in all my dreams i drown [p]

[redshiftreign]

BUT I DON'T WANNA GO TO SLEEP.

IN ALL MY DREAMS I DROWN.

CW: Drowning, Death, Extreme Emotional Distress
@Dust [cherryswirl]

sleep.

he always seemed to find himself crawling back. there's only so much to do, and even if he didn't need it as much as he insisted he did, he always found himself asleep. for no reason but to pass time. to forget. it was his own little worship, as if he were pious. he was never a pious man. maybe that's why he dreamed. to escape. to run. to flee. because the storm was better.

but sleep was hell.

his's paws sunk into too-real mud, the river swollen further than he'd ever seen it. currents lapping at the slope of the bank. the rain didn’t seem to let up. heavy droplets tore the dirt asunder until only mud and stone remained. streams of thick, rolling liquid dirt cascaded down the hills and uprooted the grass and plants. beetles that once scuttled along the leaf litter swept up in the torrent of heavy rushing water, no shelter from the infernal storm that berated the dreamscape in its wrath. the sky saves no mercy. not for rushwater. not for anyone. not ever.

each drop felt like a stone pelted at him, heartbeat thundering in his ears as the small mound of un-deluged earth he stood upon shrunk as the river's banks encroached. panic. it was a feeling the ex-riverclanner knew too well. sharp clawed and devouring, it sunk into him and ripped him into a million little peices. it cut him. it shredded him. it left nothing in its wake.

whoever rushwater was, had been, and wanted to be was not what he was now. he could not be correctly and honestly identified by that name anymore. it was a misnomer now. something he had left with that collar and all of its silver links. something he had left with his place among everything he had ever known. something that had been stolen when his breath was, when his lungs filled with air and-

earth gives out from under his paws, sliding viciously into the drink. claw and tooth thrash. lightning crackles like a sardonic laugh. water. damn it. every dream became nightmare within the tempest that was his mind. storming, destructive, and consuming. he would compare it to a wildfire if it had not been so freezing cold. icy water cut through his short pelt like a dagger, forcing a breath to escape him before the undertow dragged him down the endless winding, scrambling with everything in him to push himself through the rapids. he did this in life innumerable times, but his bones locked up and his muscles cramped and blood leeched from wounds long since forgotten. red staining brackish water, lost in the current's roar.

suffocating. debris stung his eyes and assaulted his face as he writhed through the water, which felt as solid as ice and twice as cold to his soaked body. blood thundered in his ears, along with the boom of the storm above water, dull and forgotten under the tides. unable to hold his breath for a moment longer, his jaws parted in a desperate attempt to scrape the surface and swallow down precious air, but instead sand-paper water invaded his body and he choked, eyes wide and stung, lungs burning as if lit ablaze. drowning is not peaceful. drowning has never been peaceful. anyone to argue is a liar.

thrashing. fighting for his life, even in death, claws and teeth gnashed at an all encompassing enemy. he felt like he was as heavy as a stone. like paws were holding him under, and the water slowed his strikes and he was lost. water. the great equalizer. it didn't matter how strong you were if you were under it and your enemy was not.

for what felt like eternity but also mere seconds, he crashed into stone and current alike, consciousness flickering in that way that reminded him it was a dream but not enough to reassure. finally, when all the fight had been used up and all the agony insurmountable, his body collided with the bank and this time his claws caught solid ground. slowly, like a dead man, he wrenched himself out of the spray, unable to breathe. unable to cough to make room for air. unable to live. unable to die. somewhere inbetween.

who is he?

why?

why does it hurt?

why him?

finally managing to heave up a fraction of the murky water, dragging his hind legs from the water and onto the somewhat-solid but still unsteady bank.

finally, indigo eyes flickered upwards and he felt time stop completely. ginger paws, dried unlike his struggles, sloping upwards into a familiar pelt.

how had he done that? brought her here? was she a dream, too?

but it was new. it was different. it was hope. it was change. those were things he wanted. those were things he needed. he tried to speak, but merely choked on his words and sprung into another fit of coughing.

CARVING MY INITIALS IN THE BACK

OF MY HAND INCASE OF LOSING TRACK.

[Dust]

[ Cherryswirl - 54 Moons]

She/Her | Chaotic Good | Warrior
Go With The Flow [Active]

Sleep had come easily tonight. Perhaps from the comfort that came with being surrounded once again by familiar scents, sounds, and touch. The soft snoring of a clanmate just a paw length away. Their warm, gentle breaths created a rhythm that Cherry matched with her own. A soft pelt pressed either side of her - where once she absolutely abhorred the idea of sharing her personal space with those she wasn’t close with, she seemed to melt comfortably against them without much objection. Isolation had been torture...

