time before I have to be back." came his reply, not seeming too bothered. Besides, it had been a while since Coldpaw had actually challenged Hyacinth. Maybe it would be worth being late, if only to remind her she had to stay on her toes. After all, Coldpaw only did as she said because he wanted to. If he decided his time was better spent elsewhere, then he'd spend it there.

He seemed to regard Dandelion for a moment, before yellow eyes broke the gaze to stare off at the moor. "You don't have to smile if your not in the mood, you know." he said, something soft interwoven with the irritable tone used to mask it. "I'd rather you frown at me then use that fake smile you've got on right now."

And it was true. As annoying as it was to them not smiling, it was even more annoying to see them faking it like this.

"That was the first time you ever helped with an injury like that, right? It must have been hard."

And while the words weren't sympathetic, there was understanding withing them. Dandelionpaw fought different wars than he did, but they were battlefields all the same. He could remember the first time he ever fought in a real battle, how it hadn't been anything like he'd expected it to be. There been no gran triumph, no blazing glory. Just chaos and claws and cats trying desperately to hurt whoever they could before they themselves fell to someones teeth. Coldpaw had thought he would find glory in battle, that he'd make a name for himself as a great warrior, but he could remember how afraid he'd been that day. How his clanmates had become lost to him in the sea of writhing, screeching bodies. All the blood, all the screaming.

And yet, he knew if a time ever rose where he was called upon again, he would fall in line beside the other Windclanners and fight to defend what was theirs. Because that's what you did when you had a job to do, when there were other cats relying on you to look after them. And it was the same with Dandelionpaw. Tonight was probably the farthest thing from 'fun' the other tom could have imagined, the prestige of being able to save a life thrown into violent perspective as the reality of what was needed in order to accomplish that was brought to life. There would be pain. There would be blood. But you kept going because there were others who needed you to.​

---

windclan apprentice - male - 8 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes

 

[Dandelionwish]

The sepia point laughed at the remark, he would probably make a terrible RiverClanner because he couldn't swim but he knew a light jab when he saw one so he shrugged it off. His loudness was in part to just being so dreadfully tired of the silence at times, it was agonizing how it would press in around him and set his ears ringing when there was not enough stimulants in the area. He just liked noise, sounds, the cries of birds and chatter of clanmates; it all wove itself into a comforting shroud so he added to it as best he could. If he could spark a life, he would be happy. If he could lend a shoulder, he'd do so without hesitation. As he trailed off in lucid thought the dark tabby had continued speaking.

"What?" His lopsided grin remained as he took in the comment about his smiling, expression gradually twisting as he listened to Coldpaw continue. Fake. He warranted it was rather fake wasn't it? It was more habitual than meant to be deceptive, he was so used to putting it up he never even thought about it anymore and this was the first time someone had ever commented on it before. It was almost irritating. So what if his smile was for show? Who did it hurt? Who cared? Maybe he cared. Maybe it did hurt him. Dandelionpaw's tail lashed in a rare display of irritation before his cheerful mask dropped like it had been ripped right off his face and he let his eyes narrow and his body slouch as if giving into the weight that had been so heavily riding on his shoulders this entire time. The smile was still faintly there, but more bitter now; a skeptical smirk of disbelief.
The point tom almost wanted to laugh, but the sound would not be his usual jovial one, but a broken and exasperated sound he would expect from a cat on the precipe of falling and utterly appalled by their predicament.

That was the first time you ever helped with an injury like that, right? It must have been hard.

