#thorneyes

It used to be Rohesia could count on one dream to be her nightmare. The one where she drowned - that fear had supplanted all of her childhood terrors, and a few more besides. 

It’s not that the terror of the water has lessened. At times just walking the piers of Limsa Lominsa is enough to make her break out in a cold sweat. That fear she’s quite sure will never leave her. 

But there are other fears, now - not worse, perhaps, but more immediate, more gnawing. Ones that she cannot so easily dodge by avoiding boats and beaches - cannot so easily turn her mind from. 

Tonight in this dream - she knows in some way that she is dreaming, even though she can’t seem to escape it - it’s those other fears, nipping at her heels. 

At one point she was running the streets of her childhood home, winding the narrow corridors of sun-red stone and trying, desperately, to get away. Now it’s all dark, and she’s lost her way. Or maybe the way is gone now, the way it sometimes is in dreams. 

She can do nothing for that - not here and now, when everything in her still screams for her to run. Whatever it takes, only so she might get away. 

The shifting sound of her pursuer makes her shudder. She shoves herself back against a wall, and though she can’t feel her hands, can’t feel her breath panting, somehow in this dream, she knows this is the most panic she’s ever felt. 

Even so - she curls a hand into a fist, waiting for it to draw closer. There’s nowhere left for her to run. All that’s left for her to do is to strike out. 

The hissing voice of this nightmare thing drags over her like sandpaper. “Thorneyessss… it’s too late for them. Come here… let me devour you, too.” 

Rohesia clenches her jaw so tightly it must nearly crack. 

“Deliciousss, their aether… won’t you give yours to me, too?” 

Closer and closer the hissing, shifting form comes. Rohesia tightens her fist, and makes ready to turn the corner - 

And finally, finally, jolts awake. 

Gorseheart felt the cold stares of what felt like everyone in the Clan, icy glares seeping  into his bones and around his heart, as if they wished to freeze it to a stop. 

Why must he keep making one mistake after another? He had only ever wanted to prevent war between his Clan and Skyclan, and for that he went through complete and utter darkness. It was as if he fell through a pitch-black tunnel, and on the other end were cats that mimicked his friends, but really hated him, and all he wanted was to return to the other side where they laughed with him, shared food with him, loved him.

He noticed his best friend since kithood settle down in the shade with a squirrel. Rushing to the fresh-kill pile, Gorseheart picked up a vole and raced to join him, slowing when he neared to seem casual. “Halflight! Mind if I join you?”

Halflight looked away awkwardly. “A little bit. I’m just waiting for Primrose.” Hadn’t she just left to hunt?

“Oh. Okay. Maybe later?”

Halflight looked doubtful. His gaze flitted to Blightstar, resting on the highledge. It was only a second’s glance, but Gorseheart noticed it, and he realized the true reason for Halflight’s denial. “You know, you don’t have to avoid me just because you’re afraid it’ll get you on the wrong side of Blightstar’s anger.”

Halflight’s ears flattened defensively. “Yeah, well, he’s angry and for once I’m not the one causing it. Don’t ruin that just because you can’t stand eating by yourself.”

Gorseheart tried not to let his fur bristle. Suddenly he didn’t feel like sharing a meal with his so-called friend. “Enjoy your food,” he said bitterly, padding away.

A little later in the day, Gorseheart spotted Mallowfur. He approached nervously. Neither of them had spoken since Gorseheart nearly–accidently–killed his mate and the medicine cat, Firejay. Gorseheart still had the leaf wrap around his eye from when Mallowfur struck him for it.

But as soon as Mallowfur noticed him approaching, he quickly turned around and headed in the opposite direction. Gorseheart’s hopeful tail fell dejectedly. He wasn’t going to bother trying to speak with Firejay. She was the most forgiving of his friends, but she was still recovering. Guilt weighed his heart down heavily. None of this would have happened if he had just listened to his leader!

