'TIS BUT A SCRATCH / o, return

It wasn't any surprise that the poltergeist would turn up back in SunClan eventually. After all, it was difficult, no, impossible to kill something that had already been murdered centuries ago. His apparition would repair itself over time, he wasn't concerned about the multitude of wounds marring the illusion of dusky fur, oozing with his oily blood. The blood he had originally lied about as if he were tied to SunClan's own dynasty of Arcaniums, yet Beck was simply Beck, a demonic entity whose veins were drained upon death and replaced with a fluid mimicking the qualities of the life-sustaining liquid. The only problem was he couldn't replicate the iconic crimson hue signifying bleeding, while the Suga-spawn carried genetic toxins throughout their system. Even now, Beck's complexion beneath his freckled pelt was a pallid blue like that of a fresh corpse.

The journey retracing the stumbling steps back to safe territory hadn't been recorded in his concussed mind at all, his gaze blankly staring ahead of him as he followed the vague shapes assumed to be friendly creatures leading him. With every jolting movement came a sharp wave of pain, his mental nausea practically radiated off his stunned form, and it was hard not to notice the fact that his pupils commonly narrowed in doubt and distrust were dilated to the size of a full moon, despite Beck attemping to behave like he could properly understand his surroundings. Occasionally, a phantom shriek would pierce through his ears and mind, the same shrill scream Solveig forced into his consciousness to prevent escape, causing the boy to flinch and abruptly freeze, beginning to tremble with an increasing migraine before being prompted to keep moving. He didn't realize the transition from grits of bring sand into the oh-so familiar touch of moss and grass beneath his cold paws, but once honey-brown and glossy eyes passed over the dying winter grass, Beck slowed to a stop, staring down at the grass and soil and pebbles that had suddenly replaced scorching sand dunes. Giving a few confused blinks at first, the boy flopped onto the earth, planting a bruised chin onto the forest floor with a rattling sigh, slurring out a string of mumbled words and ignoring the rest of the raid walking on without him.

It was always a rather foolish idea to touch someone unaware of another's precense, especially one so conditioned to expect abuse along with physical contact. Upon an external force brushing against faintly stinging scratches curving across his shoulders and already present arrow wound that had killed him in the first place, the battered boy jolted back up, craning his neck backwards to recoil from Mary's touch, bloodless lips drawn back in a feral snarl of defense. Beck relaxed as a glint of recognition flashed in his hazed eyes upon fully seeing the fuzzy blob of a lioness, allowing himself to slouch once more, yet with his features visible and not bowed in fatigue, a blackened and swollen ring was clear around his right eye, deeply bruised as blood vessels had burst upon whatever had impacted. He didn't verbally protest as the lioness attempted to drape a blanket over him, but the poltergiest reached around and snagged the blanket's edge in his teeth, yanking it off so that it would fall in a heap to his bloodied side. His wounds had already clotted at least, congealed blood nearly as thick as molasses and just as dark. Although he didn't seem to care about the injuries, it didn't stop everyone else from fussing apparently. When had anybody cared? Either they were trying to earn brownie points for themselves, or SunClan wasn't a group of apathetic narcissists like BlizzardClan.

A gust of movement from above was enough reason to flinch and flatten himself back to the soft grass; he didn't recognize Thea, she and her brother and "brother" had hatched long after Beck's capture. He wouldn't of even known that Hexane had abducted a pair of eggs even before BloodClan dragged him away, much less that Hexane was truly responsible for Ska'arq disappearance. The only thing Beck had left of his close friend was his necklace, and he had let him down by allowing the precious jewelry to fall from his grasp as he was stolen away. Guilt weighed heavy on his concussed mind as he traced out the outline of a little dragoness, before chirped words met his ears. Beck parted his maw to speak, rasping voice sounding slurred and mumbled despite the poltergeist believing that he was perfectly understandable. "Well, duh, I -"

Name and business. It was supposed to be a question, yet the painfully familiar voice couldn't quite manage to lilt up a note, remaining flat and hollow as if it were a demand. Beck's eyes seemed to brighten at hearing that voice again, despite the lack of feeling behind the words. The poltergeist glanced beyond the blurred form of Thea to lock gazes with the crystal clear image of Ska'arq, cutting through the confusion and distorted shapes. A genuine smile of relief appeared on his youthful features at the sight of the dragon, not batting an eyelid at his reduced size. Ska'arq had regressed into a smaller body before, maybe he just... spontaneously shrunk sometimes. Yeah, that sounded plausible considering Beck still had no clue how dragons functioned. His stub of a tail began to wag as he strained to lift himself up, the welcome sight of Ska'arq providing a brief moment of clarity through the concussion. "Haha, Squawk, that's funny," Beck gave a hoarse giggle that seemed to rattle in his narrow chest rather than properly spoken into the air, "I missed you, ya big goof, what happened?" Perhaps the boy's mind was still clouded by delirium, for the immediate thing he did after wheezing out his words to his friend, he stretched forward and planted a sloppy little kiss right on the dragon's snout. He lingered for a nonexistant heartbeat before falling back, distracted by the arrival of Hexane. Beck gave a morbid grin at his words, rasping out, "Double death? Been there, done that, it was fun." A tinge of sarcasm wormed into the last phrase, and although faintly, Beck could recall plenty events that forced his apparition to relapse into a catatonic state just to heal, although the most notable time wasn't when he had been dead at all - the poltergeist managed to revive himself for a brief frame of three weeks, before fate lead him to downing a glass of drain cleaner as an attempt at escaping the demonic deal from wearing off. Quite stupid, but it had worked on keeping himself existant - although Ska'arq had been the one to pull him back into the mortal realm. Fun times, indeed.

As the boy recoiled from the kiss influenced by delirium, he allowed his eyes to drift downwards out of fatigue until he noticed a key detail was off. Ska'arq's neck was bare. No lace, no vials. No emotions. Beck knew his friend, and even through a throbbing migraine, he knew that without the necklace, Ska'arq was nothing more than a machine, blank and numb. He had witnessed the cold, unfeeling creature the dragon truly was when he had stolen away the necklace out of childish spite. His dopey smile faltered as Ska'arq didn't react, but his hopes were shattered like a pane of glass punctured by an unforeseen bullet. His expression dropped into one of confusion, a tinge of hurt wrinkling his freckled cheeks. Beck always sought to mask away his thoughts, his vulnerabilities, yet his dead heart was stitched onto his sleeves for the entire world to judge and dissect. "What?" The single question was oh-so simple, but it was utterly broken, unsure if the dragon was being serious. His filmy gaze flicked back down to Ska'arq's neck, willing the vials to appear from thin air and not allow his friend leave him. Beck felt his habitual breathing hitch, "Squawk, it's me - don't, don'tcha remember me?" His rasping voice wavered as he held back a sob, unable to prevent the memories of loss flooding his senses as his focus turned to anyone else - Hexane. Hexane. The bastard who had tried to give him the wretched necklace in the mysterious absence of the dragon. Beck wouldn't forgive himself if he blamed Ska'arq - but the now-father figure? The poltergeist staggered to his full height, hackles rising as he snarled at the catsune with a venomous and accusing tone, "You." The dulled look of pain in his glare had been kindled into a seething flame burning in the hateful amber orbs. "What did you do to him?" What had Hexane done to the sole creature that had offered a shoulder to sob into, that willingly listened to Beck's rambling, that was always there to support him when the world was against him and all his mistakes? The friend he had shared his first kiss with, the friend that was willing to sacrifice himself just to keep Beck in the living realm, the friend he loved all too dearly.