Perfect Porcelain (C)

Another freezing leaf-bare night came over the forest. White flakes of snow drifted down from clouds at a leisurely pace, falling gently onto the moss-coated warriors' den of RiverClan camp. A chilly breeze whistled through the trees; a low, almost-moaning sound that haunted the darkness. Whispers of the wind came through the small hole in the den's corner, by where Perchfall kept her sparse nest. Despite all efforts to patch it up, something always fell off, leaving a tiny but substantial breath of cold air that blew over her back as she slept. Usually, she could just curl up as small as possible, and take what little rest she could get before the next day dawned with its responsibilities. Tonight, however, there were too many things keeping her awake. Thoughts, worries... memories. Too much. And to top it all off, the one time she did manage to slip into a restless doze, the nightmare came again. A gray tom, hanging limp from the jaws of a fox, dripping blood. Green eyes dull and lifeless. The image lingered in her mind as she tried to push it away, shuddering unconsciously.

Ever since the patrol where they had been ambushed by that fox, Perchfall had been haunted by every second of it. His cries of pain... her uncontrollable emotions... her only friend almost dying. She had barely managed to help him limp back to the medicine den. Thankfully, Ashflight had healed up well enough that he was allowed back in the warriors' den. During the few nights that he slept in Cloverheart's den, after her own shoulder wound had been patched up, she would always awaken in worry that something had happened to him again. Then, silently, the deputy would slip out of her nest to go check on him. She never woke him up, of course-- just glanced in to assuage her foolish paranoia and make sure that he was okay. Ever since that one time she had completely lost control of her emotions-- when she thought that the one cat she truly cared about was dead-- they seemed to be straining at their bonds more and more. Even when organizing patrols, reporting to Jaystar, training Poppypaw, she was having far more trouble maintaining her neutral persona than usual. Thankfully, few cats had noticed; or if they had, they had kept their observations to themself. But Perchfall was worried. What if she broke again one day? In front of the whole Clan? In front of Jaystar? Would they finally realize everything that was wrong with her-- her fears, her doubts, her dislike of the deputy position, her knowledge that she wasn't good enough? What if they realized who she actually was? What would happen? And would that finally be the straw that made Ashflight hate her?

The thoughts were far too much to bear. She had lost the ability to roll over and seek sleep once more. And even if she did... she knew she wouldn't like what she found. So, standing up cautiously, the gray and white she-cat stepped out of her small, utilitarian nest. She had to be quiet. She wouldn't want to wake anyone up. Adjusted to the darkness, her light blue eyes scanned the room, making sure that all was in order before she left. Tinypool slept in one of the nearer nests, breathing quietly, looking peaceful. Flywhisker snored nearby, next to Darkglow. And.... She hesitated. There was Ashflight's nest, which had been moved close to hers a few nights after the patrol where he offered his friendship. He seemed to be sleeping all right. His breathing wasn't too labored anymore, thank StarClan. Should she....? No. She didn't want to bother him with her foolish thoughts. He could use the rest anyways. So, slowly, carefully, Perchfall stepped over his nest as she moved towards the exit of the den, making sure not to brush so much as a whisker. Let him sleep a while longer.

Finally, she made her way outside. It was freezing. A new blanket of snowfall lay over camp, the last few inches of which were still slowly descending downwards. Everything seemed to glow in the light of the half-moon. Padding a few pawsteps away from the den, the deputy sat down, drawing her tail close to keep out the cold. Despite the chilly breeze, RiverClan looked beautiful. A soft haze of starlight fell over the ground, making it look almost closer to StarClan than the Moonstone. It was almost a shame that no one else could see this view. A noiseless sigh left her as she huddled against the wind, trying to gain some comfort from the stark weather. At least, if she was out here, then she wouldn't bother anyone.

