TW - Bl00d, death. ════════════════════════════ ACT I THE FOREST REMEMBERS "The dead rarely chase us. We walk back to them." ════════════════════════════ Reality Strength :: 80% Memory Strength :: 20% Identity Strength :: Stable Known Witnesses :: • Daffodilkit • ShatteredCrown Unknown Presence :: 1 Current Objective :: Return to the war room. Threat Assessment :: Unknown. Status :: Pending. ... ═══════════════════════════════════════════════ a second fracture. A voice that did not belong to the room. Did not belong to speech. Did not belong to the present tense. “He doesn’t care about me.” Hornetvenom. Not here. Not present. Not visible. Vultureslaughter’s jaw tightened once. No response. Acknowledging it would give it structure. The map pulsed. Ink turning briefly into something resembling breath. “Maplestar requested no interference.” No one reacted. That was worse than denial. That meant acceptance had already happened. Vultureslaughter froze. Maplestar was not part of this space. And yet, she was now a fact inside it. Reality was no longer filtering correctly. It was importing things incorrectly. The war room began to feel less like a place, and more like a memory pretending to be one. Behind him, The kit shifted. Closer now. Daffodilkit. Alive in a way that made logic uncomfortable. “Are we done yet?” Vultureslaughter flinched. Barely. “You are not here.” Daffodilkit tilted her head. “I never liked waiting for permission.” The war room loosened at the edges. Shatteredcrown appeared. Not arriving. Just suddenly.. true. Standing where authority should have been. Watching him. Evaluating. “You’re slipping.” Vultureslaughter did not turn. “I am leading.” “You are remembering incorrectly.” The kit stepped closer. “Are we going to pretend you didn’t miss me?” Silence fractured further. “Leave.” Daffodilkit blinked. “You always say that when you run out of answers.” The map stopped being a map. It became something softer. Something alive. Something that used to run. Cedarear’s voice echoed faintly from nowhere. “You already chose.” Vultureslaughter’s breath sharpened. “Stop.” But nothing stopped. Because nothing had been real enough to obey him for several seconds now. The war room dissolved without disappearing. It simply stopped being agreed upon. And the forest arrived. Grass underpaw. Wet air. No walls. No orders. No structure. Only him. And the kit. Daffodilkit circled once. Not cautious. Not afraid. Curious. “You look different.” Vultureslaughter’s voice came slower now. “You are not real.” “That’s funny,” Daffodilkit replied softly. “You’re the one who thought of me first.” Silence. That landed too precisely. Because it was true in a way that didn’t require permission. Behind them, Shatteredcrown remained. Watching. Not correcting. Not saving. Just witnessing. Above— Hornetvenom’s voice lingered in distortion. And Maplestar’s name still existed where it should not. Vultureslaughter exhaled. Controlling becomes an effort. “This is not real.” Daffodilkit nodded. “No.” A pause. “But neither are you, if you stop remembering us.” Silence. And somewhere far behind the forest The war room still existed. But Vultureslaughter did not turn around. And that was the moment nothing could return to what it was. The forest answered with silence. Not the silence of peace. The silence that came before prey realized something was watching. Vultureslaughter remained still. His breathing steadied. One breath. Then another. Control returned. Good. He had faced worse than memories. "Daffodil." The kit looked up. "What?" He swallowed. "...Nothing." If he spoke to her… she became real. If she became real… this place won. So he walked. One paw. Then another. The forest accepted him without sound. No birds. No insects. No wind. Only pawsteps that seemed to arrive a heartbeat after he placed them. Daffodilkit trotted behind him. Not because she had been invited. Because she had always followed him. Just like that day. Neither spoke. The trees grew older. Thicker. Roots twisted across the earth like old scars. Then another set of pawprints appeared in the mud. Tiny. Fresh. Vulturekit's. Vultureslaughter stopped. They hadn't been there a heartbeat ago. Daffodilkit walked straight past him. She wasn't looking at the older tom anymore. She was looking ahead. "I remember this." "No." His answer came too quickly. "No, you don't." "I do." She smiled sadly. "You made sure I never forgot." The undergrowth shifted. Not from wind. From memory. A pair of young cats burst through the ferns. Laughing. Panting. One dark-furred kit. One tiny kit struggling to keep up. "Slow down!" Daffodilkit squeaked. Vulturekit looked back over his shoulder, grinning. "You wanted to come!" "I didn't know we'd run this much!" "You'll be fine!" "I think my legs are gonna fall off!" He laughed. Actually laughed. Cont in N + C
