coming apart at the seams [c]

Nightowl had spent most days since the wolf attack in the safety of his own den. It turned out he was the same coward he'd been in his youth; not much had changed. He could change his title, find something he felt the slightest more confident doing, but he couldn't change who he was. Nightmares plagued him when the sun rose each morning and he inevitably dozed off. The snarling wolves, their bone-chilling howls, the metallic scent of blood sharp and heavy in the air, the screams of his fellow cat filling the forest. Fourtrees, which had always been a pillar of peace - during his lifetime, at least - forever scarred and bloodstained. He couldn't shake it.

Most of all, he couldn't shake the way he'd frozen still, his paws seemingly weighed down by two badgers apiece. He wasn't a warrior, so he wasn't expected to fight or defend his Clan... but that didn't mean he was allowed to sit by the sidelines like that. Hemlockfox had joined the fray. Others had rushed to do what they could and patch their Clanmates up with what little supplies they could find. He'd let his leader die. Juniperhunt, too, not that there was much he could've done. He'd let multiple cats sustain horrible injuries. Fernpaw was still recovering. Smokeytimber had a horrific scar along the length of his body. He was a failure, through and through. Being a medicine cat had been his last hope, and he couldn't even do that right. Even before the wolf attack, he'd let Wolfpaw's illness fester, stood by as he hurt cats.

His chest was heaving. He didn't know when his breath had become so labored. The small black tom clenched his jaw and pushed himself to his feet. He had to get out of here - he was going to suffocate. It was terrifying out there, but his thoughts were worse. He needed air.

Nightowl burst out of the medicine den, stumbling as he did. When the crisp, fresh air hit him, he nearly dropped to the ground. Still, he managed to keep steady. Panting, he leaned his head against the wall for some semblance of strength. Stars, nobody need me right now. Nobody come by. This was pathetic. He hoped nobody was looking. If Silverhawk caught a glimpse of him like this, he'd probably burst into laughter. But he could hear pawsteps approaching. "What is it?" He called out, doing his best to smooth his pelt.