look who’s inside again [ p | s ]

[iliri]

Spring
long-furred, scarred, oriental-shaped, gray-and-orange calico molly with blue eyes; torn right ear
purrks: herbal knowledge - tier 2 | the collector | mind reader | dreamwalker
she/her | … | 25 moons

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Smallsky
long-furred, chocolate torbie with low white; blue eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | dark forest resident | 30 moons [at death]

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The dream began as a disorienting swirl of shadows, shapes twisting and fading in her vision, being near impossible to grasp. Spring’s paws touched solid ground, yet the hellish world around her seemed to ripple and shift, as if she were walking on a rather dangerously thin layer of ice that threatened to break with every step. The air was thick and viscous, clinging to her fur and seeping into her lungs. Cold. Damp. The scent of decay and damp earth filled her nose, prickling something primal inside her, a futile warning to turn back—if only there was somewhere safe to go. The trees around her loomed tall, black as ink and bare of leaves, their branches curling in jagged, unnatural angles like the talons of some enormous beast. Shadows skittered and darted in the corners of her vision, forms just beyond recognition, yet their presence was palpable, closing in on her from all sides. Her long fur bristled, and she forced herself to move, each pawstep sinking slightly into the ground as though the soil was alive, and wished to swallow her whole. She tried to shake off the feeling and tried to breathe, but the air was heavy, pressing against her chest, greedily squeezing her lungs until every breath felt like a struggle. Spring’s heart hammered against her ribcage as she continued forward, every instinct screaming at her to wake up, though there was no clear way out.

The landscape twisted with each step, the trees seeming to lean closer, their twisted limbs stretching out as if they were reaching for her, clawing at her with invisible fingers. A faint, chilling whisper echoed through the darkness, threading through her consciousness, yet just quiet enough to evade recognition. It was as if the shadows themselves were murmuring, feeding on the fear radiating off her. The path ahead seemed endless, a narrow, winding trail that faded into blackness. Every few paces, she stumbled, her white paws catching on unseen roots that seemed to rise out of the earth, grasping tenderly at her legs like they had a will of their own. Her fur prickled, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as she forced herself forward, her eyes darting to every flicker of movement in the shadows. She had to keep going—she didn’t know why, but some deep, primal part of her told her she couldn’t stop, not here, not in this place. As Spring pressed forward, a faint sound drifted through the oppressive silence—a slow, taunting, deranged laugh that slithered into her ears and sank deep into her mind. It sounded like broken glass shaken inside a metal tube. Her blood ran cold as the laughter grew louder, echoing through the twisted trees, mocking her with every step. She tried to ignore it and push forward, but each step felt heavier, as if the ground beneath her was growing thicker, trying to pull her down, forcing her to remain in this nightmare realm.

Then, just ahead, a figure emerged from the darkness. Spring froze, her pulse quickening, a chill creeping down her spine as her eyes adjusted to the sight. The shape ahead was familiar yet twisted, a form that seemed to waver and distort as if it were a mirage in the suffocating dark. The figure standing before her was a twisted echo of her mother, yet wrong in every possible way. Smallsky’s long fur seemed to ripple and writhe, as if alive, the chocolate and orange striped hues dulled to lifeless shades, streaked with inky black shadows that slithered and shifted like restless creatures crawling through her pelt. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, burning with a cold, eerie light that cut through the shadows with an unnatural intensity, reflecting an emptiness more chilling than any threat. They gleamed in the darkness, fixed on Spring with an predatory unblinking stare that sent a prickling sensation crawling under her fur. Smallsky’s body moved with an unsettling grace, her limbs bending and twisting as she took a step forward, her head tilting at an odd angle that made her look like a grotesque puppet on invisible strings. There was a raggedness to her appearance, as though her form was deteriorating from the inside, patches of her once-thick fur thinning to reveal shadowy, indistinct shapes beneath, as if the darkness itself was eating away at her after her death.