No. Coldpaw would not know it but he has stayed by Honeytwist's side long before he was her apprentice out of a desperation to cling to his own morality. He did not want to lose himself in this clan, this sea of cats, he wanted to remain Dandelionpaw no matter what turn of events occurred but time and time again he was tested. Pushed. Prodded. The stars themselves could not shield him from what his clan would do to him in time if he did not guard his heart. He had seen a cat on the brink of starvation, seconds from wasting away right there on the moorland grass by their clan where the freshkill pile bore fat hares and many voles. He had seen cats trampled to death by horses, bones broken and bodies twisted unaturally in such a way you thought they were a mere toy that two-leg kits played with often and could be snapped back to normal. Watching one of his own clanmates lose an eye, the way claws had shredded skin and split the white softness of the eye itself into a spewing and bloodied mash of pulp and tears. Mending wounds purposefully carved into the flesh of chests as some macabre sign of loyalty. Time and time again the thing that has hurt him and cats he has come across the most has been the callousness of his own clanmates.
The sepia point gives a soft huff of a laugh, before it grows slightly louder and he shakes his head; he is not amused. He is no longer smiling.
"What's hard, Coldpaw, is knowing that I have had to heal injuries caused by my own clanmates to eachother more than anything else thus far..." His tone was flat, accent fading in favor of a more dour and serious voice he did not often hear come from himself.

​

 

[Coldsnap]

THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

---

Yes. This was real. This he could stomach, even if the content was bitter. He observed the shift quietly, wondering what it was that kept Dandelion wanting to push for something brighter so badly. What kept them from breaking like the rest of them- like Coldpaw? As the other spoke they sounded so fed up, so unlike the cheerful, optimistic cat they were known to be. It was a rare glimpse into another side of them, like that day when Rosepaw confronted their siblings. The last cat in the clan Coldpaw expected to jump into things was Dandelionpaw -not like that.

The striped tom was quiet for a moment, not guilty, but aware that he was responsible for some of the cats Honeytwist and Dandelionpaw had to treat. He trained hard and his temper was short, a combination that left cats hurt if they -or he- wasn't careful. He wasn't the only culprit though. Half the clan were just like him, caught up in something too dark and versatile to name. It manifested itself in Soots arrogance, in Colds anger, in Hyacinths blind loyalty, a parasite that had latched on to each of them and dug deep.

"I wasn't always like this, you know." he replied, yellow eyes shifting from those of his clanmate. He didn't talk about the marsh, ever. It was a point in his life he pretended didn't exist, it and every cat who'd been a part of it dead to him now, either literally or figuratively. And he wasn't sure what was prompting him to bring it up now, if it was to rub it in Dandelion face that he'd missed his window to have a nice, fun life with the clans, or if he was trying in some weird way to offer comfort, but the words slipped from his mouth all the same. "Loyalty used to mean something. Cats used to care."

It hadn't been perfect, but it had been good.

"I don't really know what happened." he admitted, gaze shifting back to land on the other. All he knew was that he'd stopped fighitng it a long time ago. What was left to fight for, after all? His parents were dead. His siblings had abandoned him. His friends had left without a word. Why put in the effort for cats who didn't appreciate it? Who didn't understand it? Cold would have done anything for them, would have-

He cut his train of thought of, pushing down the anger and hurt that threatened to rise up at the memory.

"If it stays this way, will you leave?" he asked, gaze narrowing on the other, and while the question was spoken as neutrally as any other, it was still very plain as to what it was- a question of Dandelions loyalty to Windclan. How deep did it run in the ex-barn cat, and would that well run dry if the sepia tomcat never got to see the changes he wanted?​

---

windclan apprentice - male - 8 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes

 

[Dandelionwish]

Dandelionpaw didn't like the feeling of his face settling into anything but a smile, it made him uneasy but at least he knew he was not straining to maintain his usual cheerful facade. Perhaps sometimes it was alright to let his expression draw back into one of tired neutrality every so often, but he still wanted to smile. Not entirely to cover things up, but because he felt he owed it to himself to be happy. With everything going on he just wanted to know his place in the world was something comforting. His clanmates did make it difficult at times. He could live with patching up the occasional cat over a bit of sparring, why WindClan insisted on claws unsheathed for training he would never understand but it was the act of causing genuine harm for prideful means he could not abide by.
“Loyalty can still mean something, it's what you are loyal to that defines you.”

