Living On Stolen Time[solo]

After his StarClan dream and the fateful accident with Crowspirit, Quillpaw had been confined to camp, which left him with plenty of time to mull over what had happened. Swiftheart often tried to speak to him, but he always managed to find an excuse as to why they couldn't talk, and in those moments where he found none, he would pretend to sleep. He could sense Swiftheart's disappointment each time, along with her rising suspicion of why he was always unavailable. Truth to be told, he was terrified. He had seen the moment of pure rage in the she-cat's voice, the murderous glint in her eyes and the furious stiffness to her movements. He knew that if he ever let the truth out... she would kill him. Because at the end of the day, it was her biological child that he had killed, and he was just, well, a guest in her empty family. He didn't belong here... which sealed his choice.

He couldn't stay here. These past few moons that he had remained in ShadowClan was an endless cycle of fear. Fear that he may wake one day to claws at his throat, or be called upon one evening to admit to fault. The nightmares that plagued his mind followed him into reality, the lines between the two blurring until everything was one and the same. He was in a constant state of half-awareness, feverish dreams dancing before his eyes with every step. He was trapped, fighting for air and a moment of rest. Shrewpaw had told him of love, but how fickle that love could be. He recalled Copper's tales, of love that had not been returned or never understood. No matter what had happened, his wrongdoings alone will stain his paws. He was bound to his mistakes for all of eternity, and he had commited one of the worse mistakes.

He had to run. He had to try and leave behind his mistakes. And yet, fear kept him where he was. I'll leave once I've healed. I'll leave once I've learned all the proper skills. Again and again, he chanted his endless list of excuses, stealing time from where there was none. Time that Crowspirit should have had. If he had not fought back, if he had not blinded her, she would still be alive, and he would be dead.

He wasn't too worried about how this all would end. After witnessing two deaths, it almost seemed like the desirable option. The ultimate rest, locked away and seperated by a chain of risks. Of pain. And he was terrified of pain. And so, he remained on the other side, watching death stroll by time and time again with wishfull eyes and longing cries. Copper, are you waiting for me? Will you welcome me with open arms?

Crowspirit, I'm sorry, I never meant to kill you. I should have let you kill me; it was what both of us would have wanted. Swiftheart, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't be the replacement you wanted me to be. Pineblossom, I'm sorry, I couldn't heal your heartbreak.

Copper, I'm sorry, please take me back. I would rather take your wrongful love than death at my throat.