rolling like thunder [c]

Since the Asylum's takeover, Batbite had done her best to pretend she didn't care all that much about the newest threat that held the forest clans beneath its paws. Oh, she was openly cynical toward them, in the same off-handed way she was cynical about many things - including ThunderClan itself, on more than a few occasions - but she didn't see much of a point in actively antagonizing them. Besides, she wasn't much of a threat to them in any way that mattered - she knew her strengths, and it wasn't like she could beat one of their cats in a fight. Best to remain light-hearted, to keep them from taking her too seriously.

It was easier to learn more about them that way, if nothing else.

(It helped, admittedly, that she was often only half pretending. These cats came from Elsewhere, after all, and that in itself was intriguing to her; but then this helplessness was all too familiar too, when it seemed they were fated to have their freedom won and lost in an endless chase. It was different, and yet it was all the same.)

There were many, many things from the Righteous War that she didn't want to repeat, but one memory stood out in particular; the details were faded and fuzzy at the edges, but she recalled being weak and only half there herself, and yet charging into the territory after her too-reckless mate who had chosen to take matters in his own paws. Well, with Mossbloom's assistance - just keeping upright on her own had proven a struggle at the time.

(She loved Minkstream, more than she'd ever really thought she could, but she could live without the dread and fear she'd felt that night. If she never felt it again, it would still be much too soon.)

Minkstream, who was presently by her side, still in one piece - and thank the stars for that, which was no small miracle in itself - but now she wanted to ensure he stayed that way. "You know," she murmured, leaning against his side. "I think we need to discuss a few things."

Those were dangerous words. She knew that, of course, but this was a dangerous situation. Every step they made had to be carefully calculated. She was all too aware of the eyes on them, all too careful to speak softly and hope they couldn't hear the details of what she was saying.

"It's nothing bad. At least, it shouldn't be."

It was what felt like a single moment of rest in a storm. All of Asylum - the watching from the shadows and the fox pelts at the edge of his vision every time he moved - it wasn't gone, but for this moment, it was mostly at the back of his mind. Though he couldn't help but feel as Batbite's pelt stayed comfortably by his side that it wasn't just going to be a moment of idle conversation, fluffy and light, completely devoid of the weight of the situation and detached as far as possible from it. Personally, for once he didn't feel in the mood to pretend everything was fine.

Perhaps he'd tried that too often to hold any delusions that it would actually help.

He glanced down at the top of her head as she leaned against him, a smile tugging at the edge of his maw, for the moment content to stay in the quietness of the moment. When she did break it, his ear twitched slightly, picking up a hint of something beneath the casualness of the first couple words. And stiffening as she continued on.

"I think we need to discuss a few things."

His heart picked up the pace slightly, muscles tensing subtly - unconsciously. A couple of possibilities for those words flitted through his head, and for just a moment his mind flicked to his conversation with their kit - Lirista - a tight feeling briefly tugging at his insides. Stars, not that. With a mental shake of his head, he pushed the thought firmly away where it belonged. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be that. Hopefully. Not now, anyway. Letting the brief irrational unease fade away, he shifted slightly without pulling away from her touch to look down at her better, curiously searching what he could see of her green eyes as she continued.

"When you say it like that...." He tilted his head slightly, letting a vague hint of teasing into his tone. "I'm not sure whether that means it's good, either."

"Perhaps that's a matter of perspective," Batbite mused, and despite her still-somber tone she soaked in the warmth of her mate. It was a too-sweet reminder of everything that kept her there, even now. "It's about our new friends," she murmured.

(The Asylum would tempt her, she's pretty sure, if she did not have her family to lean on. The promise of freedom is always sweet, the temptation always there, but she already knows there is nothing they could do - nothing they could give - to make her happier than this.)

"I just need to know. You aren't planning on something drastic, are you? I still remember being half-awake, chasing after you... Please, all I ask is that you don't scare me like that again." She paused, but this was one of those days where there was more to be said. "I love you. I love our family. More than this forest and everywhere we've been, more than I could ever love any place..." I need you to understand, this place isn't home without you. That I've been lucky enough to love you is a miracle of its own... I don't think I can lose you. "No matter what you choose to do, I'll stay by your side. That's the choice I made, isn't it? More than any other."

