His pelt felt like plaster when he woke up.

He jolted awake, eyes immediately flickering open as he swept his dark gray eyes around. His gaze caught on Pantherleap and Adderheart quickly inched away from the tawny tom. He, asleep, shifted momentarily, his muzzle dropping as if he were to say something, though only a soft murmur came out, and no words were recognizable.

Adderheart licked his paw and anxiously drew it over his ear. Everything was going crazy. Pantherleap was... he... The tom shook his head fiercely, flattening his ears as he looked around the den. He stood and it felt as though his very bones were creaking. He shook out his pale creamy fur and carefully picked his way to the exit of the den.

He slipped past a small darkened patch of dirt upon the ground and he shivered. It had to have been Brindlebreeze. The senior warrior continued along until he exited and came upon a dark and starry night.

Generally, he'd not expected it to be nighttime. He had thought it was going to be dawn, but he supposed that sometimes injuries messed up his sleeping times. It wasn't the dead of night, but it wasn't nearly dawn, either. He gazed around the camp, noting that the shadows jumped around as he padded forward. The tom swerved and headed for the fresh-kill pile.

However, he pulled himself to a sharp stop.

There were only two pieces of prey in the pile and both were mice. One had tawny-ish fur and a strong figure, and the other had a pale creamish-brown pelt on its slim and sleek figure. The creamy one was facing away from the tawny one, but its little paws were twisted as if it wanted to go back. The tawny mouse was unnaturally elongated, but it was clearly split between being alone or being with the cream one.

As he approached, the cream one's eyes seemed to spark at him. There seemed to be fury within the mouse's black, beady depths, and he leveled its stare. His lip curled absently but he turned back to the tawny one, noting that it had twisted further away from the pale one now that he had arrived. He glanced to his paws and found them to be a different color — tawny. They were broad and tawny... and there was blood spattered on it.

He blinked fiercely and everything faded away. As he looked around, the stars seemed to gleam brighter than ever. The senior warrior hurriedly plucked both pieces of prey and quickly padded back into the healer's den. The moon within the dark and mystical sky of the night stared down at him as he slipped away into the shadows once more, and the stars twinkled politely as they studied his actions.

Adderheart didn't want to think about it. There had been meaning behind that. There had to have been, right? Cats just don't have random patches of where their fur turns color. He looked down to his paw. It was normal once more, taking its usual pale creamy-brown tone, and it wasn't as broad or as hefty as it had once been. And, obviously, it was no longer bloodied.

Suppressing a shiver, the pale-furred tom wove carefully through the healer's den. He wasn't about to wake up anyone else sleeping within the den because he'd been startled about some weird prey issue. After managing to locate his and Pantherleap's location, the tom quietly padded in. He ensured his pawsteps were soft and gentle against the ground.

However, the tawny warrior woke anyway. His head perked up, ears twitching and head tipping as he looked to Adderheart. His eyes sparked momentarily at the prey that dangled from his jaws and then the senior warrior shifted, seeming to press a paw down onto the ground. He swallowed noticeably and then waved his tail in a hello.

"Hi," Adderheart whispered, laying one of the mice down in front of the tawny-furred tom. "Nice to see you awake."

"...right. Thanks."

He took a bite of it, chewing. Pantherleap said nothing else, instead tipped his head down as if to avoid him. Adderheart's ears twitched nervously though he settled down nearby, wrapping his tail tightly around his figure. He felt drowsy in the warmth of the den. As he took a bite of the mouse beneath him, he realized that was only further going to fuel his exhaustion.

Settling his chin upon his paws, he let his figure relax. The soft, comforting warmth of the healer's den surrounded him like a blanket would a child. Adderheart took another bite of the mouse and gently let his tail curl further around him, but more in a relaxed manner. He smiled momentarily to himself before a question split the softness of the air.

"What're you smiling at?" Pantherleap asked, lightly nudging Adderheart with a paw.

"The prey," he lied, and as soon as it slipped off his tongue he regretted it. "It's nice. It's not too fresh but it's nice."

"Oh."

An awkward silence settled upon the heated air within the den and Adderheart shifted uncomfortably. Pantherleap lifted a paw and absently drew it over his ear, a small flickering noise filling the air as the leader's brother did the action repeatedly. Adderheart's dark gray gaze darted to his paws to a random place within the den.

"How're your injuries?" Pantherleap prompted softly.

"I'm not sure... they're a little numb. How are yours?" Adderheart answered, returning the question as he looked tentatively back to Pantherleap.

"The same," he replied with his tail flickering absently around his paws.

Adderheart didn't like it. He didn't like the weird tension hanging on a thin, wobbly, twisted wire within the thick and hot air. It was as though they both were walking upon broken pebbles noticeable to the other, but not moveable. The only way it could be moved was if the walker moved them. But in order for that to happen, the other had to move one first.

It created a cycle of which neither could escape, and so Adderheart figured that they'd just be struggling together forever. He took another tentative bite of his mouse and chewed it slowly, swallowing soon after. Shifting absently, he curled his tail around him, and the soft warmth of the moments before returned with a pleasant wave.