Her whiskers were crooked and broken in places, her mouth twisted into a smile too wide, her teeth gleaming unnaturally sharp in the darkness. It was a smile without warmth, a smile that promised nothing but cruelty. Smallsky’s voice, when it finally came, was a low, rasping whisper, laced with an unsettling glee that slithered into Spring’s ears like poison. It was as if her words were seeping from the shadows themselves, merging with the darkness to taunt her. "Well, well… look who finally found her way home," Smallsky purred, her voice smooth but dripping with venom. Her words echoed eerily through the dead forest, each syllable a taunt. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she circled Spring, inspecting her as though she were some pathetic creature, too weak to stand on its own. "My little disappointment, wandering back to her roots. Tell me, Springlight, did you get lost again? Or is it that you’re finally realizing what you are?" Spring's heart lurched at the sound of her old name. The way Smallsky hissed Springlight felt like a dagger sliding between her ribs, twisting deep into a wound that had never fully healed. She flinched, the weight of that name cutting through her, as memories she’d buried and tried to forget clawed their way to the surface. She wasn’t Springlight anymore; she hadn’t been for what felt like an eternity.

She’d forcefully left that part of herself behind, broken and discarded, just like the family who’d abandoned her moons ago. But Smallsky knew precisely where to dig to make that old hurt throb with new, raw pain. Her mother’s taunting eyes sparkled with a cruel satisfaction at the reaction she received, lips pulling back into a sneer. Spring’s legs trembled, every instinct telling her to flee, but the ground beneath her paws seemed to cling to her, rooting her in place as though the earth itself wanted to trap her in this nightmare. The twisted form of Smallsky continued to circle her, her eyes narrowed with an intensity that made Spring feel stripped bare, as if her mother could see right through her carefully constructed walls and into every hidden flaw, every buried fear. Spring wanted to turn away, to close her eyes, but something held her gaze, kept her staring into those hollow, gleaming eyes that bore into her with an unnatural sharpness. Her heart pounded, her paws itching once more to turn and flee, but the ground beneath her held her fast, as though it were alive, binding her in place. “Oh, did that sting?” Smallsky purred, her voice soft but venomous, a saccharine mockery dripping from every word. Her eyes shone with merciless delight, watching her daughter unravel. “It must hurt, bringing back all those precious memories, all that hope you once had serving as a medicine cat.”

She took a slow, deliberate step closer, savoring each second of Spring’s helplessness. “Oh, but you’re not her anymore, are you? Not a light. Just a shadow of what you once were… a worthless, broken shadow.” The words cut through Spring’s mind, every syllable digging deeper than claws ever could. Smallsky's sneering face loomed closer, that cold, twisted smile just inches away, but Spring forced herself to stand taller. Her claws dug into the damp earth beneath her, grounding her in whatever sliver of reality she could hold onto. This is just a dream. It wasn't real. She repeated this over and over like a mantra as her heart pounded aggressively against her ribcage. The twisted form of Smallsky continued to stalk around her like a spectral predator circling its prey, her gaze as sharp as claws and twice as cutting. There was a dark glee in her mother’s face, an expression that twisted the memory of what she once was into something alien and nightmarish. Every flicker of that sickening smile felt like a harsh blade slicing through Spring’s resolve. Smallsky leaned in closer, her distorted form casting jagged shadows over Spring, and her voice dropped to a poisonous whisper, laced with mockery and contempt. “Oh, look at you,” Smallsky sneered, her voice dripping with venomous amusement. “Just as foolish and self-absorbed as you’ve always been. Wandering the world as if you’re some kind of hero, some noble cat seeking redemption, when all you are is a coward running from your mistakes.”

