i no longer find myself in the dream (c)

It was dark, and for the first time in a while, Cindersky felt hungry. Perhaps it was the lightheadness that clued her in, or the nausea of a too-empty stomach. Her appetite had long since eluded her after the battle. As much as she knew she had to, she could not bring herself to eat-- or even care about eating. Water had sufficed, but every time she tried to bite down on something-- A black paw flashed in her vision and she squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the phantasmal taste of metal and the gag that almost came with it.

She wound herself over to the fresh-kill pile and scoured it. She picked a mouse with leafbare scrawn, and decided maybe something with less work involved would be easier. There was nobody around, she thought, so see her struggle with a mouse. It gave her some kind of comfort. Not really. She sat there, staring at it for a long while. Too long, really, for a cat that was so hungry she could feel pain of it. She swallowed thickly and went to bend down. Make it quick, she told herself. Her teeth punctured its thin, taut flesh, and the scent of blood from it assailed her. She jerked back, ears pressed against her head, bile in her throat that she fought back down and for a moment she swore she was tasting that SkyClan cats blood again. And when it faded, nothing. No hunger. No care. No chill from the night. She did not feel a thing.

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Rookflight
T3 Warrior | RiverClan | they/he

Rookflight had retired with the last rays of the sun, but as the light grew thinner and thinner, they grew more and more restless. By the time it was dark, they could no longer stand to remain in their nest, feeling agitated and claustrophobic. Immediately, the cool air hitting their fur relieved them, and Rookflight sighed into the gentle breeze. Their relief was short-lived, though, as their gaze swept idly across camp--and found the form of Cindersky, sitting hunched by the fresh-kill pile.

She had been different, since war. Terribly different. The bloodshed traded there had stained the brightness emanating from her, and she carried such a foreign anger now. Rookflight's heart twisted uncomfortably in their chest. He wasn't sure whether or not approach would be welcome, but... she was his friend. He wanted to make sure he was alright, as he did for Perchstar; he wanted, at least, to be beside her if she wasn't okay. When she began to flinch away from whatever sat between her paws, Rookflight's mind was immediately made up. He rocked once on his paws before starting to properly move, padding over to her. He approached from in front of her, where she could easily see him coming, and stayed a tail-length or so back should she flinch at his presence.

"Cindersky," he whispered, "hello." Catching the dull look in her eyes, as well as the half-torn mouse she must have been attempting to eat, brought that coil back to his chest. It pressed so tightly against every organ in him that it made Rookflight nauseous, but he swallowed down around the feeling. "Would you like some company? ...It may be easier, with- with a distraction."

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Cindersky jerked, sudden. Her claws shot out and before she could move her eyes locked onto black fur and-- Rookflight. And calm came again. She blinked. It was like a reset to her. Close her eyes slowly, open them. Grounding, and she did not feel like she was about to be assailed again. Not the SkyClan cat. She almost forgot to answer him when he spoke, and near choked on her own words when she did.

"I... Maybe," She said hoarsely, flicking her tongue out at dry lips and looking back down at the mouse. The two clean puncture marks made her stomach twist. She clenched her teeth and let out a shuddering breath. It was not a cat. Not a cat. She should not have to teach herself how to eat solids again. It should come as second nature.

She put one paw on it, on the top half of it so she did not have to look into its clouded eyes. With her claw, she thought maybe if she tore a piece of meat off it would not cause the same reaction. She gripped a piece of it and tugged-- And immediately shuddered and let go. So much like a cat. "Is it the fur?" She asked. Not that Rookflight would even know why she was struggling with it. This felt silly. She wanted a hole to hide in. But she needed to eat. It hurt.

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Rookflight
T3 Warrior | RiverClan | they/he

Nothing passed through Rookflight's expression at the way Cindersky tensed and jerked away. Their heart and gut and everything in between though, already painfully constricted with worry, drew even closer together. This skittishness was nothing like her natural anxiety. There was a prickle to her that was so far from the entirety of Cindersky's character... Rookflight said. Well, it was hers now. They let go a soft sigh, as if any of their concerns had been expelled, and drew into a tight sit at Cindersky's side.

Watching her struggle just to eat was a miserable experience. Rookflight was selfishly grateful they hadn't been chosen for the war party. They could never imagine seeing those horrors up close... but at the same time, something hot started to pulse under their fur. Wouldn't it have made more sense to select them rather than so-recently-wounded Cindersky? But now was not the time to entertain their frustration. Now was the time to focus on Cindersky.

"Perhaps," he mumbled mildly. "Though, to be truthful... I doubt it." Their tail curled very gently against Cindersky's shoulder. Quiet sympathy shone in the backlight of Rookflight's eyes when they looked away from the mouse toward her. "It may be the flesh... the blood. ...I imagine it is not so different from biting into a cat." Even Rookflight shuddered at the thought, and they did not have the experience. "But that is okay. You will not starve; we will not let you." They were trying to be encouraging, but even they were uncertain. They did not want to be vague, but speaking frankly felt cruel; that was how they proceeded, regardless. "Perhaps we could try bleeding the prey to see if that is the case. ...you will not have to watch, either. Do not worry."

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