(The shadows watching kept her from saying what she really wanted to: Tell me, are you doing something crazy? Count me in!, the words so much more her own (though the ones she spoke were no less honest, those were the thoughts she preferred to keep to herself), on the tip of her tongue. But she held them back, because she loved him more than the adrenaline rush. More than her own freedom. He had chosen safety, had chosen ThunderClan at her request, and her own choice was made in that same breath.)

The sigh that escaped her was more soft than tired, for once, and entirely genuine. "We've been through a lot, haven't we? Since the very start."

(The memories were bittersweet, but perhaps nostalgia was why she looked back on them with fondness now; wishing for another time. The fears they faced back then feel like old queen's tales now, distant memories of the things they survived. She hoped that this tale, someday, would find its place among them.)

He listened as she spoke, simply breathing and letting her words catch his ears; let them wind down through into his mind and muse there, bringing memories floating back to the surface. New friends. That brought a slight grimace to his maw, nothing overtly displeased, just a quick downwards turn of his lips - any Asylum cats wouldn't see anything antagonizing in that, unless they happened to be one of hyper-sensitive types. That mention brought the night like a winding nightmare back again, a sudden blending of dream and reality in a horrifying twist that still brought a shiver to his spine when he let it leak back in front of his eyes. The horror of it had gradually faded, like the ache in his bruised ribs and cuts on his skin, but the simmering discomfort and edginess that it brought hadn't....

And with that another twinge of discomfort, a sheepish one this time at her question.  He too, could still remember that - like a dream, being trapped in his own skin and watching himself plunge towards death without a care in the world, hazy and full of throbbing fury, rancid heat. Pressing slightly tighter to her side, mute, he couldn't help but think it was the worst mistake he'd almost made. Thank the stars that Bat and Mossbloom had been there to talk him out of it - that he'd been lucid enough for their words to pierce through his thick, fever-dream filled head. "Please, all I ask is that you don't scare me like that again." Her words stabbed a thorn into his heart - of guilt, and... of fear.

I don't want to, but... stars know if I can stop myself. For just a heartbeat he hesitated in her pause, before his quiet murmur broke the gentle beat of their hearts. "I... won't."

He closed his eyes as she went on, the beat of his heart speaking for him as he let his chin rest on the curling softness of her fur. Everything that she was... everything they'd been through together... He wouldn't change a moment of it, not if it meant giving her up. This little family, this little piece of StarClan they'd somehow come to together. He could still remember that day, the fearful twist in his gut at what committing himself like this would do, whether he could stand to lose another to the violent river of this world.

That was, without a doubt, the best decision he'd ever made. Maybe that was why almost throwing it away for something so mousebrained like he'd almost done in attempting to challenge the Righteous Few made the hair along his spine prickle. Sometimes... he could be so selfish it hurt him, and not just those around him. That hunt with Kerath ran through his mind. The secrets and memories he tried so hard to forget and erase simply by keeping them locked away.... I can't afford to think like that anymore. The liberties that I had, the excuses that justified keeping those away... I don't have them anymore. Probably never did. And not telling Bat about his crazy plan.... He almost couldn't believe it, now, looking back. He'd thought that in keeping her away from his suicidal decision that she wouldn't get hurt. Now, that just looked to him like locking her out; like he'd done with everything, trying to keep the pain away, trying to get the memories out of his head.

I won't lose her, or any of them, like that. I'd rather die beside her than leave her alone in the dark, wondering why. Of course, he'd rather it not be because of a stupidly impulsive decision he'd made in the grip of rage and fever - preferably not because of any decision of his at all. I've made enough of those.

Her sigh vibrated in his rib cage, quiet but felt in every bone of his body. A slight, ghostly smile pulled at the corners of his maw at her words, a tinge of melancholy edging it. "A lot. That's almost an understatement," He mused quietly, eyes tracing the edge of a cloud above in the leaf-bare sky, a bird flitting over the ravine and all the cats below, high and silhouetted against that cold blue. "I remember back in the beginning - we stood on the Great Rock, and we looked out on all that empty space...." His eyes half-closed, remembering. The green of the grass and the sigh of the oak leaves - the very scent of adventure and the unknown winding on the breeze. Strange that it felt so vivid and yet so distant. "The world felt endless, just like it'd never stop, like we'd never get to the horizon. Like we could take it all."