Her eyes narrowed, glinting with a predatory hunger. [B]“You think you’re special, don’t you? You think all that wandering made you wise. But you’re still the same naive, selfish little fool who abandoned her clan and her duty.”/B] Spring's chest tightened, each word slicing into her like a claw. She forced herself to stand tall, to appear unmoved, but her fur was bristling with barely concealed fear and anger, emotions she couldn’t control, not here, not in front of her mother’s ghost. She tried to look away, to remind herself that this was just a dream, that this was nothing but her mind playing tricks on her. But Smallsky's eyes—those cold, damning empty pits of light—held and trapped her, making her feel like a kit cowering before her mother’s wrath. “And now,” Smallsky continued, her grin widening with cruel satisfaction, “you think you’ll start a new life, that your sins can be erased. But they’ll follow you, Spring. Every single mistake you’ve made, every lie, every betrayal—it’s all etched into you, deep enough that even those kits of yours will carry it. They’ll bear the weight of your shame, and they’ll be as cursed as their mother.” The dilute calico’s heart dropped, her pulse pounding in her ears as the full weight of Smallsky’s words hit her. Her kits. She hadn’t let herself think too much about them, about the future they would inherit. She’d tried to stay focused on survival, on piecing herself together enough to face each day.

But Smallsky’s taunts sank deep into her mind, tearing down every fragile defense she’d managed to build. The shame, the regrets, the guilt she’d tried to bury—they all rose up now, suffocating her like the thick, oppressive air of this nightmare. “I—” She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice faltered, her words evaporating in the face of her mother’s twisted, gleeful smile. Smallsky’s gaze hardened, her eyes gleaming with a malicious satisfaction. “You think you’re protecting them by running, by hiding from what you are, but all you’re doing is dooming them to the same pain, the same miserable path you took. They’ll see you for what you truly are, Spring—a weak, selfish fool who couldn’t even hold onto her own damn name.” She spat the last word with such venom that Spring flinched, her legs trembling under her. Smallsky’s sneer deepened, her expression a twisted mask of delight and scorn. “And when they look at you, they’ll see a mother who ran from everything she was, a shadow pretending to be someone better and new. But a shadow is all you are, and a shadow is all they’ll know. They’ll learn that their mother was nothing but a self-absorbed coward. And one day, they’ll resent you for it. They’ll hate you for every choice you made to run, to hide, to abandon who you once were. They’ll hate you for making their lives a living hell.”

Spring’s throat constricted, her claws digging into the soft, yielding ground, but it offered no comfort. She tried to focus and breathe, to remind herself that Smallsky wasn’t real, that this was just a nightmare conjured from her darkest fears. But her mother’s words bit deep, struck every raw nerve she’d tried so desperately to shield. Her kits would carry the burden of her choices and her mistakes. She could already feel the guilt pressing down on her, a heavy weight that settled in her bones, an ache that no amount of denial could soothe. Smallsky leaned in close, her breath cold as ice against Spring’s ear. “They’ll inherit your shame, Spring. They’ll carry every ounce of it, every mistake, and every failure. They’ll know the truth about their mother, and you can’t hide it from them. You can’t hide from what you are.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, low and menacing. “A self-absorbed fool, and a coward.” Spring squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up and escape this torment. But Smallsky’s voice cut through her thoughts, relentless, taunting, and inescapable. The cruel words twisted around her, binding her tighter, feeding off her fear, her regret, and her deepest insecurities. There was no escape, no refuge from the relentless onslaught of her mother’s accusations, each word a reminder of the life she’d unintentionally left behind, of the weight she’d carried all this time.

