Panicked paws raced through the dense trees and shrubbery of Thunderclan's territory, eyes red but not leaking with tears. No, the young warrior looked more desperate than sad. They'd returned the night before finding their friend gone. Well, to be more precise, their friend had been gone for quite some time now. She just hadn't noticed until they hadn't shown up to the special meeting they'd invited them to. Now it had been too long, too much time. Fear gripped at her heart, panting as fae ripped and pounded through the slowly wilting plants and dreary trees. Why hadn't she gone searching sooner? Alas, this was no longer a logical search for a best friend. No, this was a restless sprint, a race to satisfy a spirit calling for something that could no longer be. Longing soured in their soul, twisting and pulling at her heart. As if nearly ruinin- No, not nearly. She had ruined the bond between her and Maleficentreign, having pulled and knotted the rope that tied them together. Had she done the same thing with Sparkdelirium? What if telling fae some of their darkest secrets and scared them away, sending their clanmate into self-exile? Such was a delusional thought, which could be easily dismissed with a clear mind. Alas, she had no clear mind right now. Their head felt muddled and frantic. It was like a forest fire in a marsh. Impossible, but somehow still happening. Opposing elements clash in a battle that would never be won, simply resulting in destruction. All this was creating a pounding headache, splintering through whatever frail sanity she was clinging to. Bursting through the brambles, their paws skidded up against a moist bank. Fallen sunset-colored leaves were swept up in her halt, whipping around in the sharp wind. Her fur was instantly pushed back, the ruthless air a sign of an incoming storm. But perhaps her attempt to avoid falling into the stream was too late, or maybe she simply wanted to go for a swim. Whatever happened remains a mystery to us. However, we do know that the feline tumbled into the river. The water rippled off her fur in currents, green and blue eyes emerging from under the surface. Fae gasped for air, curling up as she crawled out of the river. The sky was a faint periwinkle, dusty lavender sprinkled across the cloudy abyss. Wispy but suddenly calm, the clouds trapped a phlox hue. It was as if the world decided to don the shades that the cat's flower crown showed, purple. The color of royalty, power. But purple was not just a color of elegance and pride. It was a color of mourning, ambiguity, reverence, and patience. Both the physical storm and the metaphorical one had died, something suddenly grounding the cat in some way. The purple glow of the gloomy sky shone on the feline's pelt as if to reassure them. She was here, at this moment, as she knew who she was. Somewhat. They knew several things to be true, yet sometimes she also felt herself question the fundamentals of identity that many cats had set in stone. Who was she? Was she even a 'she' at all? They found some sort of confidence in being called a 'she'. Breathing deeply, the cat shifted to a more comfortable position and gazed upon the swaying orchid abyss known as the sky. The sky was a constant. When she couldn't count on herself, she could count on the sky. /I am a warrior./ The thought made her paws tingle, a sense of reality coming upon her. /I live in Thunderclan./ Now the tingling reached the joints on her legs, starting up her tail. /I have a brother and a sister./ Even if the relationships between the trio were strained, it was true nonetheless. The tingling tiptoed up to her shoulders. /I am Kestrel, a powerful trainee of stealth and deceit./ Her body shivered, the buzzing up to her neck. /I am a friend to many, a leader if I want to be./ The feeling felt like a blanket now, soft but not suffocating. /My name is Belligerentharvest./ Now the buzz reached in a pulled at her bones, swallowing her whole. /And I am whoever I want to be./ Then it all left, like water washing away the dirt and mud. It was eerily silent, but refreshing. All that pressure was washed away, swept to some far corner of her reality. If she lived in a glass bubble, then all the grime, dust, and dirt had been wiped away to reveal a perfectly transparent orb. That was the night Belligerentharvest decided she was no longer what other cats wanted her to be, as she had her entire life. This was the night that fae was themself. --- okay, okay-- sparkdelirium is dead. and belligerentharvest hasn't been having the best time lately, so what if she ran off looking for her dead friend? now, they're desperate and panicking, because no sleep + brother fight + dad problems + secret alliance + no bestie + gender = absolute panic. she emerges and gets a grasp on this, grounding herself by reciting things she knows to be true. all my stuff no steelies ty <33
