I rise and I fall [P]

***Bean*** · #1 August 8th, 2024, 06:04 PM

- Wolfpaw -
- He/Him - 6 Moons - ThunderClan Medicine Cat -
- A large dark brown tabby tom with green eyes and a missing hind leg -

[POWERPLAY PERMISSIONS GRANTED BY ILIRI TO HAVE SPRING PULL WOLF INTO A DREAM]

After a tiring day, Wolfpaw was looking forward to sleeping. Though, he would be sleeping in the medicine den. It was strange - the last time he slept there was when he was healing. But now, its his and Hollowpaw's den. After one final glance around, the medicine cat slipped into their nest and closed their eyes, letting the darkness take over.

The first ting that the six-moon cat saw when he awoke was the territory. He knew it was ThunderClan, but where exactly he had no clue. After Springlight was taken off by that owl, he had been too scared to even think about setting a paw outside of camp. Almost as if his thoughts came true, he heard a loud screech coming from above. Oh no. Without even looking, the tripod bolted, brown tabby fur scraping on thorns and trees. Dream or not, he did not want to know what came next. But he was too slow. The owl had caught up, and the medic felt the talons dig into his shoulders, as he was lifted up into the air.

The next thing he felt was being dropped down onto the surface again. "Ouch," he muttered, hopping up to his paws. Why hasn't he woken up yet? This was a dream- right? If he had been dropped from such a height, he should be-

Wait. That smell. Wolfpaw parted his jaws, taking in the scent. Without thinking, he started walking in the direction of the smell. He needed to be sure. Soon, the scent got stronger and stronger until a familiar pelt came into view. He was right.

"Springlight."

[ @iliri - Springlight ]

**iliri** · #2 Today, 02:19 PM

Springlight found herself in the heart of ThunderClan’s territory, the familiar scents of the forest enveloping her like a distant memory, though they offered no comfort now. The towering trees, the rustling leaves, and the soft undergrowth that had once been her solace now felt foreign, as if they belonged to a life she could no longer claim as her own. The vibrant greens and rich browns seemed muted, dulled by the haze of her own turmoil, a constant reminder of the failures she could not escape. Even in this dream, where the boundaries of reality blurred, the weight of her recent past clung to her, pressing down on her spirit with a force that left her breathless. The sharp image of the owl’s talons piercing her flesh haunted her every thought, a stark reminder of her helplessness in that critical moment. She had been stripped of her dignity, her strength, and now she was left to grapple with the overwhelming guilt that gnawed at her insides like a relentless predator. Lost in these thoughts, she hardly noticed the soft crunch of pawsteps approaching, each sound echoing in the unnatural stillness that surrounded her. When she finally looked up, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Wolfpaw emerging from the undergrowth. His presence, so vivid and alive, brought an immediate flood of emotions she couldn’t quite contain. The awkwardness in his gait was a painful reminder of the leg she had been forced to amputate, a decision that had saved his life but had also left an indelible mark on her soul. It was a constant source of guilt, one she carried with her every day, despite knowing the necessity of the action.

The memory of his pain, the fear in his eyes as she made the decision, haunted her even now. And seeing him here, in this dreamscape where reality and memory intertwined, only served to deepen the chasm of self-reproach that threatened to swallow her whole. She had tried so hard to be strong for him, to show him that life could go on, that he could still find happiness and purpose. But now, standing before him, she felt that strength crumble beneath the weight of her own perceived failures. “Wolfpaw…” The word slipped from her lips like a fragile whisper, barely audible over the rustling leaves, and yet it seemed to carry the full weight of her sorrow and regret. Her voice, usually steady and reassuring, was now laced with a tremor she couldn’t suppress, betraying the depth of her inner turmoil. She had always strived to be a beacon of strength for him, the guiding light in the darkness that had once threatened to engulf him after he struggled with handling only three legs. But now, all she could feel was the overwhelming guilt of her own inadequacy, a bitter taste that lingered on her tongue and made her stomach churn with unease. The fact that she hadn’t been strong enough to protect herself from the owl’s attack gnawed at her relentlessly, like a wound that refused to heal, and seeing him only served to remind her of the many ways in which she felt she had let him and the clan down. She was supposed to be a healer, and yet she had failed at the most critical moment, leaving her with a deep sense of shame that she couldn’t shake. Wolfpaw’s eyes, clear and vibrant even in this dream, met hers, and in them, she saw a reflection of the pain and confusion she carried. But there was also something more—something she couldn’t quite grasp, a flicker of understanding, perhaps, or even forgiveness. Yet, Springlight couldn’t bring herself to believe that she was worthy of either.

The guilt was too deep, the sense of failure too overwhelming. It wasn’t just his injury that haunted her now; it was the fear that she had let him down in ways that went far beyond the physical. How could she be the healer her clan needed, the cat she so desperately wanted to be, when she couldn’t even defend herself? The owl’s attack had shattered more than just her body; it had fractured her spirit, leaving her questioning her own worth and capabilities. The shame of that failure wrapped around her heart like a suffocating vine, each beat of guilt making it harder to breathe, harder to face the reality of what she had become. “I… I’m so sorry, Wolfpaw,” she murmured, her voice cracking under the weight of her confession. The words felt like broken glass in her throat, each syllable cutting her deeper as she forced them out. “I wasn’t strong enough…” The admission of her own weakness was like a heavy stone being placed on her chest, crushing her with its unbearable weight. She had always prided herself on being resilient, on being able to withstand whatever hardships came her way. But now, in the face of her own inadequacies, she felt that resilience crumble into dust, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in a way she had never felt before. The bitterness of failure coated her tongue, making it almost impossible to speak, but she knew she had to say it. She owed him that much, at least. Yet, the words offered no solace, no release from the crushing guilt that consumed her. Instead, they only served to deepen the wound, to remind her of all the ways she had fallen short. Wolfpaw had stood before her, alive and whole in this dream, yet all Springlight could see were the ways she had let him down. The memory of the owl’s attack loomed over her like a dark cloud, a constant reminder of her inability to protect herself or those she cared about.

@Bean ( wdym this is late no it ain't, also ignore how ungodly messy this is sodjekd )