Post by [Acro.] on Dec 20, 2014 23:12:01 GMT -5
ooc:// I need an apprentice (or young warrior) who is prepared to get themselves into some deep stuff right about now. Nightpaw needs to unleash a lot of... stuff. This starts out in camp. Just one person, please! Nightpaw's bio *here* (he should be about 10 moons now)
Also, @lilykit, @fawnstar, I do not want you to post here with Sandpaw or Frostpaw--I just want you to be aware of this thread and what is happening with Nightpaw ;D
Also, @lilykit, @fawnstar, I do not want you to post here with Sandpaw or Frostpaw--I just want you to be aware of this thread and what is happening with Nightpaw ;D
It was dark.
He paced in the shadows, calling out with a voice that was silent, eyes that could not see.
He called for them.
Called for anybody.Called for her.'Please!' they called, desperate. 'Please, come back!His eyes, sharp in the darkness and outlined by the night, searched frantically, a fear shining behind them that could not be described.
Please find us!'
but in that night, just as in all of the others, there was no answer.
There was only a whisper.
A whisper in the darkness, speaking his name and the name of his siblings. 'Nightkit... Sandkit... Frostkit...' A voice so soft, so far away, it was less than a dream.
It was air.
It was breath.
It was nothing.
His chest grew tight and his lungs burned, unable to draw enough life into his body; only darkness came in. Darkness, and the cold.
He was so very cold.
Nightpaw's eyes flew open and he shot up in his nest, panting quietly. He searched the darkness, not realizing at first that he was back in reality--back in the Apprentices' Den, back where he could call out and someone might answer. His chest ached, and he scented the air for his siblings, tasting them nearby. Sleeping. Close.
Safe.
but his dream, as many other nights, stayed with him, and it gnawed at his stomach, making his pelt bristle and tail curl. The darkness of the den began to gain weight--it became heavy around him, and the air thinned. With wide eyes, the young tom got to his paws and all but flew out of the den, treading on silent paws around the countless other sleeping bodies until he was in the open air of TalonClan's camp, carried to the mouth of their looming cave. He breathed the air greedily, seeing far to the horizon where the gray light of early morning was just barely touching the sky. He stared toward the light... and then down the rocky cliff-face, his heart pounding. Without deciding to do so, Nightpaw felt himself flying from the cave, scrambling down the mountainside until his paws met forest, and then he kept going. He ran toward the rising sun, his eyes burning and his body cold from the night.
'Nightkit... Sandkit... Frostkit...'
That voice echoed through him more loudly with each lunging stride. He ran through TalonClan until he could run no more, and then he stopped.
And he screamed.
With no one around, Nightpaw called into the lightening sky, a pain coursing through him that he had been trying to contain all his life.
A loneliness.
A cold.
He screamed into the air, heaving on his next breath and collapsing into a heap on his stomach, wanting the earth to open and swallow him whole.
Wanting nothing more than to feel whole, at least once in his life.