what do you mean, you've lost your scarlet welly boots? [p]

[redshiftreign]

BUT YOU ARE SCREAMING FAR TOO LOUD TO HEAR ME SWEAR:

JUST BECAUSE I LEFT DOESN'T MEAN THAT I'M NOT STILL. . . THERE.

@Mica [eaglepaw]

the rain seemed to be staging an orchestra on the flat stones of the ridge, raindrop melodies mingling with the subtle ebb and flow of the brackish tides several fox lengths below. the sun had long since set, the sky cerulean and suffocating, blanketed with thick clouds as harsh as the sleuth's judgement. it's one of those dreams, he supposes, that suffocates. on the brighter side, this one did not begin awakening in the torrent, battered by river and water until air stole from his lungs and from him life was taken for the umpteenth time, it felt. this dream, however in poor weather, was a peaceful one. there was something darkly beautiful in the tempest of the sea. he wondered if the stars stared down on him with scorn, even yet.

still, there was a feeling at the back of his neck, like hackles raised, as he sat overlooking the mighty ocean. it was a poor imitation of lion's beach, with certain aspects missing entirely. he hated that he could tell that it was wrong, though he couldn't remember why or what specifically was missing.

holes in his memory. gaps in what was once true, now left in a muddy confusing mess.

he let out a sharp breath, claws digging into the stone painfully, pressing back into his flexed muscles. so far from home. a whole world away.

suddenly, his head swam with a familiar scent, a headache even in fiction deciding to rear up in surprise.

but this was just a dream. he assured himself he had not accidentally dragged his daughter into this mess. guilt washed over him, but he assured himself. a dream. a mere dream. he would not pass up a chance to sit with his daughter, though he wouldn't be surprised if this dream turned nightmare and she scorned him as much as he scorned himself.

so he stayed there, where he sat, watching the ocean with enough emotions to swell his chest, to break and destroy him.

[Mica]

Eaglepaw
RiverClan
she/her | 8 moons | 70/100
[Golden and white tuxedo tabby with green eyes]
Purrks: Dreamwalker, Herbal Knowledge T2
· · ────────────── · ·
[Rushwater - @redshiftreign ]
· · ────────────── · ·
The body next to Rushwater was its opposite in almost every way. Where he was lean and scarred, she was bulky and unmarred. Where he had short fur, she had long. Where his fur was dark and blue, hers was light and golden. Where he was soaked from the rain, she was completely dry. The raindrops fizzled into tiny, shining stars when they got too close to her, disappearing before they could drop on her pelt.

And yet, the two shared a similarity in how they carried themselves. And yet, the two were undeniably father and daughter.

Eaglepaw knew this was a dream. By now, she had figured out that Her Place was nothing more than a figment of her imagination that she managed to keep returning to night after night after night. Even though this dream was different, she was certain that it couldn't be anything other than her exhausted mind trying to reconcile everything that had been happening recently. Everything she had found.

Eaglepaw didn't look at Rushwater as they sat there, watching the ocean beat against the cliffs like a caged lion. Lionsbeach, indeed. She felt like she was floating in a calm body of water, all her senses dulled. Her mind worked very slowly, only registering one thing at a time and never for very long. Rushwater was here, and that was a fact. Her mind did not go beyond his existence, not even to start asking him questions. There was no need.

Eaglepaw looked.... worn. Old beyond her age. Her eyes were dull, and her form was thinner than it should have been. Her shoulders were slumped as she sat there, and it was very clear she had not been taking care of herself in the waking world. Why should she? Who had the time, now?

The longer the pair sat on the cliff, the more Eaglepaw's carefully constructed wall of ice unraveled. At first she thought that maybe some rain had gotten onto her face, but the warmth indicated that they were tears. Tears... why tears? Why was she crying? She hadn't cried in moons. She hadn't cried since the night Rushwater came back and held her in his arms and told her that he wouldn't leave her again. Yet here she was, sitting by that very same tom, slowly crumpling into nothing more than a small, helpless kit again.

Wordlessly, Eaglepaw leaned into Rushwater's side, silently sobbing into his fur. She was so, so tired. She wanted her dad back.