.:DOW - Ruffled Feathers:.

When she opened her eyes, Hollowgaze’s nose was buried in her flank, tears making her fur knotted and damp. She adjusted her position, just enough to see over the top of his head and out the den’s entrance – was that Noisepaw standing there? – but the tom didn’t move. It was as if he hadn’t noticed her sudden movement, or had chosen to ignore it.

Hawkfeather grew wary of her old apprentice. He was acting strangely; since he had become her apprentice she had never seen him cry, and he was usually very alert of the smallest amount of movement from anycat. After all, Medicine Cats had to be aware that their patients were breathing, or having difficulties in sleeping.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Noisepaw leave the den. Before she had a chance to wonder what the Medicine Cat apprentice was doing, Hollowgaze whimpered something lightly.

“Haw… Hawkfeather…”

Her eyes widened curiously as she replied, “Hollowgaze? What’s wrong?”

She was greeted with silence.

The tortoiseshell’s head cocked to the side. Why on earth wasn’t he responding? He was a polite cat, one who respected others and was respected in return. She raised herself some more, a move in which once again did nothing.

“Hollowgaze,” she miaowed sternly, “I demand you explain what is going on.”

Once more, he said nothing.

Fed up with his kit-like behaviour, she stood and padded his chest lightly. Swearing at his lack of reaction, she turned to the entrance of the den to see Noisepaw returning, this time accompanied by Talonstar.

“Talonstar,” the elder began. “Please, explain why Hollowgaze is –”

The apprentice and leader rushed past her, not even acknowledging her presence. Hawkfeather turned to see them leaning over a body; one that looked strangely familiar. Had one of the elders gone to rest? Who was hurt, and why was such a kerfuffle –

Wait.

She was standing, and walking.

Something she hadn’t the ability to do since the Sharptooth attack.

It was then the realisation filled her, nostalgia washing over her shoulders and flowing down her back. She wasn’t dead, was she? She couldn’t be.

She was only asleep.

It was only a bad dream.

Several heads popped into the den as a wail split the air, cracking through the silence like a whip. She wanted to comfort their leader. She wanted to tell her that it was fine.

She wanted to show her friend that there was nothing wrong.

But how could she when she was now just a silhouette in the darkness, consisted only of stars and memories?