Ashflight's wounds had healed up well, despite how much blood had been lost the actual marks were relatively minor, and would soon become merely a few more scars to disturb his long gray pelt.  However, he couldn't put out of his mind how scared Perchfall had been to see him that way, the unprecedented tears in her pretty blue eyes and her heart-wrenching yowls still disturbed his nights and left him with so many questions.  Did she think that I was going to die?  She knows I'm a capable warrior, I've taken down many foxes in my day...I got hurt to protect her, but I feel like I just ended up causing her more pain.  As he thought these ideas through he might've looked asleep, eyes closed and breathing content, but he was very much awake.  However, his mind was disrupted by the sound of paws on the mossy ground, and peeking one eye open Ashflight was surprised to see Perchfall leave the den.  Is she okay?  Worry pierced his stomach, and he only hesitated for a moment before getting up to follow her.

The cold breeze hit his face, making Ashflight shiver.  It was freezing outside, but he still emerged all the way from the warm den, gray fur messy from his tossing and turning.  It wasn't snowing though, and when Ashflight looked up he could see a blanket of stars covering the dark sky, so clear and bright.  Silverpelt, is what Ivystar had taught him it was called.  It was where his mother lived now.  Perchfall was looking at the stars too, and as he approached he made such his pawsteps crunched in the days-old snow so that she wouldn't be startled.  Smiling at her, Ashflight sat down close beside the deputy and purred, eyes still fixed on the sky above.  "I love nights like this, so quiet and peaceful.  When I was a kit I used to sneak out onto the roof of the barn my family lived in and try to find shapes in the stars.  I called that one the rabbit, see its ears?"  Pointing up with a paw at a cluster of stars, the tom let out a low laugh.  "I miss those days sometimes...but now that I'm here, I would never go back."

Frosty, unbroken peace swept over the dark night in the form of a chilling wind that seemed to go right past Perchfall's pelt to her bones. However, she was so used to the cold at this point that she barely cared. It was cold in her nest too. At least here, she could think through the intrusive memories and emotions without bothering any other cat... Or, so she thought. To her surprise, the crunch of soft pawsteps breaking through the thin layer of new snowfall onto the older ice made her ears flick backwards, and she glanced over her shoulder. Ashflight. He's awake. The familiar sight of his fluffy gray pelt, his lively green eyes focused on the sky, reflecting every star in them, made her feel simultaneously at ease and nervous. The very object of many of her nightmares, and also her deepest unspoken hopes.

"Sorry," she murmured as he arrived, casting her eyes down to her paws for a moment. "I didn't mean to wake you. I thought I left quietly." He didn't seem annoyed, however. Quite the opposite. As usual, he was warm and optimistic and alive and wonderful. And as usual, conversation came quite naturally to him. The easy flow of his friendly voice washed over her ears like a comforting blanket of moss over a newborn kit. And yet, something ugly still churned over and over in the pit of her stomach. Stars... the night sky reflecting off of his eyes. He was perfect. Too perfect. And then there was her.

The gray-and-white she-cat shifted slightly, looking over at him. She had to try to engage in his conversation, at least. She had to be better. Even if small talk was the furthest thing from her aching mind.

"You... lived in a barn? I assumed you were born in RiverClan. I know very little of your history, actually. Maybe you should tell me about it-- sometime." When I can listen. I want to give full attention to your story, and right now... I don't think I can. Realizing how strange she sounded, how strangled and subdued her normally flawlessly neutral voice was, she glanced away again. "I'm sorry, Ashflight. I was just... I couldn't sleep. I still can't. There are-- too many-- thoughts in my mind." That makes no sense, Perchfall. You make no sense. Why are you talking like this? Why can't you just listen to him? Can't you just put on a polite face and nod and listen and let him talk? Can't you just shut up? It's all in your head anyway. At the return of her inner monologue, she grimaced slightly. He... cared about her. He was her friend. He wouldn't be unkind. She wanted to say everything.... Instead, she found herself repeating one of the first things she'd said to him. A small echoed sentence. "I fear I am not much for conversation tonight."

