LICHENPAW ❁
and into the night [ 10.12.23 ]
- Dec 27, 2022
- 123
- 39
- 28
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SOMETIMES I CAN'T BELIEVE IT
SOMETIMES I CAN'T BELIEVE IT
Every muscle in Lichenpaw's body holds taut, blood rushing in his ears as though he is the one on trial, not Basilwhisker. Basilwhisker's voice holds a steadiness that Lichenpaw's never does. Always standing so tall, statuesque. Lichenpaw's pillar, his rock, his big brother, his closest friend, his only family —
He can't breathe.
Lichenpaw's vision feels fuzzy, distant, unfocused and swimming. Every word he hears lances through his running mind, far too loud. Pinpricks under his skin liks claws digging in, like dog-teeth grasping, like mangling and gnashing and all the physical pain that would be so much easier to accept.
Blood on his paws, ringing in his ears. Sunnyday's body mangled on the thunderpath, imagination rather than memory.
Maybe Lichenpaw should have killed Sunnyday instead, when he had the chance. Spare his brother the punishment. The thought makes him sick. But it'd be worth it, right? For Basilwhisker, for Parker? Parker, who sought him out when he was all alone, Parker, who was always the one so insistent on looking out for each other. Parker, who is good. Better than Lou, better than Lichenpaw has ever been.
When did things change? Why is Lichenpaw the one ThunderClan looks to for guidance, while their brother is scorned?
Lichenpaw's claws dig into the ground. He's been so content playing at medicine cat, acting like he can help. Lichenpaw can't protect anyone, can't even keep his own brother safe. He's sick, Basilwhisker is sick, and the council is banishing him like they don't even care.
Exile might as well be a death sentence.
As soon as Basilwhisker is released, to be escorted to the border with two gaurds, Lichenpaw lurches forwards. The ground feels unsteady beneath his paws as he surges towards his brother. Murderer, murderer, murderer, scream the piercing eyes of his clanmates, the betrayed words they call. You are no ThunderClan cat. And he never was, not truly, and now Lichenpaw is caught in between his brother and his clan and —
They bury their face into their brother's fur, releasing a shaky breath. Their clanmates will no doubt expect them to condemn him as they do, but he's their brother. They don't resent him, can't judge him. They'd still love him, no matter what he did, and that hasn't changed. But — selfishly, childishly, there is anger there too. For messing up, for making everyone look at him like this, for leaving him when he's supposed to protect them. For making him choose, because he knows he has to know, between Basilwhisker and ThunderClan.
Lichenpaw knows what Basilwhisker will want him to choose. Knows what he will choose. The knowledge makes it feel like his chest is caving in, his heart collapsing.
He can't breathe.
Lichenpaw wants to defend him, wants to condemn him with lying words to appeal to his clanmates like he's always tried to do, wants to beg him not to leave, beg Howlingstar to change her mind. He does none of these things. "C'mon," he chokes instead, voice muffled by his brother's fur. "Let's — c'mon, let's - let's- let's go." Because Lichenpaw can go with him, to the border, thankfully.
...To say goodbye.
He can't breathe.
Lichenpaw's vision feels fuzzy, distant, unfocused and swimming. Every word he hears lances through his running mind, far too loud. Pinpricks under his skin liks claws digging in, like dog-teeth grasping, like mangling and gnashing and all the physical pain that would be so much easier to accept.
Blood on his paws, ringing in his ears. Sunnyday's body mangled on the thunderpath, imagination rather than memory.
Maybe Lichenpaw should have killed Sunnyday instead, when he had the chance. Spare his brother the punishment. The thought makes him sick. But it'd be worth it, right? For Basilwhisker, for Parker? Parker, who sought him out when he was all alone, Parker, who was always the one so insistent on looking out for each other. Parker, who is good. Better than Lou, better than Lichenpaw has ever been.
When did things change? Why is Lichenpaw the one ThunderClan looks to for guidance, while their brother is scorned?
Lichenpaw's claws dig into the ground. He's been so content playing at medicine cat, acting like he can help. Lichenpaw can't protect anyone, can't even keep his own brother safe. He's sick, Basilwhisker is sick, and the council is banishing him like they don't even care.
Exile might as well be a death sentence.
As soon as Basilwhisker is released, to be escorted to the border with two gaurds, Lichenpaw lurches forwards. The ground feels unsteady beneath his paws as he surges towards his brother. Murderer, murderer, murderer, scream the piercing eyes of his clanmates, the betrayed words they call. You are no ThunderClan cat. And he never was, not truly, and now Lichenpaw is caught in between his brother and his clan and —
They bury their face into their brother's fur, releasing a shaky breath. Their clanmates will no doubt expect them to condemn him as they do, but he's their brother. They don't resent him, can't judge him. They'd still love him, no matter what he did, and that hasn't changed. But — selfishly, childishly, there is anger there too. For messing up, for making everyone look at him like this, for leaving him when he's supposed to protect them. For making him choose, because he knows he has to know, between Basilwhisker and ThunderClan.
Lichenpaw knows what Basilwhisker will want him to choose. Knows what he will choose. The knowledge makes it feel like his chest is caving in, his heart collapsing.
He can't breathe.
Lichenpaw wants to defend him, wants to condemn him with lying words to appeal to his clanmates like he's always tried to do, wants to beg him not to leave, beg Howlingstar to change her mind. He does none of these things. "C'mon," he chokes instead, voice muffled by his brother's fur. "Let's — c'mon, let's - let's- let's go." Because Lichenpaw can go with him, to the border, thankfully.
...To say goodbye.
I'M MOVING PAST THE FEELING !
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