Sharp and Steady into the Empty Parts of Me [closed]

The late evening sky was already laden with the lingering threat of heat, an uncharacteristic stillness that intermingled with the crushing weight of the unpleasantly warm humidity- the prickling presence of electricity providing the mouth-curling inkling of the early Newleaf storm that was inevitably gathering somewhere just beyond the Highstones, eagerly awaiting its chance to unleash a torrential downpour on the already overflowing territories. Somewhere, countless leagues away, the dark smear across the horizon was briefly illuminated by a dazzling flash of lightning; the resounding crack of thunder a faint shudder across the late evening sky.

The lush foliage that concealed the vulnerable contents of the island was illuminated in the stark light of the moon, the faint whispers of intimate conversations turned pallid and quickly suffocated by the soft whisper of a breeze that slowly crept across the clearing. Most had settled down for the evening several hours ago - wise in their decision to get a full night's sleep in preparation of a full day's worth of duties - and were already lost to the world in their deep dreaming, blissfully unaware of the brewing storm that crept ever closer.

Much to the dismay of the unfortunate soul who had been assigned guard duty for the evening, Nettlesplash had remained sprawled out in the clearing instead of relocating to his den at the appropriate hour, his mind moving much too quickly to try and feign sleep. These days he had found himself more and more unsettled, as though he was attempting to walk atop a precariously thin shelf of ice. Not too long ago he would've been able to understand Lichenstar's thought process better than his own, a byproduct of a youth spent practically joined at the hip in their respective attempts to constantly one-up each other, but now? Now, he felt like a voyeur intruding on the sanctity of some unknowable, unreachable stranger.

There was no worse feeling than being a stranger in your own home.

Nettlesplash's large frame effectively sealed Lichenstar's den in shadows, his bulky frame easily occupying the entire width of the entrance as he promptly entered without any semblance of respect for his Leader. Sharply prodding the tortoiseshell between the ribs, the red-furred tom's low voice was sharpened with the scathing undercurrent of accusation he spoke, "You've been avoiding me."

Lichenstar lay tightly curled in her nest, a little snail hiding her eyes from the world beneath her calico shell. Her face covered by her webbed pawpads. Her face twitched as she slept, perhaps even in dreamland did she hide her feelings, lest those who gazed upon her take advantage of her vulnerability. In her sleep she returned to that terrible Leafbare night, the night when both the moon and forest were soaked in blood. Flashing claws and teeth, the stench of blood and death. The still forms of friends, rivals, family, enemies, all laid scattered across the sacred ground of Fourtrees. Clean calico paws gingerly stepped around the blood-soaked pelts, with the young she-cat's hackles raised at the horror of it all. 'Why isn't anyone else up? I can't be... I can't be the only one left, can I?' There had to be someone, anyone. She couldn't be the only one left.

A familiar pelt met her eyes, someone so full of spite and flame that now he seemed unnaturally small. All she could hear was her own heart's frantic beating. "Come on, get up!" She shoved a limp Nettlesplash with her paw, but instead of turning and snapping at her for disturbing him, his head simply flopped against the ground without so much as an irritated grumble. No, no, no! This wasn't happening. She pushed him again, practically shaking him with all her might, but it wasn't enough to wake the dead. A dark shadow loomed over her, and within the grip of fangs and otherworldly claws, she too was disposed of.


Lichenstar's whole body jolted at the sudden touch and she awoke to her den once more. She spun to face the thing that blocked out the moon's light, eyes wide and fur rising. The words took a few moments to register past her racing heart. Her dream was forgotten, yet the feeling of dread remained. "Great stars," she huffed, grooming her chest fur to calm herself down. What was he- oh. Reality returned without mercy. She and Nettlesplash had been... at odds, so to speak, with her most recent decisions as leader. They rarely agreed on much, but this was far more serious than the which-place-has-the-best-fish argument.

"I know you're angry with me. And no I have not." That was a lie. She started cleaning her face with her paws, trying to buy her still sleep-addled brain time to think of something to say. With everything that came to mind she could already hear his scathing reply. They'd certainly known each other for far too long to say something half-tailed. "Do you want to put your paws into every matter, Nettlesplash?"

Cloying darkness welled up from within the protective embrace of the ancient willow roots, a stifling cloak of impenetrability that easily devoured any stubborn tendrils of pallid moonlight that softly framed the ragged edges of Nettlesplash. It took several long moments for his gaze to adjust to the drastic difference in available natural light, pupils rapidly shrinking and expanding in a futile attempt to hurry along the process, leaving him with nothing but his ears to piece together the sudden reaction on behalf of Lichenstar. Her reactions, both voluntary and involuntary, were more familiar to him than his own innate functions- he didn't need his eyes to sense her sudden fright and ensuing reluctance. Although the unbearable heat of his righteous fury cooled softly at the thought of Lichenstar left to her lonesome solitude during the long hours of the night, it was nearly impossible to curb the urge to roll his eyes at her response.

"Oh really?" Nettlesplash retorted, raspy voice strengthened by the sheer conviction of his disbelief, "Perhaps I've been made unaware of all of your time spent devoted to strategizing with Wolfstorm. Tell me, is he an attentive listener or does he spend the entire meeting looking for a bush to jump into with his mate?"

Shouldering his way deeper into the narrow confines of the secluded den, Nettlesplash's strength became all the more evident as he roughly nudged Lichenstar over into the furthest corner of her own nest- eyeing the painfully barren and tasteless expanse of his companion's den as he promptly settled down into admittedly unpleasantly cramped space right beside her. Back whenever they had shared a den, it had never looked so pitiful and unlivable, as they had all but made contests of who could find the most elaborate and useless decoration for their cramped little space. Strange bird feathers, unique stones, remnants of shells that had somehow been washed ashore by the currents. It hadn't been much, but it was certainly better than this. Heavy weight dropping of his chin suddenly dropping against the delicate curve between Lichenstar's ribs and haunches, the red-furred tom made a spectacle of shifting and jostling his companion in a pointless attempt to get comfortable in the bleak little den.

"Yes, my paws deserve to be put into every matter." Nettlesplash insisted, childish in his usual refusal to cede ground, "Especially if my paws are the sole determining factor in preventing you from running into the thorns with a Leader who has the emotional intelligence of a kit who was held under water for too long."