“Open your eyes, Spring,” Smallsky murmured, her voice dripping with mockery. “Face what you are. Look at the disgrace you’ve become. Your kits will see it soon enough, and there won’t be anywhere left for you to hide.” Her mother’s words slipped into her mind like venom, paralyzing her in place. Spring's heart thundered in her chest, her pulse a relentless, erratic beat that resonated through the dark landscape. The shadows around her seemed to tighten and close in, whispering their approval at Smallsky’s every word. She tried to push back, to summon some fragment of strength, but every cruel word dug deeper, filling her with a despair she could barely contain. The despair slowly churned itself into a downward spiral, her claws digging deep into the dead earth below, the soil giving way beneath her trembling paws. The rage grew, simmering like a fire she couldn’t smother, each memory of her mother's scornful words fueling it further. Spring felt her hackles rise as the bitter taste of resentment clawed its way up her throat. She wanted to scream, to silence the voice that echoed within her mind, the voice that had haunted her since she was young, stripping away her confidence piece by piece. The calico’s claws dug deeper into the ground, the dead earth crumbling under her as if echoing her own frailty. The shadows around her seemed to pulse with a dark energy, enclosing her in their suffocating embrace.

Her mother’s voice echoed within her, taunting, insistent, a twisted lullaby that had followed her for as long as she could remember. She clenched her teeth, the bitterness rising, the words filling her with an anger so potent it almost frightened her. “You’re not real,” she finally growled, her voice trembling yet defiant, resonating with every shard of courage she could gather. Her heart hammered aggressively with rage, her hackles prickling as the words spilled out. “You don’t exist! I’ve left you behind—I’m not that helpless kit anymore that you abandoned for ShadowClan!” The words felt like raw, unfiltered claws pressing against her throat, but once they started, she couldn’t hold them back. “You’re nothing to me, Smallsky!” she yelled, her voice shaking as it broke through the silence, cutting through the oppressive weight that had settled over her. Smallsky’s eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, her expression twisting into something monstrous, filled with both fury and malice. Her dark form loomed, yet sharper than the clipped edges of a blade. "Not real?" she hissed, the words dripping with venomous rage. "I am as real as the blood in your veins, Spring. I am a part of you, whether you like it or not." Her voice was low, a deadly whisper, laced with a menace that made Spring’s blood run cold.

"You can’t escape me. You can’t ignore me. I’m your real mother unlike that good for nothing waste of vermin you called a parent. I’m in every choice you make, every mistake you stumble upon. You carry me, Spring—whether you like it or not." Spring’s resolve wavered, her chest heaving as her mother’s words cut deeper, dredging up memories she had buried for moons. A cold, sickening realization began to seep into her mind, clawing at her self-assurance like thorns scraping her skin. Smallsky stepped closer, her form swelling in the shadows, dark eyes burning with a twisted fury. “You think you’re so brave and strong?” she snarled, her voice rising to a venomous crescendo. “You lie to yourself, Spring. You act like you’ve moved on, but you’re just as weak and cowardly as ever. You never even tried to return to ThunderClan—not once, not even after you healed. You knew you couldn’t face them; couldn’t bear to see what they’d think of you after you went out of your way to get yourself pregnant with an outsider's kits because of your stupidity.” Smallsky’s words struck like a physical blow, knocking the breath from Spring’s lungs. The shadows seemed to pulse in rhythm with her mother’s every accusation, amplifying the sharp, biting truth in her words. Spring felt her strength begin to buckle, her heart twisting painfully at the image her mother painted—a coward, a failure who had abandoned her clan and her pride in one reckless, foolish act.

Her claws scraped against the ground, leaving furrows in the dirt as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. She wanted to scream, to deny every accusation hurled at her, but the darkness around her closed in like a vice, stealing the air from her lungs, trapping her voice within her throat. The pain was overwhelming, a torrent of guilt, shame, and rage flooding her senses, each memory of failure bubbling up to the surface, drowning the calico in despair. Smallsky’s form loomed even closer, her eyes gleaming with an unnatural light that reflected Spring’s deepest fears. Her mother’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile, reveling in her daughter’s torment. “Face it, Spring,” she hissed, her voice laced with triumph. “You can try to run, to play the part of a mother that you'll never be, but you’ll never be able to escape what you truly are. You’ll always be that scared little kit, hiding behind someone else, relying on others to fix your mistakes. You think those kits of yours won’t see it? That they won’t look at you and see nothing but a broken, pathetic shell of a cat once they’re born?” As Smallsky’s words sliced through her mind, Spring felt her strength crumbling under the weight of the accusations. Her paws trembled, each word a crushing blow that eroded her remaining defenses, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. The shadows around her seemed to pulsate, tightening like a trap, feeding off her despair and amplifying it until it felt as if she were drowning in darkness.

