- May 14, 2023
- 201
- 33
- 28
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NOW I KNOW WHAT'S REAL, WHAT'S FAKE
NOW I KNOW WHAT'S REAL, WHAT'S FAKE
...He's out in the camp again.
It's nighttime, and he's standing in the middle of the camp, not lying in the nursery.
This isn't strange, he's taken to leaving his nest quite often at night. He likes to look at the moon, the stars, likes the quiet and the absence. It soothes the worry of nightmares, quiets the fear that creeps in at night. He tries to be subtle about it; it's not hard, with the softness of his steps. If he's more tired than usual, well. It's not like anyone would be surprised.
...But he didn't leave his nest tonight. Or at least, he doesn't remember leaving his nest.
He swallows. Looks around. Takes stock —
At least he knows where he is this time.
He's just in camp, that's fine. That wouldn't be alarming, if he could remember doing it. He's... near the freshkill pile? He seems to have pulled out a lizard. Strange; he's not hungry. He pushes it back, near-unthinkingly. He doesn't remember his dream. He didn't last time either, and it always feels so close, like it's just within reach, like he reached for someone's tail and grasped nothing but fur. He's left disoriented, wrong-footed. All he remembers is falling asleep, and then...
Swankit glances up at the sky. The moon looms bright and glaring overhead, watching and waiting. The stars dance around it, a thousand ghostly pelts just out of reach. He can see well tonight; it's almost the full moon.
Then, a glance around the camp. Empty.
That's good. He's been lucky, not having anyone call him on it. He doesn't even have to lie this time and say he was looking at the moon again. As far as anyone knows, the incident in ThunderClan was a one time thing. He's never gone that far again, so there's no need to worry.
He's lost track of how many times it's happened now. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to worry anyone. Whatever is drawing his paws to movement in these dim nights... It's none of his concern.
The stars and the moon are his only witness tonight; they can keep his secret.
Quietly, oh so quietly, Swankit returns to the nursery to settle in beside his sisters. Just like any other night.
It's nighttime, and he's standing in the middle of the camp, not lying in the nursery.
This isn't strange, he's taken to leaving his nest quite often at night. He likes to look at the moon, the stars, likes the quiet and the absence. It soothes the worry of nightmares, quiets the fear that creeps in at night. He tries to be subtle about it; it's not hard, with the softness of his steps. If he's more tired than usual, well. It's not like anyone would be surprised.
...But he didn't leave his nest tonight. Or at least, he doesn't remember leaving his nest.
He swallows. Looks around. Takes stock —
At least he knows where he is this time.
He's just in camp, that's fine. That wouldn't be alarming, if he could remember doing it. He's... near the freshkill pile? He seems to have pulled out a lizard. Strange; he's not hungry. He pushes it back, near-unthinkingly. He doesn't remember his dream. He didn't last time either, and it always feels so close, like it's just within reach, like he reached for someone's tail and grasped nothing but fur. He's left disoriented, wrong-footed. All he remembers is falling asleep, and then...
Swankit glances up at the sky. The moon looms bright and glaring overhead, watching and waiting. The stars dance around it, a thousand ghostly pelts just out of reach. He can see well tonight; it's almost the full moon.
Then, a glance around the camp. Empty.
That's good. He's been lucky, not having anyone call him on it. He doesn't even have to lie this time and say he was looking at the moon again. As far as anyone knows, the incident in ThunderClan was a one time thing. He's never gone that far again, so there's no need to worry.
He's lost track of how many times it's happened now. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to worry anyone. Whatever is drawing his paws to movement in these dim nights... It's none of his concern.
The stars and the moon are his only witness tonight; they can keep his secret.
Quietly, oh so quietly, Swankit returns to the nursery to settle in beside his sisters. Just like any other night.