'Will you leave?' It felt accusatory but he liked to imagine it was also a plea-he liked Coldpaw, it would break his heart to leave the other behind, it would break his heart to leave so many behind. This clan was his family, some moreso than others, he felt an obligation to them now that he knew StarClan approved of him as one of their medicine cats. Or at least an in-training one. To leave after everything...
Was his loyalty being questioned because he was apprehensive over what was happening? That it didn’t align with his morals? Was he being questioned because he was a barn cat prior to joining and could just as easily go back to the easy lifestyle of eating mice and napping all day in the sun?

Are you loyal to WindClan or is it all you have? So you feel as if you’ve no choice but to align your morals with those higher than you?

It would be a lie to say he had not considered it before, that the thought had not literally just run through his head moments before, that Honeytwist did not murmur the idea when at her most harried and anxious and he latched onto it as a lifeline. A possibility of escaping when pushed too far, but…he probably wouldn’t. He had decided quietly to himself some time ago but had not said as much to his mentor, he didn’t want to upset her or make her feel as if she had to stay for his well being. A part of him wondered if one day she might go, take her kits and leave the moment an opening appears. He knew she was once from SkyClan, he wondered if they would even take her back all things considered; with blood on the paws of her current leader of their kin.
He couldn’t even find it in him to fully blame Sootstar, though he knew the decision to kill was hers and she might have done so less out of fear for her own life and more anger at being attacked to begin with.

“I won’t leave. Not out of fear, but hope.” The smile crept back onto his maw, eyes narrowing in an amused wrinkle, “Things will get better, ah intend to make certain o’that.” The sepia point’s accent slowly rolled back into his words as he shook himself out as if unburdening himself with the ordeal and the questions. He’d see Kestreltalon’s ruined eye in his dreams for some time, he imagined, but eventually it would be a pebble in the stream of things he would have to overcome with this clan.
"...Ah intend to fight fer it."

​

 

[Coldsnap]

IM SCARED TO GET CLOSE AND I HATE BEING ALONE
I LONG FOR THE FEELING TO NOT FEEL AT ALL
THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

---

"Loyalty can still mean something, it's what you are loyal to that defines you."

True, but that concept only meant something if every cat was willing to aspire to it. And unfortunately, all the good cats he'd known were now gone. What was left in their stead was a melting pot of personalities that all seemed to be at odds with each other, and while Dandelions optimism was admirable, the gray tabby just couldn't see how they hoped to change so many cats.

But it was the answer to Colds question that he was most interested in. He wasn't sure why it was important to him, but it was, not because it could screw over the clan but because he just needed to know. He needed something solid, an answer he could hold the other to in the future.

"I won't leave. Not out of fear, but hope."

Hope. Did Coldpaw even remember what that felt like? Was he capable of feeling it again after so long of just being numb and angry? He didn't know if he remembered how to feel anything outside of empty and angry anymore, but the smile that slowly took its place on Dandelions mouth made him wonder if it would be worth trying. He'd used to have friends, used to be so close with so many kids his own age. Quick to befriend a stranger, outgoing, competitive as all hell and the first to jump in to whatever they were doing. That was who Cold used to be. He'd known optimism like a brother back then, had been best friends with dreaming big.

Life had felt good, and he knew there was a part of him that desperately wanted those moments back. He wanted it to mean something again.

"I think.. I would fight for it too. If I could remember what it was." he admitted, a note of melancholy settling in the words. Even if he wanted to help, he was too lost in the darkness to see the light worth fighting for. What good would he be to Dandelion in this fight if he couldn't even trust his own judgment on what to act for?

"The clans lucky to have a cat like you in their corner. I can see why Starclan chose you now."

It was more than just their empathy to want to help others- a dozen cats in the clan had that same trait and it didn't make them worthy of being chosen by the stars. But Dandelion had been hiding something from the clan that their ancestors must of seen, a drive toward this thing that not Sootstar or Duskfire or either of the lead warriors had. He'd seen it in Honeytwist as well, a steadfast determination that seemed to run in an entirely different course than the goals and ambitions of the other high positions. Was this factor found within all medicine cats, are just the Windclan ones?
​

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windclan apprentice - male - 9 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes