Northern did not, in fact, go home. Well- he kinda did, he supposed. He went back to Seaclan’s territory anyways, but it was not one of the two campgrounds he retreated to. He couldn’t face any of his clanmates right now, not with his veneer of elegance and control so utterly shattered into pieces. He couldn’t face his clanmates. His leader. His siblings. His ren. Not right now. Not with the things he so carefully tried to hide away so plainly in sight. Not with something that, for once, was actually *true*. Was *this* who he really was? Under it all? He had put up these smoke and mirrors when he was a kit, and had never taken them down. Worn a mask so long that it had simply become his face. Soulfaith had seen it. And Northern didn’t like it. Could he ever face the loner again after that? What even *was* he? **Who** even was he?? He knew, of course. He was a piece of the northern star, his sire. Fallen from the heavens and into the sea, given his life, his form, his tail. The clans have given him the name Northernlegacy, and he walked (or swam) among them to find and fulfill his purpose. His reason for being… …But the one single truth he told himself now tasted as bitter as a lie. Felt as hollow as he. That was the truth, wasn’t it? It had to be. It was what and **who** he was. And it was all he knew how to be. And yet, here Northernlegacy was. Utterly loosing control of himself. He felt like he was trying to reassemble a skeleton with missing bones and cracked pieces. Nothing made any *sense*.. What even *was* that? What had *happened* to him in the barrens? It felt like he had been dying, that reality itself had crumbled around him. Who was that voice that he had heard? A memory? From where? It was so.. Familiar, and yet, it felt like trying to remember a fleeting dream, gone to the recesses of his mind. …Was it the northern star? Was that why he had been feeling so off lately? The random nightmares, the strange bouts of things he couldn’t place? Dread and fear, the almost painful way his gut clenches at the thought of being left behind? Left behind by *who* even? Was he being tested by his sire? Was he being mocked? Punished? Was it to help guide him to finding his purpose? Had he already failed without realizing? …Or perhaps the stars made a mistake in creating him. And they knew it. Maybe he was simply made by them.. Wrong. Maybe he had no purpose. Maybe his purpose was something wholly unachievable And maybe, he would never be whole. Northern came to a halt, gills flaring with each rapid pump and push of water drew in breath. He had swum all the way to the Sunken Slopes, it seemed. Why here, of all places? He really shouldn’t be here, not alone, with how many sharks roamed about here. But where else could he go? Not back to camp, he couldn’t face his clanmates or family still. Not to the barrens, or the rock that had felt like safe haven. He couldn’t face Soulfaith. Northernlegacy looked up, to the surface of the water that sent rays of lights from the moon and caustics dancing down. When had it become night? Northernlegacy nearly swam up, to breach the surface, but paused. He couldn’t go there either. Not to where the stars, his sire, could see. To judge and laugh at him. How tragic, when it was those very stars that had always given him so much peace now sent him fear and dread? …So, he couldn’t go anywhere. Then it seemed here was where he had to be. Northernlegacy’s gills flared with a sigh, and he slowly began to swim through the underwater cliffs and ridges. He should be more wary, more careful. But wasn’t it he who swore that no harm could befall upon a being such as him? Did he even believe in that anymore? ..What *did* he even believe in anymore? Northern growled and lashed his tail, fins flaring. “Get *ahold* of yourself.” Northernlegacy hissed to himself. “This is unbecoming, unacceptable behavior. You don’t act like this, you *never* act like this! Why are you acting like this now?? Why are you acting so- so *wrong*???” Northernlegacy was yelling at himself. It was no one but him that was spitting such venom. So why, at his own words, did he want to curl up into a ball and cower like a scolded kit? With a huff, Northern’s gaze drifted down, before the mercat paused. ...
... Because on the side of one of the slopes, nestled and hidden into the jagged edges and concealed by underwater flora.. Was what looked like a small opening. Northern swam towards it, wriggling his way through and found himself swimming down a tunnel. A tunnel that led to a dark sea cave. …Why was it familiar? Why was it that when he looked around the space, barren aside from what looked like the remnants of some sort of small nest of shells, pearls, fish bones, shiny stones and other trinkets, that his heart started to hammer in his throat? It was familiar, but not in a way that felt safe. …But, he supposed that it was safer than out in the open at the moment. Northern swallowed down a whimper (why did he even want to whimper?) as he swam forward, adjusting the nest till it was a size that was more suitable for him (before it was quite small, no bigger than what a kit could fit into. Maybe this was the old lair of some strange creature) and settled into it. He would go back tomorrow. Surely by then, he would be better. Ready to face others with his usual flippant ease. Maybe after that, he would go see Soulfaith, tell him that a Vyrrafowl beetle had bitten him, and had caused his strange behaviors. Yes, that’s what he would do. Tomorrow… ... He did not, in fact, go back tomorrow. (Northern will be hiding out in the sunken slopes for the next moon or so! If anyone who knows him, especially in seaclan, wants to mention his strange absence irp, feel free!) Song and title is Sleepwalk by Forrest Day