Her vision blurred, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to hold on to some shred of defiance, but her mother’s relentless sneer shattered her attempts. The image of her kits looking at her with the same contempt burned into her mind, twisting her stomach with a sickening dread. “You’re pathetic,” Smallsky snarled, her voice cold and unyielding as she loomed closer, her dark form blotting out any sliver of light that remained. “Just look at you—a coward, a waste, nothing but a shadow of the cat you could have been.” Her words were like claws raking down Spring’s very soul, peeling back her self-worth layer by layer. Spring’s legs buckled, her body trembling as she sank to the ground, her breath coming in shallow, shuddering pants. Her mother’s figure swelled, eclipsing her entirely, eyes gleaming with malicious delight as she watched her daughter’s spirit falter. “You’re nothing,” Smallsky hissed, leaning in close, her hot breath prickling against Spring’s fur. “You’re less than nothing. You can run to the ends of the forest, hide in the shadows of every clan, but it won’t change what you are—a damned disgrace.” A low, menacing growl rumbled from Smallsky’s throat, and before Spring could react, she felt a sharp, brutal blow to her side. Pain exploded in her ribs as her mother’s claws raked through her fur, tearing into her flesh with a ferocity that left her gasping for air as it left her lungs.

Spring staggered back, her vision swimming as she struggled to stay on her paws. Her mother’s form loomed over her, a twisted smile curling her lips as she advanced, unsheathing her claws with lethal intent. Spring’s own claws scraped against the ground in a futile attempt to steady herself, but the weight of Smallsky’s presence bore down on her, suffocating her and draining the last of her strength. “You thought you could escape me?” Smallsky’s voice was a venomous whisper, her tone dripping with mockery as she circled her fallen daughter. “You thought you could leave your past behind, build a new life, and be a mother? Pathetic. You’re too weak, Spring—too broken to protect yourself, let alone your kits.” Her words were a cruel taunt, each syllable laced with disdain as her claws shot forward, slicing through the air with a lethal precision that left Spring no time to react. Pain exploded in her shoulder as the claws tore through flesh and fur, raking down her side with brutal force. Spring’s strangled gasp echoed in the oppressive silence, her body jolting back as the agony seared through her like fire. She staggered, vision blurring as her blood soaked into the dead earth below, staining it a dark, ominous red. Her mind reeled, struggling to process the raw, blistering pain that now pulsed with each heartbeat, but Smallsky’s form loomed ever closer; relentless and unyielding. In a sudden, brutal movement, Smallsky lunged forward, slamming her paw against Spring’s scarred throat with a force that sent her sprawling onto the ground.

Spring’s breath hitched, her vision swimming as she felt her mother’s claws dig into her neck, pressing into the old, barely-healed scars that marked her flesh. The sharp, searing pain was unbearable, as if her very skin was being torn open anew. She could feel the hot, sticky warmth of blood trickling down her throat, each drop a horrible reminder of her helplessness, of her mother’s ruthless power. “Pathetic,” Smallsky hissed once again, her voice a low, venomous growl as she leaned closer, her hot breath fanning across Spring’s fur. “You think you’ve left me behind? That you’re free of me?” She laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the darkness, filling Spring’s ears and drowning out her own labored breathing. “You can run to the ends of this cursed forest, but you’ll never escape what you are, Spring. I am in your blood, in every shadow you cast, in every weakness you can’t hide in everyone’s faces.” Smallsky’s claws pressed deeper, slicing into the fragile skin of Spring’s throat, and the dilute calico felt a sickening wave of nausea twist through her as waves of blood pooled beneath her fur. Her vision dimmed, the edges blurring and darkening as her mother’s sneer loomed above her, a twisted specter of her worst fears coming down on her in one.