Or if his leader had listened to him, a small voice in the back of his head said.

Gorseheart ignored it, mostly, and looked around. He spotted Thorneyes curled beside the warriors’ den. He lifted a paw to walk over, then hesitated. He didn’t want to be ignored or rejected again by someone he cared about. But he also couldn’t stand curling in his and Emberdawn’s nest for another night believing that they now hated him. He knew, somewhere, that it wasn’t true. The problem, though, was that it felt like it was. He had to show himself it wasn’t. He just wanted to get his old, happy life back, and forget all the trauma and hurt that now surrounded him everywhere he went.

“The shade is good here,” Gorseheart murmured uncertainty. “Mind if I join you? I’m sweating in this heat.” He hated that he had to think of a reason.

Thorneyes shrugged. “I don’t own the shadows.”

“No, I suppose not.” Gorseheart sat beside him. He struggled to find something to say. He just wanted to talk as they normally would, but now he was so worried of saying the wrong thing and ruining his chances to be friends again–but they were still friends, weren’t they?

“Uh, do you prefer the cold or warmth? I don’t think I ever asked.” What a stupid question.

“The cold keeps the prey buried in their nests. The heat brings them out,” Thorneyes responded simply. 

“Right,” Gorseheart tried to smile. They were talking, which was more than anyone else was doing for him besides his mate, but it still felt awkward, like they were meeting for the first time and had not been close for seasons. 

Thorneyes stood, stretching. “They should be hunted before the weather lessens.”

“Can I go with you?” Gorseheart asked a bit too quickly. 

Thorneyes blinked at him. “You can hunt all you wish, but I prefer to be alone.”

“I understand,” Gorseheart called after him. His chest squeezed painfully. He tried not to show how much everything was hurting, and for once he was glad that one of his eyes was covered up, so that he only had to hide the pricking of one.

Perhaps he will go on a hunt, and get everything out of his head. But as he neared the thorn tunnel, he was stopped by a voice from behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Hope faltering to a near complete end, Gorseheart turned to see Blightstar. “I was just going to hunt.”

“Were you?” Blightstar questioned doubtfully. “There’s already two patrols out, and Thorneyes. Do you want to know what I think? I think you were trying to speak with Greenstar again, behind my back–again.”

Gorseheart shuddered inwardly. No way in Starclan was he ever, ever going to make that mistake again. “I was just going to hunt,” he repeated.

“We have enough food already and we’re getting more,” Blightstar replied. “For once in your life, be useful. Repair the dens.”

“But I–”

“Do it!” Blightstar snapped. Tail twitching, he padded for the medicine den. 

By now, Gorseheart struggled not to collapse, not to even tremble. All he wanted was for things to go back to normal, or at least to be able to talk to one of the cats he had been best friends with for seasons–years, really, without constantly worrying about messing up and saying the wrong thing. Now he couldn’t even go to be alone with his agonizing thoughts, because Blightstar didn’t trust him enough to leave the camp on his own.

The only one he had now was Emberdawn, and she was one of the hunters–possibly on the complete other side of the territory. Gorseheart forced himself to breathe calmly and deeply, to not hyperventilate, though it felt very much within reach. How had things happened so that he felt only completely, and utterly alone?

--Odd to make a story while talking about he comes to forgive them, but I’ve been wanting to for a while anyway!

--Base is here by MirAnimates. I would have added the leaf wrap that was mentioned in the story, but tbh it was too hard and my phone was on very low battery so I didn’t have a whole lot of time.

--His scar is redder because it’s fresher.

--While Gorseheart in no way deserves this treatment, they do have fairly good reason.

-When Gorseheart was attacked sneaking into Skyclan territory to speak with Greenstar and hopefully prevent battle, Brownfrond wanted to go with him. Brownfrond is Blightstar’s son and was hurt, so Blightstar is furious at that AND at Gorseheart getting into a fight with a Skyclan patrol and making things worse.