The sound struck Vultureslaughter harder than any claw ever had. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard himself laugh. Younger Vulture skidded to a stop, waiting for the kit to catch up before gently nudging her shoulder. "C'mon. We've gotta be back before anyone notices. I promised." Older Vulture closed his eyes. "No..." Not this one. Anything but this one. When he opened them, the memory continued without him. Vulturekit glanced around excitedly. "See? I told you the forest wasn't scary." Daffodilkit puffed out her chest. "I wasn't scared!" "You screamed when that frog jumped." "I did not!" "You absolutely did." "I was warning you!" "You climbed onto me." "I was... protecting you!" The dark kit laughed again. "Sure you were." She bumped into his shoulder. "You would've protected me too." "...Always." The word echoed. Always. Vultureslaughter's ears flattened. Because he knew something they didn't. He knew exactly where this path ended. He took a step forward. Then another. Faster. "No." His voice came out rough. "Turn around." The younger pair kept walking. "You need to leave." Nothing. "You hear me?" He broke into a run. Branches whipped across his shoulders. "I SAID TURN AROUND!" He reached for Vulturekit— His paw passed through the kit's shoulder as though it were smoke. Vultureslaughter stumbled. Hit the ground. Skidded through dead leaves. "No..." He scrambled back to his paws. Again. He lunged. Again his claws met nothing. Again. Again. Again. Each attempt is slower than the last. Behind him Ghost Daffodil hadn't moved. She watched in silence. "You can't save us." He ignored her. Again. He threw himself between the memory and the trail ahead. The memory walked through him. Like he had never existed. "You couldn't then." Again. "You can't now." "Be quiet." "You've already watched this." "I said be quiet." "You remember every second." "I SAID—" "You remember how long I screamed." Silence. Even the forest stopped breathing. Vultureslaughter froze. Ghost Daffodil's voice became almost impossibly quiet. "You remember because you never forgave yourself." A long pause. Then, for the first time there was accusation in her eyes. sorrow. "I forgave Vulturekit." She looked past him. Toward the laughing kit disappearing deeper into the trees. "I would never forgive you." And somewhere ahead, far enough away to make hope hurt, a young voice laughed one last time. Then the forest answered with a scream. Something was wrong. The scream stopped. Not because the pain had ended. Because there was no breath left to carry it. Silence crashed over the forest. Vultureslaughter ran. Branches clawed across his shoulders. Roots caught beneath his paws. He didn't feel them. The trees blurred together until they became nothing but streaks of bark and shadow. "No..." His voice broke against the undergrowth. "No, no, no..." He knew this path. Every root. Every stone. Every crooked pine leaning over the stream. He had walked it in his sleep. He had walked it every night since. His pace faltered. Just once. There– A patch of flattened grass. Drops of crimson. Small. Too small. Then more. More. More. Until the earth itself disappeared beneath scarlet. His breath caught. "No..." The ferns parted. Vulturekit was already there. Collapsed beside a tiny golden body. "Daffodil!" His younger self's paws shook so violently he could barely touch her. "No, no– Daffy, look at me!" The kit didn't answer. Blood clung to her fur. Far too much of it. Vulturekit looked around wildly. "Help!" Nothing. "There has to be someone!" Nothing. "I CAN FIX THIS!" His voice cracked. "I just—I just need moss!" He scrambled away, gathering the first thing he could find. Wet moss. Leaves. Cobwebs. Anything. Everything. He shoved it against the wound with desperate little paws. "It'll stop." His breathing became frantic. "It always stops. It has to stop. It has to—" The moss turned red. His paws turned red. Everything turned red. ☆ ☆ ☆ THE FOREST REMEMBERS - ACT I - CONINUED IS VIEWABLE NOW! PLEASE SEE IMMEDIATELY FOR FULL UNDERSTANDING OF THE CONCEPT. https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1350589529/ First - https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1335552771/ Previous - The first ^^ Credits for this one can be seen in the continued ending! ☆ ☆ ☆