Faustian | warrior cats

i | nighttime chaos

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LARKMOON was the warrior who died too young. And StarClan never felt like home. She wasn't familiar with the loneliness of death. How it crept and crawled into her veins like spreading moss. Death was torture. It was lonely and cold. Larkmoon could still feel the dirt she was buried under. She shivered at the thought of it.

Even the land of the dead seemed to be fully alive. A gust of freezing wind bellowed among the empty hillsides. It wavered the grasses, slowing frosting the edges of the earth. The crisscrossing strands tickled her paws, sprouting flashbacks in her mind. The orange she-cat tried to hide her claws under the earth's surface, wanting to know what it felt like to be alive again. Cicadas chirped their nightly chorus, their songs spread out amongst the twisted branches of the trees. Their cacophony annoyed Larkmoon but at least they gave her company.

A sudden rustling of grasses swayed her attention. She could sense a light presence sneaking up on her. Larmoon's ears pricked; she knew exactly who it was. Speaking of company. "Beetleleap," She summoned in a monotone voice.

"Fox~dung!" A squeaky voice cursed behind the feline. A purplish-brown coat slithered beside Larkmoon. "How did you hear me? I was so quiet!"

Larkmoon scoffed, "Not quiet enough." The ginger she-cat didn't spare a glance towards her friend. She continued gazing off into the distance, ignoring Beetleleap's presence beside her.

Beetleleap sat down in the grass with a large thump. He rolled to his side, stroking his tongue through his mangled fur. Beetleleap was a disproportionate tom. He had the largest feet Larkmoon had ever seen. He was constantly tripping over himself, it was no wonder why he didn't survive very long in WindClan. But given his odd appearance, his chest contained one of the kindest hearts. Larkmoon would never admit out loud, but she thought Beetleleap was a good friend.

"What are you doing?" He glanced up again, his dashing green eyes sparkled in the midnight atmosphere like two stars. Larkmoon didn't respond, however, her silence gave him all the answers. Beetleleap sighed heavily, "Let me guess, you're dreaming of living again."

Larkmoon's nose twitched in repugnance. This tom was the reason for her headaches. She reflected his remark, "Beetleleap, when will you learn to keep your nose out of my life?" Her sharp words didn't seem to strike the tom.

Instead, he laughed, "Ha! When will you learn to accept the fact that you're dead?" He spoke too fast. The realization hit him after it was too late to hold his tongue.

Larkmoon's hazel eyes filled with tears yet she didn't dare let one spill over. She turned her head away, transparent with pain. She ran her claws through the grass, trying to take her mind off of what Beetleleap just said. It didn't work. His words kept repeating themselves over and over inside her mind. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead.

Beetleleap buried his head in his paws, "Larkmoon, I'm so sorry. I-"

"It's fine."

Suddenly, Larkmoon was on her paws. She twisted around, the stripes on her back forming into a spiral as she moved. Larkmoon began to elegantly tear down the hillside, her ginger coat slicing through the waving grasses. She broke out into a swift run, slowly disappearing with each step she took.

Beetleleap's wide eyes watched her in confusion. "Where are you going?" He was given no response. He too, jumped to his large paws. "Wait!" He shouted and hurried after his friend.

Larkmoon carried on through the StarClan undergrowth. She expected the vines and thorns to pierce into her pelt before being granted with the realization that nothing was alive. The breeze brushed back her fur while her paws moved much faster than they normally would. As Larkmoon continued, she was swarmed in a fury of light. The stars blurred in her vision and bathed her ginger fur in a million constellations.

She kept running.

Beetleleap lost Larkmoon from sight. But he continued to chase after her. Beetleleap would follow Larkmoon through hell if he had to. He panted heavily, feeling the temperature rise to his whiskers. The purplish-brown feline regretted his words more than anything in this moment. Nothing broke his heart more than seeing his friends hurt.

Beetleleap's worries vanished when he saw a flick of a ginger tail. He slithered through the undergrowth, walking further and further into a watering hole. The tom slowed once he saw Larkmoon perching beside the water.

The universe stretched onwards above the two cats. It seemed to expand on and on forever; what an endless empire. There was not a sight such as this one; who knew chaos could be so beautiful? The sky's dark colors were amorously entwined together and an abundance of stars were freckled among them. The feeling was everlasting: Beetleleap appreciated nothing but.

Larkmoon sat neatly before the pond, inches away from the edge. Her tail curled around her paws while she bent her posture to peer into the reflection. The water seemed so tranquil, not a single disruption tempted it. Larkmoon wondered whether she would ever find such peace. Every day was like suffocating in a black hole; her only wish was to breathe again.

"Larkmoon," Beetleleap's sorrowed hush intercepted. "I'm sorry."

"I said it's fine." The ginger she-cat repeated herself softly.

Beetleleap exhaled an exhausted breath. He didn't speak any further, rather he wanted to persist in painful silence. But there was still noise: the heavy beat of his heart, the whispering wind, the rustle of leaves; it surrounded the tom.

"I have a scar that hasn't healed." Larkmoon finally ended the silence. She spoke up for once, instead of piling all her emotions into bottles. Despite this, the she-cat's darkly colored eyes didn't lift from the pond.

It was a surprising thing to hear, Beetleleap conceived. Larkmoon never talked to him. "What do you mean?"

Larkmoon's eyes plunged into Beetleleap's green ones. They held each other in a strong trance, each trying to depict the other's perceptions. "When cats are brought into StarClan, they are healed of all their pain. It's supposed to disappear." Her voice was choked with emotion. "But I'm still hurting."

Beetleleap's features raised, "I wish I could do something to help-"

"Do you remember your death?" Larkmoon boldly asked. So undaunted, Beetleleap could feel his chest rise with warmth.

He stumbled, "Uh- yeah, why?"

"I don't remember mine." The tabby confessed, her head drooping towards the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, lines emerging from her face as she tried hard to recall the past. As every time before, she saw nothing. "I at least expected to have flashbacks. But I don't see anything."

The tom laughed awkwardly, "Why are you telling me all of this?" Beetleleap knew something had to be wrong if Larkmoon was opening up to him. She never let anyone inside her head.

"Beetleleap," Larkmoon's ghostly voice summoned gooseflesh to bump up on the tom's skin. He watched as her brown eyes darkened, watched as shadows danced within them. Her chaos looked beautiful. Something wasn't right. It was never right! Beetleleap felt trapped. As if Larkmoon had dragged him down here to kill him. There was no way out, he was already dead! A freezing gust of wind then howled to the moon. He awoke from his nightmare. And that's when Larkmoon chose to speak: the truth twisting off her tongue like poison.

"I'm supposed to be alive." 

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