Post by ♫.Starredmyst on Jun 20, 2008 20:04:55 GMT -5
Shadows held court in the cool, musty darkness of Patchstar's den. The deep, safe cave had walls whose hues varied from warm orange-chocolate to black as night. Patchstar could often be found staring at these walls, expression oddly vacant; claiming, confidently, that he could see the shadows move and take on shapes from his distant past.
It was strange -- the old, fat tom was slowly letting the Clan fall into chaos, further and further out of his personal control, and yet he seemed happier than ever he had been. He would spend hours speaking with soft delight to the empty, lifeless walls, digressing further and further into his shadowy dreams, and only the constant prodding of his daughter and deputy could pull him close enough to reality for such simple things as food and water.
Starr was beginning to wonder if her father would even return to them.
The young she-cat had begun to make a habit of spending her waking hours close to her father's den, sunning and talking quietly to Moonwhisker; she knew full well that Patchstar would take little notice of her even if she stood in front of his face and yowled at the top of her lungs, but somehow, that knowledge only made it seem the more necessary to stay close and soak in every detail of the building madness that made her heart ache.
And so it was that Starredmyst was half-asleep at the den entrance the sleepy dawn morning when her father finally woke back up.
The young grey she-cat had woken not long after moon-high the night before, clawing her way out of uneasy dreams about heart failure and enraged inter-Clan battles. She had spent some hours pacing outside of the crowded warrior den, long fur fluffed up against winter's bitter chill, and just before dawn had found herself lying sentinel to the right of the leader's den, exhausted by her long, wakeful night.
She was just about to fall asleep when she heard the yowl.
It was quite possibly the most pain-filled sound that had ever fallen on her high-bred ears. She did not remember the cry her father had given on her mother's deathbed, but knew it instantly to be much the same. It was the singular, heartbroken sound of someone who has found his dreams after long seasons waiting, only to have them torn away before his eyes.
In a flash the young she-cat got her paws under her and all but leapt into her father's dim habitat. Patchstar was curled up in his usual corner, but he was staring ahead of him with a glassy desolation in his eyes that sent a chill down Starredmyst's spine. To make matters worse, his gaze was turned in Starr's direction, and she was frightened by the way he seemed to look straight through her.
"No, Shimmer!" The leader's voice was positively heartbroken, so aching with sorrow that Starr could almost feel her own throat tighten. "You -- can't --"
"Daddy --"
Even as Starredmyst began to speak, however, she fell silent -- for words were flashing through her head, and for the briefest moment she wondered if she, too, were going insane.
I have to, Pat. The voice in Starr's head was so close to her own that she wasn't certain if it wasn't her own thoughts. It was just as sorrowful as her father's, and tight with anger. It's...not my decision. I'm sorry.
"Daddy," the she-cat repeated in a whisper, eyes wide. "Daddy, who --"
Patchstar didn't seem to hear her; he was intent on his ghosts, staring wildly at thin air. The voice, however, did, with startlement.
Starr --
Then it fell into sudden, distracted silence. I am, Redstar -- she shouldn't be able to hear me. I don't think she can you, else she'd have run in here sooner --
A pause. All right. If you think it'll help... Again, the anguish returned. Pat -- I'm so sorry -- I love you and it won't be long till you -- till I come back. Listen to your father, if -- if you love me.
"But --" Patchstar protested weakly, helplessly, and then broke down crying. Starredmyst could only stare at him -- and she jumped when the voice addressed her directly.
Starr. Choked-up though she was, the apparition sounded gentle. Almost -- loving. You've grown so. I shouldn't be so surprised that -- but -- I shouldn't say. It's not our place to interfere this directly. I love you --
A breeze blew through the den, brushing across Starr's cheek like a caress, and then the sense of presence was gone.
After a moment, Patchstar seemed to come to himself somewhat. The horrible sound of an old cat sobbing ceased, and he said, as if to himself, "Yes. I know. I'm -- going."
He pulled himself together and looked at Starr with a strange, half-weary, half-eager expression on his face. "I suppose I should go out there now, shouldn't I?" he asked her, and, still a little shell-shocked, she followed him to the den's exit.