“You’re nothing but a waste, a pathetic remnant of something that should have never been born,” Smallsky whispered, her voice dropping to a lethal murmur that sent chills racing down Spring’s spine. “You can try to live as though you’re worth something, but deep down, you know the truth. You’re broken, flawed, and no matter how far you run, you’ll never be more than that scared little kit you were moons ago, cowering in the shadows of the damned nursery.” As Smallsky’s claws raked deeper, tearing through flesh and scar tissue alike, Spring’s mind grew hazy, her thoughts a muddled blur of agony and despair. She felt herself slipping, sinking beneath the weight of her mother’s words, the pain lancing through her throat like a burning brand. Her limbs grew heavy, her body sinking into the cold, unyielding earth as her strength drained away, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. And yet, despite the overwhelming pain, a flicker of defiance still burned within her, a tiny, stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished. But Smallsky’s voice slithered through her mind, cutting through her thoughts with a chilling finality. “Your time is almost up, Spring,” she whispered, her words seeping into Spring’s very bones like ice. “Soon, you’ll be nothing but a memory—a pitiful, forgotten ghost wandering the depths of the dark forest. And when you’re here, when you’re finally consumed by the darkness you so desperately tried to deny, you’ll remember my words. You’ll know that you can never escape me. That no matter where you run, no matter how far you hide, I will always find you.”

With a final, brutal twist of her claws, Smallsky’s paw drove deeper into Spring’s throat and forcefully tugged it back, ripping open the old scar with a merciless, tearing motion that left Spring gasping desperately for air, her breath sputtering as blood filled her mouth. The taste was sharp and metallic like copper, coating her tongue as her vision faded, her body crumpling beneath her mother’s relentless attack. The shadows seemed to close in, swallowing her whole, suffocating her beneath their weight as Smallsky’s cold, triumphant laughter echoed through the darkness, sealing her fate. As her mother’s image began to fade, replaced by an encroaching darkness that threatened to consume her entirely, Spring’s heart pounded one final time, and then the nightmare shattered. Spring jolted awake, her eyes flying open as she gasped, her breath shallow and ragged, the lingering pain in her throat so vivid it felt as if her mother’s claws had truly torn into her flesh. The nursery was quiet, wrapped in the comforting shadows of night, yet every part of her felt raw and exposed, as though she’d brought the darkness of her nightmare back with her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body trembling as she struggled to ground herself, to remember that she was safe, that she was here; alive. She reached a paw to her throat, her fur damp with sweat as her paw gingerly brushed over her old scar she had for moons, feeling the unbroken skin beneath.

Trying to be funny and stuck in a room
There isn't much more to say about it
Can one be funny when stuck in a room?

But the wound, though healed, throbbed with an all-consuming ache, as if the memory of her mother’s touch still lingered there, a cruel reminder of her mother’s words. A sob clawed its way up her throat, quiet and hoarse, but she bit it back, pressing her mouth shut as her chest heaved with the force of her suppressed grief. Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as she shivered, her shoulders trembling with the weight of the fear and anguish that had clawed at her in the nightmare. Stars, why did StarClan have to curse her like this? Did they just hate her that much for the decisions she made? Silence wrapped around her, but it felt too thin and fragile, as though the shadows in the nursery might give way at any moment, revealing the specter of her mother, waiting with sharpened claws. Spring curled in on herself, pressing her body against the soft moss of her nest, as if its familiar texture could anchor her, pull her back from the depths of despair. Her breath came in shallow, shuddering gasps as she lay there, her heart racing, her throat aching with the phantom pain, her mind still echoing with her mother’s venomous words. She sobbed quietly, the sound muffled, her chest tight with the fear that she couldn’t shake. It felt as though Smallsky’s presence still lingered, just beyond her vision, waiting to reach out and drag her back into that suffocating darkness. Spring buried her face in her paws, the soft fur dampening her quiet cries as she fought to contain the terror that pulsed beneath her skin, her body wracked with tremors that she couldn’t still.

