The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: Moonlit Melancholy [c] Tue 5 Mar 2024 - 10:01
Honeydew
Honeydew couldn't sleep. Plagued by nightmare upon nightmare since the war, she jolted awake for the last time as the moon was beginning to crest the sky. Agitated, she rose from her nest and shook embedded moss from her claws. Perhaps some fresh air will help to clear my head, she decided, and made her way outside of camp, where she greeted the night guards.
"I'm just going out for a bit to clear my head," she told them. "Don't you worry about me." She padded off down the trail in the direction of the Moonlit Creek.
The forest was as familiar to her now as her own tail as she picked her way through the dense undergrowth, dodging thorn and vine, leaping across thin gullies, weaving her way between the trees. Another SkyClan cat might have taken to the branches, but Honeydew still remembered the owl attack from her first night as an apprentice, and how it caused her such anxiety about heights.
Honeydew could hear the sound of trickling water nearby, and suddenly the she-cat realized how thirsty she felt. She made for the treeline, but before she emerged, her eyes caught sight of the silhouetted form of another cat on the bank. Honeydew crouched, her eyes narrowing into slits, and parted her jaws to drink in the scent. Her hackles rose with alarm. Surely we're not being invaded again? she wondered, but the breeze was not in her favor. It carried both cats' scents downstream. I must act before it's too late!
Honeydew emerged from the brush, a growl rising in her throat. "Stop!" she commanded the cat, "Identify yourself. What are you doing in-" Her words broke off as the moon emerged from behind the clouds, shining down on the familiar face of her old mentor, Mistflower. Honeydew released a sigh of relief. "Mistflower, I'm sorry," she purred. "I didn't know it was you. What are you doing out here all by yourself?" she asked, stepping out onto the bank to join her old friend.
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"I hope that we can meet again one day, you and I," she mewed, "under peaceful skies."
Mistflower often slipped out of camp when no one was paying close attention. It was one thing to blend into the shadows, hover at the edge of a crowd, to exist and watch her Clanmates at a distance; but as of late, she hadn't found much joy in it. No, the spark of light in her heart flickered to life on occasion, but mostly it happened here; watching as the light from the moon and stars seemed to dance on the surface of the water.
In camp, and even here, she found herself searching for his face.
In the lights on the water, though, she saw something otherworldly. In flowers swaying lightly in the evening breeze, in the distant sound of birdsong.
Her thoughts and the pleasant chirping of nearby birds were both disturbed by pawsteps, the mystery of is that you brought to a swift ending as she heard the deputy--her former apprentice--calling out to an intruder, only to realize that it was only Mistflower herself.
"I come here to think," she offered freely. She'd been skittish as of late, like the old days, hiding from the majority of her Clanmates unless immediately needed for something or other. She had no reason to hide from Honeydew, a cat she still considered a friend. One of precious few, and all the more precious for the loss of another. "Especially lately. It's... Easier, to be far away. Or to pretend I am."
She paused, regarding Honeydew with her own quiet curiosity.
Honeydew settled on her haunches at the edge of the creek, listening to Mistflower's soft voice, tinged with longing. Empathy tugged at Honeydew's heart and she wrapped her long, feathery tail around the form of her old mentor and looked down into the water. It is beautiful.
"I haven't heard much from you since we arrived back in the forest," she mewed gently. "A lot has been happening within our clan. Having some peace like this, sound nice." She let the sounds of flowing water fill the silence as it fell between them, basking in their shared moment of peace.
"I was having some disturbed dreams," she admitted after a few moments. "It's been happening since the battle. All I can dream about is pain and blood and death." The young deputy shivered. "Even when I'm not asleep, sometimes I still see it, or hear it. Sometimes I smell it, too." She cast a sidelong glance at Misflower. The she-cat had always been one Honeydew could relate to. She couldn't have asked for a better mentor. Her heart was just as gentle as her own, and she had even expressed some of the same shortcomings Honeydew had experienced as a young apprentice. It is easy to talk to Mistflower about these things, she realized. I trust her.
"Are you doing okay, Mistflower?" she asked with a tilt of her head. "I have felt your absense from the clan. Is there anything I can do to help make it better for you?"
Mistflower considered Honeydew's words, humming softly in acknowledgement of her question, but didn't offer a verbal response.
Instead, she said, "I sometimes wonder if I should have been something other than SkyClan. Or if maybe I wasn't meant to be a Clan cat at all. Look at me--I took an oath, and I don't intend to break it, but anyone can tell that I'm not a warrior. Not really. Not like you, not like Stoneheart, not like--"
Foxtrot.
"Not like the others," she finished aloud. "I can't fight when it matters. I hide away, safe in the shadows. Out of sight, out of mind."
She always had been shy, skittish Mistflower.
"I thought I had changed, but... Some things stay the same."
She sighed softly.
"The blood, the death, the haunting... I don't know if it ever goes away. Maybe we just have to learn to live with the ghosts. Did we ever have a choice?"
Mistflower was keenly aware that she still hadn't answered her once-apprentice's question. She wasn't sure how to, didn't want to say no, there's nothing you can do; didn't want to give reason for her to turn away. Instead, she could offer sympathy in her sadness. A quiet, steady presence; a soft counter to the rest of harsh reality.