"So what did I miss today?" the strange old tom asked with an alarming change of mood. Apparently he didn't realize how long he had been "sick."
Starr, herself, couldn't work up the words to explain what had just happened to her. All she could think was --
Darksong was...right.
It was strange -- the old, fat tom was slowly letting the Clan fall into chaos, further and further out of his personal control, and yet he seemed happier than ever he had been. He would spend hours speaking with soft delight to the empty, lifeless walls, digressing further and further into his shadowy dreams, and only the constant prodding of his daughter and deputy could pull him close enough to reality for such simple things as food and water.
Starr was beginning to wonder if her father would even return to them.
The young she-cat had begun to make a habit of spending her waking hours close to her father's den, sunning and talking quietly to Moonwhisker; she knew full well that Patchstar would take little notice of her even if she stood in front of his face and yowled at the top of her lungs, but somehow, that knowledge only made it seem the more necessary to stay close and soak in every detail of the building madness that made her heart ache.
And so it was that Starredmyst was half-asleep at the den entrance the sleepy dawn morning when her father finally woke back up.
The young grey she-cat had woken not long after moon-high the night before, clawing her way out of uneasy dreams about heart failure and enraged inter-Clan battles. She had spent some hours pacing outside of the crowded warrior den, long fur fluffed up against winter's bitter chill, and just before dawn had found herself lying sentinel to the right of the leader's den, exhausted by her long, wakeful night.
She was just about to fall asleep when she heard the yowl.
It was quite possibly the most pain-filled sound that had ever fallen on her high-bred ears. She did not remember the cry her father had given on her mother's deathbed, but knew it instantly to be much the same. It was the singular, heartbroken sound of someone who has found his dreams after long seasons waiting, only to have them torn away before his eyes.
In a flash the young she-cat got her paws under her and all but leapt into her father's dim habitat. Patchstar was curled up in his usual corner, but he was staring ahead of him with a glassy desolation in his eyes that sent a chill down Starredmyst's spine. To make matters worse, his gaze was turned in Starr's direction, and she was frightened by the way he seemed to look straight through her.
"No, Shimmer!" The leader's voice was positively heartbroken, so aching with sorrow that Starr could almost feel her own throat tighten. "You -- can't --"
"Daddy --"
Even as Starredmyst began to speak, however, she fell silent -- for words were flashing through her head, and for the briefest moment she wondered if she, too, were going insane.
I have to, Pat. The voice in Starr's head was so close to her own that she wasn't certain if it wasn't her own thoughts. It was just as sorrowful as her father's, and tight with anger. It's...not my decision. I'm sorry.
"Daddy," the she-cat repeated in a whisper, eyes wide. "Daddy, who --"
Patchstar didn't seem to hear her; he was intent on his ghosts, staring wildly at thin air. The voice, however, did, with startlement.
Starr --
Then it fell into sudden, distracted silence. I am, Redstar -- she shouldn't be able to hear me. I don't think she can you, else she'd have run in here sooner --
A pause. All right. If you think it'll help... Again, the anguish returned. Pat -- I'm so sorry -- I love you and it won't be long till you -- till I come back. Listen to your father, if -- if you love me.
"But --" Patchstar protested weakly, helplessly, and then broke down crying. Starredmyst could only stare at him -- and she jumped when the voice addressed her directly.
Starr. Choked-up though she was, the apparition sounded gentle. Almost -- loving. You've grown so. I shouldn't be so surprised that -- but -- I shouldn't say. It's not our place to interfere this directly. I love you --
A breeze blew through the den, brushing across Starr's cheek like a caress, and then the sense of presence was gone.
After a moment, Patchstar seemed to come to himself somewhat. The horrible sound of an old cat sobbing ceased, and he said, as if to himself, "Yes. I know. I'm -- going."
He pulled himself together and looked at Starr with a strange, half-weary, half-eager expression on his face. "I suppose I should go out there now, shouldn't I?" he asked her, and, still a little shell-shocked, she followed him to the den's exit.
"So what did I miss today?" the strange old tom asked with an alarming change of mood. Apparently he didn't realize how long he had been "sick."
Starr, herself, couldn't work up the words to explain what had just happened to her. All she could think was --
Darksong was...right.