Being in, trying to get something out of it
Try making faces
Try telling jokes, making little sounds

The nursery around her was calm, almost serene, bathed in a silvery glow that filtered softly through the branches overhead. Shadows painted the walls in gentle, indistinct patterns, their edges softened by the moonlight. To any other cat, it might have been comforting, a peaceful haven in the quiet of the night, but Spring couldn’t feel it; every nerve in her body was strung tight, raw and frayed, as though Smallsky’s sharp claws were still pressed against her throat, a ghostly grip that refused to ease. Her mother’s words echoed in the back of her mind, quiet but insidious, snaking into every corner of her thoughts, poisoning the air around her. The words pulsed with a life of their own, latching on like thorns buried deep beneath her skin; unyielding and barbed, whispering that her mother was still out there, watching her with that familiar, cold gaze that never failed to strip her down to her weakest self. Every creak of the branches outside, every whisper of the wind slipping through the den seemed to carry the weight of her mother’s presence, the shadow of her wrath hanging thick and unshakable, as if she were standing just outside, waiting, ready to tear into her the moment she let her guard down. She couldn’t shake the sense that the darkness held something more, watching from the edges of her vision, just beyond her reach. She forced herself to take slow, shallow breaths, but each inhale only seemed to deepen the uneasy tightness in her chest, the slow, suffocating dread that spread from her heart to her stomach, twisting and churning until it was an ache she couldn’t ignore.

I was a kid who was stuck in his room
There isn't much more to say about it
When you're a kid and you're stuck in your room

Try making faces
Try telling jokes, making little sounds

Her stomach clenched as she thought of her mother’s threat, the sneering promise that her days were numbered. How much time did she have left? She didn’t know, couldn’t know, but the uncertainty felt like a weight dragging her under, pressing down with an unbearable finality. Every second she remained in the dark felt like a countdown ticking away, an invisible threat looming ever closer, unseen yet terrifyingly real. Spring’s fur prickled, her skin crawling with the irrational but unshakeable fear that if she closed her eyes, Smallsky would appear, materializing from the shadows of the Dark Forest with a cruel, triumphant grin, her claws gleaming as she closed in, ready to finish what she’d started. The nursery felt both too small and far too vast, an endless void and a stifling cage all at once, trapping her with her own fears, feeding them until they grew monstrous and wild, a part of her she could neither control nor escape. Spring’s claws dug into her nest as she fought to keep herself anchored, but her breaths were shallow, ragged, her body tensed as if bracing for an attack. She knew she should try to sleep, knew that rest was the only way to shake off the nightmare’s lingering hold, but the thought of closing her eyes, of slipping back into darkness, made her heart race with a fresh wave of terror. What if her mother was waiting for her there, lurking in the shadows of her mind, ready to drag her back into that suffocating nightmare, back to the claws and the pain and the words that tore her apart? What if this time, she didn’t wake up?

Well, well
Look who's inside again
Went out to look for a reason to hide again
Well, well
Buddy, you found it
Now, come out with your hands up
We've got you surrounded

The thought settled in her chest, cold and heavy, rooting her in place, her gaze wide and unfocused as she stared into the dark. She felt the creeping chill of paranoia seeping into her bones, each rustle of the bare branches outside a reminder that there could be something—or someone—just beyond her sight, watching, waiting. Maybe it would be better if she just stayed awake for the rest of the night, her eyes open, her senses sharp, her guard unbroken. Her heart beat a steady, hollow rhythm against her ribs as she lay there, unmoving, her gaze fixed on the entrance, her breaths shallow and tense as she prepared herself to face whatever might come crawling out of the dark. She didn’t care for the consequences of this; the only thing that mattered, was her sanity being on the line.