This is heavenly…

Her consciousness slipped away, all thoughts dying down to nothingness. Darkness in her vision. Silence surrounding her on all fronts. Sleep…

----------------------------

Colors... Flashing into her vision. Beautiful visions of sunlight streaming through tree-tops replaced the darkness surrounding her. Leaves fluttered in delayed sync as a warm, comforting breeze buffeted her ginger fur. The sunlight flickered across her vision, Cherryswirl stepping her way out of the cool shadows of the forest, raising her head to bask in the sun's rays. She could feel it on her nose… on her cheeks… on her ears and in her eyes. It was a divine feeling. Something that could so rarely ever be topped. If there was nothing more to life than simply being able to admire the warmth of the sun on her body, Cherry would die a happy feline. Her eyes squeezed shut, a delightful smile teasing on her features as she seemed to witness her own happiness in the ethereal dream state. As it seemed, life’s pleasures only grew bountiful. Where nothing existed, the sense of smell came rushing back to her. The mouth-watering scent of the river soaked her tongue. Earthy, tinged with the odor of delicious prey that streamed beneath it. Her ears perked forwards as the sounds of the forest came alive around her. Curiosity piqued her interest now as the babbling of water grew louder and louder. Her frame drifted willingly in its direction. Only, she could see herself leaping now - it was like the earth was a trampoline. Sending her upwards with a gleeful cheer before she slowly descended, no fear of falling… no fear of pain.

A soft sigh escaped from her lips as she finally approached the shoreline of the river. An inhale. An exhale. The sparkling river was teeming with fish - some jumping from the surface only to sprout wings and fly away, others slipping through the stream-bed with an innate ease, their scales sparkling with a magnificent sheen. Blissfully unaware of her presence... Paws finally felt contact with the sandy shoreline beneath her, the sensation sending shivers up her toes, throughout her body, and all the way to the tip of her tail. After moments of silent contemplation and admiration of the scene before her, Cherry crouched, lowering her head to take a sip from the river. The taste was fresh, crisp on her tongue and pleasantly cool as it slid down her throat. Though, another sudden sensation at her paws caused her to jolt up in surprise.

Currents swelled up suddenly around her, water racing past her legs at an alarming speed unlike the gentle one she had originally found herself in. Then, in one swift motion, the water began to recede. It looked like the river was trying to pull away - much like the sea on a stormy day. And with it, that strange sensation of sand slipping beneath her paws followed. It felt like the earth was moving beneath her, without moving at all. An illusion of movement, where nothing occurred. She was still in the same spot… But despite this, she seemed to be going somewhere. The current was stealing her away.

Closer…

Closer….

Closer…..

An overwhelming darkness on the horizon pulled her in effortlessly, the once pleasant noises of birdsong and gentle winds amplifying their sounds to a horrible screeching pitch - trees swaying so violently in the sudden downpour that Cherryswirl, for the first time, felt fear creeping along her spine. As she turned to look at the, now surging, river where she once stood, the ground multiplied in its distance sending her to a presumably safer shore. Like her mind was fighting the sheer difference of the environment. It was all the same to her though. One steady dream that seemed to turn into a nightmare. In the distance, a figure drifted aimlessly down the river - their outline disappearing in the torrential currents. So she ran. She ran… and ran… despite covering no distance between herself and the river. As much as she seemed to push herself to move forward, to go, to save them… she was only a helpless spectator. The landscape twisted with each crane of her head, trying to get a better look at the figure. Were they still alive? Were they willingly in the water? How could she help?

Cherryswirl blinked.

And just like that, all her effort to move proved fruitful. Cherry was now squared up along the shore, wide golden eyes flickering back and forth in a mixture of worry, fear, and dismay. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, something… or rather someone, came clawing their way from beneath the rushing murky water. Staring in a quiet surprise, the noise around her seemed to swell before slowly shrinking down until only the two were visible in an endless space of darkness. All she could hear was his-

“Rush…?” -coughing and sputtering filling the small void. Cherryswirl blinked once more before speaking again, her voice soft and filled with concern as it echoed all around,

“Where did you come from?”