-Thorneyes and his mate, Nettledeer, are going through a tough time, which is why he’s awkward and wants to be alone. Gorse has no way of knowing this.

-In his panic from his trauma, and PTSD, he struck Firejay, thinking she was Foxbreeze, and nearly killed her. That’s why both she and Mallowfur are angry at him.

-Halflight is normally the one Blight snaps at, and he’d do anything to be on Blight’s good side for once.

“‘Ow come you never talk ‘bout your family?” 

The question stopped Q’ndai in his tracks, if only for a moment. He affected a casual shrug, and kept walking along the edge of the roof, hands tucked in pockets. 

“Don’t have one.” 

Rohesia scowled, flicking a moldy scrap of bread crust towards him. “Yes y’ do,” she retorted. “That’s how seekers get names, aye? Otherwise you’d just be Ndai.” 

“Maybe they’re all dead,” Q’ndai said. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could see his tail twitching back and forth in arcs, even though he hadn’t pulled his hands out to steady his balance. 

“Used t’ have isn’t the same as not havin’ at all.” 

Rohesia continued to cut little spots of mold off of the loaf while Q’ndai made his circuit of the low wall. 

“Maybe I made it up,” he said, as he finally rounded a corner and she could see his face in profile. He didn’t look lighthearted about it - There was a fangy grin on his face, sure, but that was closer to bared teeth than a smile. There was a line, and something was pushing it. 

Roh figured she had a bit further to push before he decided to make a point by decking her, though, so she scoffed. “Aye, sure. You’d love goin’ by no name but your own, t’ put a twist in th’ tail of any who heard it. Don’ tell me you wouldn’t.” 

Q’ndai took a few more moments to answer that, his expression twitching through a few minute variations. Finally he pulled his hands out of his pockets, and gave a shrug. “Maybe,” he said, as he jumped down from the wall and onto the flat of the roof, “I’m the nunh’s exiled favorite son, and I’m waiting to grow strong and challenge a villain to take my rightful place.” 

Roh threw another bit of mold at him. “I’m not callin’ you your highness, y’ daft miqo.” 

Q’ndai caught it and threw it right back, forcing Roh to duck away. “You’ll regret it when I’m king o’ all Ala Mhigo, Thorneyes,” he said with a smirk. “Bow down, peasant!” 

Rohesia

Belladonna

This is the poison of falling in love. You taste it and your heart beats fast. Your eyes dilate, you fall into deep delirium. You may be a bit dramatic and impulsive, and it gets you into trouble sometimes, but you just can't help yourself. It's in your blood. You love because it is the truest beauty you've found in this harsh world. Even when it's hurt you before, when it's poisoned you, you still find a way. They may call you naive for still believing in it, or vain for making yourself and your surroundings so meticulously lovely. But to love like this is brave and noble, and I hope you find the beauty you seek. Chances are, it's within and all around you already, if you know where to look.

(She always feels too deeply, even when she's hurt to the point of trying not to.)

Q'ndai

Doll's Eyes

This is the poison of unchecked vices. You slip into hallucinations. You are wracked with convulsions. The delirium threatens to overwhelm you. What are you running from? You look in every direction, wild-eyed at every turn, seeking some reprieve from what torments you. Each vice brings new consequences, and the price of escape seems too great, and yet you cannot seem to face things head on. If you aren't running from yourself, I hope you find a true way to freedom soon. And if you are running from yourself, perhaps you would do well to realize your pain is not something you can simply escape by avoidance. You deserve healing just as much as the ones you love. Someday, soon I hope, you will know this and feel it and reach inward to grant yourself all the kindnesses you offer others. That is the only true way to peace for ones like us. Oh, and if the pain of it seems too great? I hope that you realize you don't have to do it alone.

(Eternally running from some truth he can't face.)

I stole this one from @shadesofblades! I think it's a bit old but if anyone hasn't done it, take this as your opportunity?