private you are the rustling of leaves / fern

[Needledrift]

She awakes to an empty nest again. It had been days since Chittertongue's sudden departure, leaving nothing but the faint scent of the Carrionplace in their once shared nest. Needledrift had searched for him with no luck, his scent went cold somewhere around the Carrionplace, as it always did when he wandered away. She should be used to this by now, but this time... things felt different. She felt different. His absence stung, it hurt, almost as she opened her jaw as wide as it would go and reached down into her gullet to squeeze her own heart until it ached. Invisible claws gripped at every heartbeat.

She is grieving, grieving for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling she didn't care to wallow in if she could help it, but these lonely nights had begun to wear on her. Her eyes tickle as she stares at the empty spot beside her, the moss still flattened as if he had just gotten up to get a snack. He wouldn't be back this time, would he?

Needledrift swallows back a sob at the thought and she buries her face in her nest to stifle the noise. It would be rude to wake any of her clanmates with her petty sorrows at this time of night. @FERNDANCE ​

 

[FERNDANCE]

Disappearances would always be worse than deaths in the mind of the moggy. To die is to have closure, to vanish is to spend every waking hour wondering if one would show up again or if you would only see them amidst the stars. Needledrift's position was not one the Lead Warrior envied but it was one she understood. When Dogfur had disappeared, she had spent countless hours wrestling with the funny feelings in her stomach, trying her hardest to get it under control and tearing up old trinkets when it wasn't as easy as she wanted it to be. It was perhaps that empathy, however scarce in most situations, that caused the Lead Warrior to keep an eye open that night, not for Needledrift, but for Chittertongue. Should his form come waltzing into the den once more, she would know then to avert her gaze and wake her friend up so she could be the first one to see her beloved again. An ear twitched at an alien noise, breath hitched - had her heroic fantasy come true? Had a lost ShadowClanner returned home? She swivelled that same appendage around - rustling, but mixed with something unnatural, unwarranted.

The tabby slowly lifted her head and surveyed her surroundings, catching the culprit after a minute of observations. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a ShadowClanner sad. Even as tragedy and ruin filled their cursed swamp, there was a callousness to her clanmates that allowed them to keep on going, no matter the odds. A bit of cruelty was needed to survive nature, but she would not offer it to Needledrift. Silently, she got up from her cluttered moss bed and traipsed over the sleeping bodies of friends and enemies alike. When she reached the blue and white feline, a sorrowful smile appeared on Ferndance's muzzle. "You're really loud," she whispered with a lighthearted air, tucking her forepaws beneath her. The scent beneath her was fading, causing the Lead Warrior to tuck her tail close to her own body. One day, had circumstances permitted, she'd have perhaps liked to add her own flare to the nest, but the thought of replacing the old one entirely caused Ferndance's throat to grow dry. 'It's ok, it's just a quick chat...' she reassured herself, gently nudging the other's leg with a pale nose, trying to prompt Needledrift to look up.

"Did you want to step outside and get some air? You can tell me what's wrong then if you'd like."

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