![Patchpaw [in.]](/data/avatars/l/0/673.jpg?1665193031){kind=avatar}
- Oct 4, 2022
- 87
- 4
- 8
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE
cw for nightmares & trauma
She was standing in middle of a forest.
No—the forest. She had an inkling this was the ThunderClan forest, but not a single fern, tree or bush was even remotely recognizable, only the large fallen tree swarming with maggots facing her. When she tried to turn, it felt as though vines had wrapped around her paws, keeping her frozen to that same place. The clearing remained still and silent around her like someone or something had killed everything living. Cats, foxes, deer, even the mice and squirrels and birds, they were all gone. There was only the strange insects left which now surrounded her.
Her fur stood on end. Something was so terribly wrong with this forest, but no matter where she looked around, she was the only one standing there. Her claws dug into the dirt as she struggled to control her breathing when someone’s paws brushed along her spine—
Patchpaw jerked awake, scattering moss across the floor of a decently-sized cave with weak, scrambling paws. Her panicking lungs stung at the chilly air she was inhaling, but she welcomed the feeling quite gratefully. Her father rest in the nest next to hers, his face wrought tight with concern in his sleep. His paws twitched. That must've been what I felt, Patchpaw thinks to herself, and recognizing that it was in fact her dad, she could feel her hackles beginning to flatten again.
She gingerly rests herself back down with a wince. A new, dull, aching pain came from her face, and she rubbed at her nose with her wrist and cobwebs stuck to her white fur in tiny silvery strands. She couldn't open her left eye, either—everything was black, blocked by her scrunched up eyelid.
This was...not the apprentice’s den, surely...but if my dad's here, then... Now that she was waking up properly, her head had begun to throb and her limbs felt stiff and waterlogged as she shifts to look over at her father. With Berryheart’s permission, he stayed by her side all night, restlessly checking up on her until he had finally fallen asleep early in the morning. It must be… what, midday then? Patchpaw wasn’t sure. She turned her head in a slow circle, using her one good eye to inspect the den she rested in. She was beginning to recognize the herb storage nearby, the small pool of clear, tranquil water, and the fern tunnel that lead back outside to the rest of the clan camp. At the sight of the water, Patchpaw licked her lips; her mouth was incredibly dry. When she caught the metallic tang of blood, she spat it out and wrinkled her nose. Gross. It was hardly a leap to know this was the medicine cat’s den. She was safe back inside camp… at least, for the time being. That word wasn’t sitting right with her anymore.
But where was Berryheart? Where was Rabbitnose and the rest of their border patrol?
And what happened to that tom?
She was standing in middle of a forest.
No—the forest. She had an inkling this was the ThunderClan forest, but not a single fern, tree or bush was even remotely recognizable, only the large fallen tree swarming with maggots facing her. When she tried to turn, it felt as though vines had wrapped around her paws, keeping her frozen to that same place. The clearing remained still and silent around her like someone or something had killed everything living. Cats, foxes, deer, even the mice and squirrels and birds, they were all gone. There was only the strange insects left which now surrounded her.
Her fur stood on end. Something was so terribly wrong with this forest, but no matter where she looked around, she was the only one standing there. Her claws dug into the dirt as she struggled to control her breathing when someone’s paws brushed along her spine—
Patchpaw jerked awake, scattering moss across the floor of a decently-sized cave with weak, scrambling paws. Her panicking lungs stung at the chilly air she was inhaling, but she welcomed the feeling quite gratefully. Her father rest in the nest next to hers, his face wrought tight with concern in his sleep. His paws twitched. That must've been what I felt, Patchpaw thinks to herself, and recognizing that it was in fact her dad, she could feel her hackles beginning to flatten again.
She gingerly rests herself back down with a wince. A new, dull, aching pain came from her face, and she rubbed at her nose with her wrist and cobwebs stuck to her white fur in tiny silvery strands. She couldn't open her left eye, either—everything was black, blocked by her scrunched up eyelid.
This was...not the apprentice’s den, surely...but if my dad's here, then... Now that she was waking up properly, her head had begun to throb and her limbs felt stiff and waterlogged as she shifts to look over at her father. With Berryheart’s permission, he stayed by her side all night, restlessly checking up on her until he had finally fallen asleep early in the morning. It must be… what, midday then? Patchpaw wasn’t sure. She turned her head in a slow circle, using her one good eye to inspect the den she rested in. She was beginning to recognize the herb storage nearby, the small pool of clear, tranquil water, and the fern tunnel that lead back outside to the rest of the clan camp. At the sight of the water, Patchpaw licked her lips; her mouth was incredibly dry. When she caught the metallic tang of blood, she spat it out and wrinkled her nose. Gross. It was hardly a leap to know this was the medicine cat’s den. She was safe back inside camp… at least, for the time being. That word wasn’t sitting right with her anymore.
But where was Berryheart? Where was Rabbitnose and the rest of their border patrol?
And what happened to that tom?
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