The Invisible Girl [S]

RiverClan had settled into something akin to relative normalcy for the first time in moons. Just as suddenly as they'd arrived, the twolegs and their dogs had disappeared, leaving behind an over-fished river, terrified prey, and exhausted, battered warriors. Still, they were gone, and their departure offered RiverClan a bit of hope to cling to as the seasons grew cooler.

It was safe to hunt again, to wander the territory without glancing over one's shoulder every other step. Still, as the Clan looked forward to a safe and– StarClan willing –prosperous leaf-fall, Cloverheart couldn't help but feel... distinctly out of place.

She was doing little more than going through the motions. Trot over here, pad over there... hide away under the shelter of sedge and reeds, pretending to count and sort herbs she'd already memorized the tally on that morning... look over that warrior, keep an ear pricked for any sign of cats coughing, it was almost that season... finally feel brave enough to venture the territory alone, something she hadn't done since she was a 'paw... pick up this herb, that one, say hi to that patrol, pretend not to notice that one, crawl back into her nest and try to get sleep that only came in fitful bursts, leaving her exhausted.

Had she been eating? As the medicine cat lurked under the foliage framing her den, she tried to remember that much. It felt like she'd been forgetting the important things, lately. Did she eat that day? If so, what had it been? Fish? Of course... that was the obvious answer. It'd been forever since she'd seen the fresh-kill pile properly stocked with fish. Mice, water voles, the periodic squirrel or bird. A frog or two here and then, even. Had she had a mouse then? That morning, maybe, after sorting through her den?

She couldn't recall. It must not have been that important, then...

Screwing up her nose, Cloverheart prodded deeper into her thoughts, wondering what else she might have forgotten. She knew she had forgotten... something. Something, and she knew it was important. But... what was it? Every time she tried to remember, it skipped her mind. Like she was trying to paw at something through a thick bank of fog, but no matter how close it seemed, every grasp was only met with dense, empty air.

Had it been Dennis? How long had it been since he'd disappeared? The little cat rose to her paws, brushing her shoulders against the reeds as she made an attempt to step out of her den. But it was dark, the swelling moon already high in the sky, and she couldn't find it in herself to be bold enough to make a trek out of camp so late in the night, so she stepped back into the safety of her den with a sigh.

Oh, she had seen the moon just then. "It's getting bigger... I should pay attention to that. I need to remember the half-moon meeting. Maybe I should say something to Ivystar." She murmured to no one in particular. As quickly as the idea came, she thought better of it; she could remember on her own, she didn't need to pester Ivystar about it. She was busy enough on her own.

But– what had she been about to leave for?

Right. She'd been trying to think about Dennis.

Maybe it had only been a day, maybe two. She wasn't quite so sure anymore. Had it been seasons? Had he been there during– after?... during what? What was it she was trying to remember? Her mouth drew into a deep frown, lip curling slightly to reveal a hint of sharp teeth. Frustration bubbled just under her skin, making her fur feel tight and her head feel fuzzy.

"Fuzzy... foggy..." she huffed. She spared a glance downwards, pale green eyes focused intently on the scars wrapping around each foreleg. They were nasty, and she felt them with every movement, but they had gotten better. Every step didn't feel like lightning, anymore. There were bad days, but she could manage fine on her own. Even on her worst pain days, she had no choice but to manage.

She tried to avoid looking at her scars, as much as she could. They were ugly, and examining them left her feeling cold, left her stomach turning. But they made her feel something, at least. Something distinct that she could name, that she could knew.

Anger. That was it– it was as simple as that. The longer she stared at them, she slowly came to realize something.

Cloverheart blinked slowly, and curled her thin tail around her legs, covering what she could of the horrible marks. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened to her. Words and names floated vaguely threw her mind– Wolfstar, SkyClan, moor... but she couldn't put find a way to put them together. Had SkyClan attacked RiverClan? No, that wasn't right... she squinted as she thought harder. WindClan, then? That sounded better... but why? And why had she been there?

There was something else there. Something bigger than Dennis, bigger than her mauled legs. How could I have forgotten it? Where is it? Whatever it had been, she didn't know. Knowing she didn't know made her feel nauseous. She had to know, and it was right there, but she couldn't grasp it.

How could she have forgotten? It was important, so important... but it just wasn't there.

Pressing for memories was starting to make her head spin, so she sighed and lifted her head, staring vacantly at the ceiling of her den. Missing, missing... she was missing something. She had to find it.

But what was she looking for? How would she know when she found it?

Nights of little sleep caught up with her amidst the dizziness, and Cloverheart wondered if retiring for the night was a good idea. She couldn't look after her Clan if she couldn't even get up in the morning.

"Maybe I should eat... then I'll calm down." She mewed, her voice soft and small. But before she could get to her paws, the thought of leaving her den overwhelmed her, and she shrunk further away from the mouth, retreating to a corner where the light of the moon couldn't reach her.

With a hum, she hovered over her herb stores, looking wistfully at her collection of poppy seeds. "I need to sleep..." she crooned, and she was about to collect a pawful before she stopped short, balance wavering with one leg left hanging dead in the air. "Oh, but someone else might need them more. I don't want to waste them."

Out of options, the little cat heaved a sigh as she found her nest and settled into it, drawing her hind legs against her belly and curling her tail against her flank. Cloverheart rested her chin against her paws, forcing her eyes to stay closed instead of watching the shadows twist over the walls of the den. She couldn't force sleep to come, but the longer she lay there and willed her breathing to be shallow and even, she found she could doze off. Any rest was better than none, now.