SpiderThorn blinked at the sudden burst of words, surprised by how quickly Blackberrybat spoke. That was…alright. It may ease things a bit, yeah? As long as SpiderThorn could keep up that was. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly, his awkwardness fading slightly as he watched the tom's…energy? Yeah…energy. "Oh, uh, no need to apologize. I was just looking for someone to talk to." He gave a sheepish smile, shifting on his paws a bit. Many questions to answer, huh?. "I’m good, just trying to... meet new cats. Not exactly my expertise, but, uh... well, here we are." the warrior mused lightly, flicking his tail behind him.

He paused for a moment, considering Blackberrybat’s offer. Well…what was there consider? It was what he sought after all. "I’d appreciate some company, actually!” SpiderThorn added with a flick of his tail, relaxing a little more. He tried to sound more chipper, maybe match the cats mood and energy. "I haven’t really had a chance to chat with many warriors yet. Just been... caught up with other things." His voice trailed off for a second, before he quickly added, "It’s nice to meet you though, Blackberrybat." Was this really all he could think of saying? He couldn’t rely on the cat that he approached to carry the whole conversation. So…what to do now? How was ma always a good conversationist. Couldn’t he take after her on that? A shame really. “You uhm- anything interesting pop up recently?” he wanted to facepalm himself horribly bad. Goodness…


@Dolomedes

DarkPaw sat alone under the cover of trees, his gaze drifting aimlessly over the dark forest. The moon barely peeked through the branches, its pale light not enough to fully cut through the shadows. He’d wandered far from camp again, his paws moving without thinking. It was the quiet that pulled him away, the silence that felt like a relief from everything that crowded his mind. The forest was still, except for the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of an owl. Even the air felt different tonight—heavy, like something was about to change. DarkPaw couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before something broke, before he would have to face whatever it was he was running from. But what was he running from? His own thoughts? The constant weight on his chest, the feeling that everyone expected so much more from him? Or maybe it was just the fear of what would happen if they saw him for what he truly was.

A mess.

A failure.

DarkPaw’s tail twitched nervously. He always tried so hard to be normal, to fit in with everyone else. He never let them see how much he doubted himself. Never let them see how broken he felt inside. The others seemed so confident—so sure of themselves. But he couldn’t ever seem to shake the nagging feeling that he was different. That something about him wasn’t right. The guilt ate at him, gnawing at his insides. He still remembered his mother’s face, her cruel words echoing in his mind. She had always been so sure of her power over him, so certain that he was weak and incapable. He had lived so long under her control, her judgment, and now, even after her death, it was like she was still there. Watching him. Disapproving. He couldn’t escape that weight, not even in the quiet of the forest.

His paws flexed in the dirt, as if trying to ground himself in something solid. But there was nothing. Not really. Everything felt fragile. He had so many unanswered questions, things that had never been said. Was it too late to change? Was there any way he could stop the spiral of self-doubt that consumed him?

His thoughts twisted back to his role in the clan, the expectations placed on him by others. It didn’t help that he had always been told that he was supposed to be strong, to be capable. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had never been given the space to be weak, to make mistakes. And now, every time he failed, it felt like it was all he would ever be—failure after failure, a constant reminder that he wasn’t good enough. He closed his eyes, his chest tightening. The air around him felt too thick, the silence too loud. The night was supposed to be calming, but it only made him more aware of how alone he felt. The longer he stayed out here, the more he felt like he was falling into something deep and dark—like he could never climb back out. He wanted to cry. But he wouldn’t. He didn’t deserve to. Cats like him didn’t get to show weakness. The clan would see him for what he really was—a broken, worthless apprentice. He was too far gone. His thoughts circled over and over, the same spiral, the same self-hate, and every time he tried to pull himself out of it, it only tightened its grip on him.

With a sigh, DarkPaw opened his eyes again, staring up at the night sky. The stars seemed so far away, so indifferent. They were the same stars that had watched over him since he was a kit. And yet, they felt so much farther now, like he wasn’t worthy of their light. Even the moon seemed out of reach. He had never felt so small. His shoulders hunched in on themselves, a tight knot in his chest. He had never felt more like a disappointment. It wasn’t just his mother’s ghost that haunted him; it was the weight of his own expectations, the pressure to be something he wasn’t, to meet standards he could never achieve. It was suffocating. What if it was easier to just stop trying? To let go and let everything fall apart? The thought flashed through his mind, unexpected but insistent. Maybe it would be better. Maybe everything would stop hurting if he just… stopped. But he wasn’t sure if he had the courage for that. Would it be better, though? Would anyone even care?

But no, that wasn’t right. DarkPaw didn’t want to believe that. He couldn’t. His paws shuffled uncomfortably, and he pushed the thought away, knowing it was just a momentary lapse, a weakness that would pass. Still, the thought lingered at the edge of his mind, like an ugly shadow he couldn’t fully escape. Opening his eyes, DarkPaw glanced down at the ground, his thoughts spiraling yet again. What was he doing? Why did he feel like this? Was it just him? Or was it something in the way he was built, something he couldn’t escape no matter how hard he tried? The noise of his own thoughts was deafening. It was the quietest moments that were the hardest. When he was alone with his mind, with all the doubts that crowded his head. He was so tired of it. Tired of pretending to be okay when he wasn’t. Tired of fighting an invisible battle that no one could see.

With a shaky breath, DarkPaw pushed himself to his paws. The camp was still waiting, its warmth and light calling to him, even if he didn’t want to go back. But he had no choice. He would have to slip back into his role, back into the cat everyone expected him to be. He didn’t know how long he could keep this up, but there was no other option. The clan depended on him. He couldn’t afford to break.

Not yet.