Ashflight simply purred as Perchfall's gaze fell to her paws, replying nonchalantly; "Nah, I wasn't asleep anyway.  Too many thoughts in my head."  About you, was the truth, but he wasn't about to yell that to the world.  As much as he wondered and agonized over her actions and words he still wasn't sure, not truly.  Instead, he kept his simple, light tone as the deputy asked about his life at the barn.  He often forgot how much of his life was still a mystery to her, he felt as if they had known each other for ages.  "Of course!  I'm not trying to keep any secrets, especially from you.  Though...why not now?  No one's going to disturb us."  He had registered how tight her voice was, so unlike her usual calm tone.  Was she nervous, uncomfortable, sad?  He didn't want to see her cry again, though it was unlikely.  His head tilting in a concerned way, he shifted a bit closer to Perchfall so their flanks were touching, the warmth of both their forms combining into one.  He knew she wasn't the most affectionate cat, she could pull away and he wouldn't bat an eye, but for the moment he felt comforted by her presence.

As she explained, she echoed almost the same thing he had said earlier, about too many thoughts.  However...  "You don't need to apologize, I understand.  If you prefer silence right now, I can curb my tongue.  I don't need conversation Perchfall, it's enough for me to just be by your side."  He smiled at her, so gently and comfortingly you would think he was looking at a scared kitten.  Instead, he was sitting beside his best friend, his light in the darkness, and the cat he cared for most no matter what.  Unconsciously, he started to lean a little bit closer.  His eyes returned to the stars, catching sight of the constellations he used to create.  Those lovely, beautiful stars were shining in her eyes, even if her head was downcast.  They were always there, even if she didn't believe it.

This was not how Perchfall had pictured the night going. She had thought she might step out for a moment, bear the freezing chill, force her thoughts back into order, and then at least try to get some more sleep. Instead, she was hunched over in the snow, trying to calm her breathing as her best friend attempted to talk to her. Any other night, she would love to sit and speak with him all night-- even just sit and listen to him all night. But for some reason, all the mounting memories and emotions had nearly incapacitated her ability to function like a normal cat. One or two normal thoughts forced themselves through her mind-- It's all in your head. Calm down. You have no reason to be acting like this.-- but they didn't solve anything. How could I do this to him? Why am I like this? Couldn't it happen on some other night when everyone was peacefully asleep? Can't I just be normal for once?

Even as her heart began to pound faster in her chest, even as the uncontrollable thoughts continued to batter her brains from the inside, even as she closed off to him again despite everything he said-- Ashflight smiled at her. His green eyes carried every bit of light from the stars. He was the stars, gazing down at her with so much kindness that it almost made her breath stop. Despite all her flaws... he still liked her. For some unfathomable reason. And she would probably ruin it, given the chance. His physical closeness to her made her pelt warm against the biting chill of the leaf-bare wind. She needed to say something. Anything. She had to talk. But how could she force the words out of her mouth?

"Ashflight..." she whispered, managing to raise her eyes off the ground. Her voice was low and strained. "I apologize. I don't mean to-- to be like this. It's something that happens... sometimes...." It was difficult to speak through all the words that flooded through her head. She managed to cover up a wince that almost moved across her features. "My mind... locks up. I can't explain it." So why even try? Because... because... he deserves to know. I don't want him to be... I don't want him to feel... Sad. Perchfall squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to gather what little coherency she could. "I try to keep it in. But sometimes it happens. I can... barely... communicate. It's so stupid, I just--" Involuntarily, the images assaulted her again. Blood dripping from his pelt. Lifeless eyes. Dead. "I would never ignore you on purpose." She forced the words past her clenched teeth, and averted her pained blue eyes from him again. "If you talk to me in the morning, I'm sure-- it will all be over. I'm sorry you had to see... this. See me like this. You can pretend you didn't, if it makes you feel, any, better."

Part of her wanted to push him away, to make sure that he didn't have to witness her almost shaking under the force of her mind's inner workings. But the other part of her didn't want that. His pelt so close to hers... his warm breath on her face... his kind, undeserved smile. It didn't fix her problems. But it helped, a little bit. Assuaged some of the worse thoughts. Seeing him there, very much alive, not bleeding, not crushed, not dead, did put the nightmares to rest the moment they arose again. But the words were impossible to convey. She could barely speak, let alone communicate whatever complicated feelings were tearing rampant through her brain. So Perchfall continued sitting, controlling her breathing, staring at the snow beneath her paws as if she could will it and herself to disappear.