A Million Dreams [Closed]

Hope.

It was the very thing that had driven him away from his past in Riverclan, a past that was mostly lost in time. At least, his own time. Stepping away from the home that had been so foreign to him in so many ways had provided that sense of hope. There was something more out there that he had yet to discover. But that would have to wait. In the short span of time that he had been with Thunderclan, it seemed like illness was determined to cling to his throat and steal his breath.

At least the cats here were kind and welcoming, and Lynxtail was here. The warrior, his companion, who he now finally got to spend more time with was constantly nearby. They were no longer separated by borders or threatened by the idea that someone would find them. Not that it had even been a thought in his mind. But the other warrior seemed to care. Remembering their time at Sunningrocks sent a purr through his chest. It dissolved into another fit of coughing. The medicine cats hadn't seemed hopeful about his condition. It couldn't be that bad, right?

His head lay heavy on his paws and he blinked a few times but sleep wouldn't come easy. After what seemed like an eternity, a familiar pelt came through the entrance and his green eyes glanced up to meet the other tom's gaze with a weak smile.

"If I could breath right now... I might think this was a dream."

The den was empty- the golden-brown tom had made sure of that before grabbing the squirrels from the fresh-kill pile. He didn't want to be too open about whatever this was (Lynxtail wasn't even sure what it was, if he was being honest). He was probably being overly cautious, but he didn't want to seem too obvious.

He padded surreptitiously into the den, his tufted ears perking as soon as the moss curtain fell back into place behind him. "Good morning, love," He placed the fresh-kill on the ground and gently pressed his forehead against Sparkfrost's, purring.
At the sound of the calico's voice, the tabby warrior took a small step back. "How are you?" He mewed, peering into Spark's hazel eyes nervously. He'd bombarded Pricklebush with questions about Sparkfrost's health, but the fluffy tom wouldn't give him a straight answer. Stepping closer once more, the Lynxtail nuzzled Sparkfrost's (disconcertingly warm) ears before sitting down beside him and drawing the squirrels closer, nudging one in front of the calico tom. "You should eat something."