And then he'd spent a couple of moons hanging around until the time they'd set, his paws tugging towards that horizon, longing to be free of the memories, grief, and death that had plagued him. He should have known he couldn't escape it - it was just part of life. It was what you chose to live with when you chose to live life with others.

His eyes opened again, ears listening to the still calm of the air stirring through the ravine, touching branches and bush leaves, rasping against the ground and ruffling his fur. A quiet breath blew free of his maw. The memories made him want to ramble, but he knew he was just putting off facing up to the answers yet again. Part of that was probably because he didn't know what they were. "I... don't want to end up running off on a kit's pike hunt again, Bat, but..." He half-grimaced, one corner of his maw twitching upwards. "You know me. I'm not sure I can keep away from it. But I won't keep you out of it, not this time."

"Everything that's happened..." He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the closest shadow, his voice dropping into the barest rumble of a murmur. "We have to do something, sometime. And we have to do it soon - I can feel the pull, the whispers. The longer we stay like this, the closer we come to giving up. And I... I can feel it clinging to the bottom of my paws. Like mud."

Admitting it brought it back, the sense of hopelessness that fought to break through at the edges of his mind, that threatened to rear up and drag him under with its apathy. None of them had died, not after Pinefrost. What if.... He shook it off, the breeze suddenly seeming colder, bringing with it vague fears and sinister dread curling like ice into the pit of his stomach.

Those were the words she'd needed to hear more than any other. A promise that she wouldn't be left in the dark, if nothing else. That even if she couldn't follow him into the shadows, he wouldn't disappear without a word.

"It's funny, you know," she mused. "Back then, it felt like we were invincible. Now we've seen so much more, and I can hardly remember what that ever felt like. Still, if we never found the horizon in all our travels, at least we have ourselves to show for it all."

At least I have you.

As he assured her that she wouldn't be left without an answer, she nuzzled him in response. "That's all I'm asking," she said softly, her own voice following his into near-inaudibility. "That you don't leave me in the darkness. You're right, though, that this isn't sustainable. Not in the least." She shifted slightly, more for show than actual discomfort, before settling again. "Well, all I know is we'll survive. We always do. Even setting that aside... We've come too far, I think - survived too much - to give up now."

Allowing her voice to return to its normal volume, she nudged him affectionately. "We'll be alright."

Bat's words stuck in his mind for a moment. "...I can hardly remember what that ever felt like."

Honestly, he couldn't quite, either. The feeling remained, the vague impression of what had been, but it felt so distant. Almost like it had happened to another cat. In a way, it had. Had he really been that tom that abandoned his Clan and what was left of his kin to run into the grasses and find himself in the middle of the unknown...? That cat now looked over at RiverClan longingly, even with the bloody scars still staining his mind, even as he felt repelled by the bittersweet memories of days gone by. Come to think of it, even if he'd changed from that young, desperately eager and torn apart tom, he still had parts of him bouncing around, even if they'd been tempered by experience.

"At least we have ourselves to show for it all."

A small smile pulled at the corner of his maw, her nuzzle ruffling his fur thawing the icy dread still swirling in the pit of his gut. No, he wasn't the same as he had been, because he'd found himself. Even if he still did find himself tracking down wayward bits from time to time, that was where everything had turned, where the endless horizon had led. Maybe... they could take on the world again. After all, dregs of that world had come to them in the form of Asylum. No, they couldn't give up, they wouldn't.

He returned her nudge with a smile that curved up the corners of his maw, probably the most genuine one he'd given in days, and touched his nose to her ear tip. Funny how her words could drive the chill away, and set up that wavering flicker of determination back where it was meant to be. "You're right - we will. We'll get through it." He breathed out, deliberately letting his focus slip off the lingering Asylum pelts and just to where they were, to that moment. "Somehow. There has to be something out there - some kind of plan we can make."

Last time, he remembered that there had been some kind of uprising organized by that WindClan cat. The chances that they could do something like that again with Asylum everywhere were slim, but there had to be something they could do. Something. Somewhere. Somehow.