Blindsided. [VA]

[Rose]

A Larkfire & Prince VA.

Bright, alert amber hues trailed over the moonlit forest floor, taking in the amount of fog that'd rolled in during the night. Larkfire knew not what she was doing out here in the middle of ShadowClan's forest. . . Until she did. Oh. Yes, she knew this place. Her heartrate kicked up from it's sluggishly lazy pace to a quiet trot, legs feeling like jelly for a moment as she approached a familiar, sprawling oak tree.

Beside the large-limbed tree stood a familiar figure in the fog, one that Larkfire had been expecting. "Prince." She breathed, the word uncharacteristically soft, and her lover turned around with a smile that was only meant for her. A quick, impatient stride, and the muscular norwegian forest cat was at her side within moments, his olive green eyes pinning her to the spot.

"I have to tell you something." She admitted after a moment. Something burned at the back of her mind, trying to beat it's wings and pull free. But try as she might, Lark couldn't pick out exactly what she was trying to tell her lover.

"Scratch." Prince whispered the term of endearment with reverence, ducking his head to greet her with a gentle nuzzle. The nickname's source spiraled way back, to when Larkfire - then, Lark - and Prince had met for the first time and gotten into a quite fierce tussle over a scrap of food. Turned out, neither of them had eaten it in the end, as a crow had stolen it right from under their noses. Either way, Larkfire would never trade anything for the friendship and so much more she'd gained that day, so many moons ago.

Prince's forehead pressed against hers, his shoulders hunched so he could lower his limbs to her height. Green eyes glowed with affection, watching her in silence. Affection... affection... That was such a strange word. What did affection really feel like? For some reason, Larkfire's mind was fogging strangely. She felt adrift, like there was a haze of clouds directly in front of her eyes.

There was something... something... Larkfire had to tell him something. It nagged her, flitting like a butterfly at the back of her mind. But every time she reached out for it, the thought flew out of reach. She needed to tell him something, but what was it?

As if the brown-furred, fluffy tom across from her had read her mind, he pressed his nose to hers and prodded her shoulder gently as he pulled back. "You had to tell me something, love?" He asked, wrapping his limbs around her and pulling her to the ground and allowing her to snuggle contentedly into his excess of fluffy fur.

Larkfire narrowed her eyes with concentration at the question, amber gaze flitting to the sky and searching for the moon behind all this fog. "Yes... I... It was..." Frowning, the molly shook her head vigorously. "It was something important. I just can't... I can't remember..." A frustrated growl built in her throat as the words continued to evade her. With an irritated growl, Larkfire rolled over, mouth already open to address her lover. "Prin-" She stopped midway through, freezing with bewilderment when she realized there was no one beside her.

"Prince?" She asked, voice laced with concern as she scrambled to her paws. The ground where she stood was still warm, but the tom she sought was nowhere in sight. Her heart ached with a strange sense of loss, and that ever-present nagging at the back of her mind only grew more insistent as the moments ticked by.

"Olive?" This call - the use of his nickname - was louder, and so was her heart. It was pounding with a fresh round of grief, as if she'd lost or misplaced something. "Ollie, come back." Even though she'd meant the words to be an irritated snap, they came out a broken whisper.

What had she done wrong this time? What had she... the foggy world around her was swimming. Swimming... swimming... Larkfire knew how to swim... She'd even taught some apprentices to swim. Apprentice? What was an apprentice? Larkfire... No, that wasn't right. Her name wasn't Larkfire. It was... was... A whispered sound flickered against her confused mind, carrying with it a surge of affection. Scratch, her name was Scratch. No... That was wrong... her name wasn't Scratch.

Suddenly, she had the overwhelming feeling that she'd lost something. What had she lost? What had-

Reality came with a surge of awareness, and Larkfire sat up in her nest with an audible gasp, choking slightly on her own spit as her lungs heaved with ragged breaths. The dim, dark walls of ShadowClan's warrior den came into view, and Larkfire had to wait a few moments to let her breathing and nightvision adjust. The familiar, unpleasant feeling in her stomach stirred once again, but Lark ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut as she took in reality. She was awake. Awake. Already, the dream was dimming from her mind, evaporating as the last wisps of the real world trickled into her heightened senses.