The sky was empty-starless, clan was quiet. At night the tension seemed to ease, at night the briars and bushes were shadowed and looked like demons scratching outside the camp boundary.
It was peaceful to an extent, utterly silent aside from the small tell-tale signs of life or the snoring of the occasional cat.
The muted noise of a cat moving, the thump of a large tail idly twitching and the sudden blood curling scream that rocked down the halls before dying off as quickly as it had sounded.
Well, perhaps not as quiet as previously thought.
It's fine. Everything is fine.
He'd woken up in a cold sweat, a nightmare still clung to the edges of his mind but he couldn't recall what exactly it had been about. The tiny filaments left were flickering in his head, shattered images and sounds from what might have been previously forgotten memories. He tried to hold onto them but they slipped away as they always did and he was left grasping at nothingness.
Gildedheart heaved a sigh, pushing himself up off the mossy nest to sit up and glance around the dark den with no real intent in mind.
He was no longer progressing, he had stopped moving forward. Instead he fell back and kept falling into that same deep, dark pit he'd clawed his way out of prior. The hole had never closed, it's gaping maw kept calling him back and he ran but with each unsteady step forward he faltered. He faltered and he fell.
He was caught each time. Someone had pulled him back to his feet but that didn't stop him from slipping again each time.
The constant fear of an attack was always present, he loosely felt the chain on his neck in place, his body had been mangled and broken in so many ways already.
Even death was denied. Should he ever feel like giving up his escape route had been blocked off.
It was probably the reason why god had made it such. He wouldn't be permitted to just end it all.
Why.
Gildedheart stared down at his paws before him, the small and faint markings of scars barely visible in the dark den. He had many of them, all over him, some more prominent while others you couldn't see unless pointed out.
Hadn't he paid his dues to this world already? Hadn't he spilled enough blood, surrendered enough flesh?
He'd even given up part of his soul and still no relief. No reprieve. No moment of peace.
Each day was a new obstacle, a new battle, a new pain. Each night was a horrific retelling of the day, a taunting figment from the past to mock him with.
It was a test. A test he couldn't pass, couldn't win.
It was deliberately made to be impossible, to break him into pieces.
No.
No, he wouldn't let that happen.
Slowly slipping off the nest he found himself leaving the den.
Sleep wasn't happening though, he could rarely get back to sleep after most his nightmares.
Strolling forward he kept walking until his face was inches from the wall of the entrance
No. This won't end.
It would never end, but he would never just quit. He couldn't, even if he wanted to sometimes. He'd chosen this. God didn't choose it for him, he'd made the choice before that fake god had spewed out his own orders.
It's my choice. I won't back away from it.
He just needed to breath, just needed to hold it together. Gradually it'd get easier, soon he'd be able to stop his paranoia by finding the capability to defend. Soon. Just wait.
Gildedheart inhaled slowly and then swung a paw back and then suddenly forward to strike the wall with his claws, sparks glinting off the rock as they scraped past it.