when everything was falling apart___`open

[steps `]

valiantpaw
how long,
before i'm just a memory?

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Darkness enveloped the camp, coating the area in a cool, dreamy ink-like hue. The moon stood still, an ever-watching guard, and scattered down some weak rays of ethereal light to caress the emerald foliage that surrounded the clearing. Owls cooed quietly in the shelter of fragile leaves, their glittering golden eyes reflected in the moon’s calm gaze, before the quiet, almost silent whisper of their feathers waving in the frigid breeze of newleaf broke the silence of the camp, a careless touch of wing to branch sending a tumble of emerald pine needles falling to the moist, loamy earth in a hushed spatter of noise.

It was in this darkness, at the quiet sound of owls welcoming in the gradual shift to midnight, that one lean body within the apprentices’ den awoke. In the sticky, suffocating obsidian shadows of the enclosed space, filled with dreams of catching prey, crushes and playful youthfulness, bright bottle-green eyes flashed open, suddenly and silently, two vibrant orbs that speckled the otherwise monochromatic scene. The slender muscles of his body were tensed in fear of awakening the others, their presence just only starting to reveal themselves beneath his short, fluffy pallid ginger coat after moons of his constant training, and without a sound, he extracted himself from the heated mass of snoring bodies, and exited the shadowed den. The shadows of midnight bathed his tumultuous pelt, the pallid pumpkin hue making his form seem somewhat ghostly in the weak breath of the moon, as he padded quietly, as he had done so many times before, across the clearing and towards the exit.

He was sure he would see her this time, so sure. The moon smiled down at him, disapprovingly so, but he padded onwards, shielded by the shadows of towering trees and weathered rocks that knew all too well of his secrets. Valiantpaw felt the loamy, dew-soaked soil beneath his footpaws, and let a quiet sigh exit his muzzle, glittering emerald orbs darting from side to side to catch sight of the elusive shadow that had escaped him all this while. It was during this time, at the dead of night and in the gentle caress of darkness, that he felt a chilling calmness envelop him, a secret escape from everything, where he could pretend that she would be waiting for him, just at the edge of the clan territory, her body glimmering in the moon’s rays. She wasn’t dead, as others often tried so hard to convince him otherwise, but what point had they in trying to tear down this wall he had built, a fortress of hope and peace that kept him from letting a rush of all the fear and sadness he had held back for so long? He let a quiet laugh leap from his maws, not bitterly so, but to laugh at how they themselves would try to face such a miserable existence based on lies. He would find her, of course. She was waiting for him.

[misskuri]

arilpaw.

Arilpaw spent most nights in the warm, dark apprentice den wide awake and very alone. She had never slept well while the moon was high. Ironic, maybe, because she was always getting flak from her mentor for sleeping until midday whenever she could. Go to sleep earlier, they said. Don't put back the rest of the Clan because of your own laziness. She didn't care; she'd never been able to fall asleep when she wanted to. She hadn't gone on a single dawn patrol in moons, anyway, since she was so good at getting out of them. Sometimes it payed to spend your nights scheming rather than sleeping.

Even though the place where she had claimed her bed was far from the other apprentice's and her green eyes were turned away from their sleeping bodies, she did hear one of them get up to leave, but she couldn't tell who. Pausing her thought about what lie she was going to feed her mentor tomorrow to weasel out of training -- can't use a cough again, they'll send me to Fawndance saying I have greencough, and the stubborn old she-cat has already told Viperfang a thousand times that my paw is fine -- she flicked her ears, hearing her denmate push their way into the main camp. She stood up and delicately stretched her long tortoiseshell body, needing to be much less careful about it than Valiantpaw had. No one cared to sleep near her, anyway. She gave her chest a quick lick then wove her way through the den and out into the cool, heavy night.

It was then that she caught sight of Valiantpaw, making his way to the camp entrance. She sniffed. She'd heard about his oh-so-troubled past. She'd mostly left him alone because of it -- she may be a tease, but she knew what it meant to loose a sibling. Still, she could not have had any idea how his ghosts still haunted his heart; for all intents and purposes, this just looked like a fellow apprentice going out for some fresh air. So Arilpaw, in her poisonous insomniac's boredom, decided it'd be harmless to follow him. So she kept a few steps behind him the whole way he padded, hardly able to see his pale orange pelt among the ferns, thinking how annoying it was that he kept darting this way and that, as if he, too, were chasing something he could just barely see.

Finally he came to a stop. Arilpaw let out a long breath and rolled her eyes exasperatedly, not caring to be quiet anymore. She strolled up behind him, teasingly casual. "A little late for a good little apprentice like you to be leaving camp, don't you think?" she asked, a smirk playing her muzzle.

[steps `]

valiantpaw
how long,
before i'm just a memory?

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It was strange how every shadow seemed familiar, the silhouettes of branches resembling too eerily well the limbs of other cats, and taunted him with makeshift muzzles and waving paws. The wind whispered in his pointed ears as he trudged onwards, his path lit carelessly by the gentle rays of moonlight that poked through the dense emerald foliage. He felt no wear upon his muscles, the need for sleep muted by the urgency of the situation, and his mind darted and whirred, recalling the journey he took many nights before. The young tom’s bright teal eyes were cast solemnly forwards, the soft glitter being the only thing that betrayed the resolute hope that lay within his heart.

Eventually, the apprentice came to a break in the forest, stopping at the edge of a small clearing lit in the brightness of the full moon. His pallid ginger fur glowed softly, pale and unkempt, and his muscles, growing sinews that told stories of the warrior he would become, were no longer bunched, his breath just slightly heavier with the toll of the long journey. It was here that Valiantpaw had come many nights before to sit in waiting, till the birds would start to whisper a warning of the awakening sun and he would be forced to return swiftly, to fake a peaceful slumber as the other apprentices had. Ever the solemn and level-headed cat, it was here that he would let his mind wander, to imagine her familiar form materialize from the silhouettes of midnight, the one body that remained the link of himself to his lost kin, and to see her bound up to him, the complete opposite of his otherwise calm and sombre personality. So, getting ready for the long, peaceful wait ahead, the young ginger tabby sat himself down, alert sea-green eyes gazing carefully ahead.

It had been less than a minute that he had been waiting when he heard the harsh voice of another break the serene atmosphere, like the callous caw of a crow after a death, waiting to feast upon the bones and caring nought for the severity of the situation. He turned swiftly, a menacing snarl lacing his features. It was strangely out of character to see the tom like this, the ever calm and composed Valiantpaw, known for his rare temper and always the one to keep situations between others from going out of hand. His sharp teal orbs fell upon the fluffy she-cat, the tumultuous patterns of her fur lit by the breath of the moon, and he identified her as the haughty Arilpaw, one whose name was often thrown around in the conversations of other apprentices. He had spoken few words to the young she-cat and knew nothing about her other than what he’d heard and although he was the last to judge from spiteful words of her ‘victims’, this seemed to change his view of her completely.

Glaring daggers at the she-cat, the pale ginger-furred tom narrowed his teal eyes, before taking a breath and regaining his composure. If his sister came and saw this, she would be scared away and may never return, and he would have lost his last chance to see her, he thought, and a look of fear flashed, just for less than a second, across his eyes, before he inhaled deeply, blinking and returning to reality. ”Is it any of your business what I choose to do with my time?” The tom replied coolly, his gaze cold and frigid against the she-cat’s own hazel eyes, ”I don’t bother with your tactics to extend your apprenticeship; why are you preoccupying yourself with my matters?”He needed to get rid of this she-cat, she might scare her away. And if he lost the one remaining link to his kin because of the lax apprentice who stood before him, she would regret ever having been awake this night.