[ @redshiftreign - Rushwater ]

[redshiftreign]

@Dust [cherryswirl]

rush.

he hadn't heard that name in a while. it was quiet, blurred with his heartbeat and the storm and the water in his ears. but he recognized it, and it made his eyes widen and the world stop for a second.

honest to the stars, he never wanted to hear it again. through his coughing fit, tears strained his stinging eyes. he blinked them away because he was above that. this was his nightmare, he'd suffer as he pleased. finally wrenching the last of the water that would come from his lungs, he stood on shaking legs, head lowered in something between shame and fury. he wasn't an angry man. nor was he pious. or good. or anything. he wasn't anything.

where did you come from. . . ?

but all he heard was where did you go?

where did you go, rushwater? you left us again. you left me again. left me.

just like his father.

his fur was burning. he was festering. he was dying.

rushwater had already died. it felt like countless times. be it tooth and chain or rain and muck, one event left him with countless memories. countless nightmares.

he stared at her, dumb. mouth slightly open. a million new scars littered him. dog teeth in his throat, a chunk torn from above his brow. tattered ears, ripped pelt. his muzzle cut upwards. here, in a dream, his only contact with anyone that mattered. he wasn't sure how he had done it. maybe she was a memory, too, come to tear him apart and rip him to shreds. come to tell him how horrible he was. how the clan moved without him. how time spun, rivers ran, and grass grew. fertilized by his blood. riverclan was fed off of the blood of dedicated cats like rushwater. and it would bleed them dry.

would? it has. or else he wouldn't be here. in this situation.

the words finally came tumbling out.

"is eaglek- eaglepaw okay?" his own voice hurt his ears. raspier, rough, damaged. from floodwater and teeth. raw from abrasive sand and mud. his lungs scorched with the effort to expel a breath. his muscles tensed and spasmed and ached. everything hurt. but that was fine. rushwater had been used to that. he had endured that. he would for longer yet.

". . . and are you? i-" he cleared his throat, composing himself like he always did. "i'm sorry."

there are gaps. spots and holes in his memory. fractal fragments in a futile spiral, twisting churning and painfully mistaken. cherryswirl- he knows her name. knows eaglepaw is a paw now. but there's spots of confusion, like squinting at the sun. something torn out of him. something that snapped and fell away with his chain. something broke with it. he knew he was once rushwater. once a riverclan cat. had a daughter named eaglepaw that he. . . had found, he was pretty sure. cherryswirl was a good warrior. he. . . knew(?) her? that's why she was here. he knew her, respected her. that feeling hadn't changed. but he had. there were gaps, but he could use context clues to intuit what he had lost. so far, anyway.

CRY MY NAME, REMIND

MY BRAIN OF MY IDENITY.

[Dust]

[ Cherryswirl - 54 Moons]

She/Her | Chaotic Good | Warrior
Go With The Flow [Active]

This dream was… starting to scare her. Not that she could tell at the moment it was a dream. In fact, it felt pretty real. The creeping sensation like bugs crawling all up her pelt sent shivers throughout her skin - perhaps it was the way Rushwater looked that was causing her to squirm with unease? This was a dream right? But everything felt and looked so real. The exhaustion radiated from him in waves. The rasp of helplessness in his voice made her feel sick. When was the last time she had seen him? Leaf-bare? He was dead, right? Was this a premonition? Wait… was she dreaming? Or was she awake?

“Eaglepaw?” She mumbled softly, her eyes wide as her gaze very clearly flickered back and forth between Rushwater and seemingly nothing. Her head was spinning. When had she seen Eaglepaw last? At the meeting, she thought.

“She’s safe, Rush…” Safe? What kind of wording was that? It seemed her words were coming out all wrong. She was nervous. No - she was shaking. Beyond the other, the darkness was still swirling, pulsing and humming with a dream-like ferocity, pulling her attention away every few seconds. It was intense. Like Cherry would be sucked into the never ending vortex of despair, never to be seen again. The warrior shook her head viciously, eyes refocusing on his frail frame, “Sorry for what? … Ar-” Her mouth was moving, but the words coming from her throat were deathly silent aside. Her breath hitched in her throat, becoming acutely aware as her own vision began to darken slightly. Was Rushwater dead?



“Dead?” No.



It rang loud in the space between them. He still had to search for Minkpaw’s killer. The realization seemed to hit her hard, physically causing her to cringe with invisible pain. Cherryswirl’s paws were sinking deep in the mud now, achingly heavy.

“Minkpaw…? Did you find… her killer...?” She meowed breathlessly, her eyes lighting up hopefully.

[ @redshiftreign - Rushwater ]