He decided that he couldn't let the situation continue as it had been, so he rose carefully and re-settled himself down next to Pantherleap. The tawny tom looked at him with mild curiosity, but he shifted to lay against Adderheart.

A small smile crept onto his features, though it soon faded as he rested back into Pantherleap's large yet lean form. The bigger warrior let his tail curl lightly around Adderheart's, who felt an absent shiver trace his spine with a sharp claw. This felt wrong, but it also felt right. It felt like he was in the right place within the world, but he also felt like he couldn't be more off-course. His skin crawled, and he couldn't help but think of the large tawny paw.

He suddenly felt small and tiny nearby to the strong tom's presence. It wasn't a bad feeling, rather one that allowed for more of a strong-weak relationship. But he wasn't necessarily weak, just not as strong as Pantherleap. The stable warrior seemed to look down at Adderheart, a small and uncertain smile rising on his features.

Adderheart pasted the same one upon his own features as he looked up at Pantherleap. Both toms seemed to shift, ears flickering back and forth. Pantherleap let his tail curl around Adderheart's, and he returned the motion, though a horrifying shiver ran down his spine once more. He kept his ears up but he couldn't stop the growing storm of anxiety within him.

Then, with a jump, the pale tom slipped from Pantherleap's grasp, trembling, and tumbled into his nest.

"Sorry," Adderheart whispered. "I... I can't."

Pantherleap stared at him for a moment or two, eyes flashing before they turned guarded. "W-wait, please, don't say—"

At the genuine fear within Pantherleap's voice, Adderheart suddenly realized something.

No. No. No. No.

No! Not allowed. Not allowed. Can't happen. Not true. 

Lies. Lies. Not true! Lies! Stop! No!

The string of words pushed at his muzzle but he kept it slammed shut, and Pantherleap's ears pinned to his skull as he noticed the poorly disguised terror in Adderheart's gray eyes.

"W-wait, Adderheart, please don't go—" Pantherleap's tone wobbled, but Adderheart quickly thrust himself to his paws, taking a few large bounds toward the exit of the den.

"Pl-please—!"

The voice faded away as he ran out of the den.

His pelt felt like plaster, still, and his legs felt as though someone had poured concrete all over them, still, but he kept on going. On the way out, he called to the healers that he'd be taking a walk. Had they heard him? He didn't know or care. His mind was too full of thoughts, thoughts that just skittered and jumped around within his head.

I'm pulling this again.

I'm doing it again.

I'm running from Pantherleap.

Again.

He pushed his way out of camp, and he thought he could actually still hear Pantherleap's voice bouncing around in his ears. It begged him not to do... something. It kept stopping. But it was getting louder. He continued on, quickly navigating his way out of camp, ears pinning to his skull tightly as he squinted at the light of the sun that let its tip break the horizon. It wasn't night anymore.

The calls continued to get louder, and he whipped around, lip curling. Shut up, you stupid brain, shut up, shut up, shut up—!

And there stood Pantherleap, struggling after him, calling out his name, ears flattened, eyes darkened and terrified, figure slack with fear, tail lashing anxiously.

The tom turned once more, hurried in fashion. He couldn't let Pantherleap catch up to him. It felt as though his chest suddenly had been constricted. By what? He didn't know, but it felt like something had grabbed his throat, shook it all up, then placed it back into his body. Then, it had taken his lungs, violently shook them, and then placed them back crookedly.

Everything felt wrong. Breathing was wrong. Pantherleap needed to get away otherwise he'd be wrong. As he ran, he checked behind him, and there was Pantherleap, struggling along. His voice was weak, terrified, trembling among the harsh breezes of a new leaf-bare. The tawny tom seemed to have been reduced to a horrified mess.

Adderheart whipped around once more and he continued along. He struggled to walk faster and faster. Several moments passed and he still struggled along. His paws stumbled across the ground. His mind whipped faster and faster than the wind gathering around him. Everything about this was wrong. Walking away from the cat who wanted to talk to him was wrong.

Walking away from the cat that he had chased for so long was wrong. Pantherleap was being wrong. The thoughts from before surfaced. About Pantherleap. About the elders. No. The word rung loudly within his crowded mind. He tried to drown the thoughts of the she-cats and the tom. He wanted to strangle the idea of the relationship between the elders.

That was wrong. By whose standards? Mine. The thought popped into his head and a spark of fear lit him like he was a small piece of flammable grass. Cougarstar's. The thought broke through the wall and he shoved it back. No. That wasn't true. His standards. It wasn't okay. He was bad for thinking that it had been forced upon him by someone else.

He was wrong.

However, he still continued along. It was a struggle to hurry himself up when he felt as though the eyes around him were closing in tighter and tighter. His pelt prickled as he passed another clearing of trees. And eventually, he seemed to slow. His hurried pawsteps began to trickle to a pause, and then another, and then more and more until he just stopped.

His eyes raked the clearing slowly as if he was dragging a million pieces of prey across the ground. Moving even the simplest of things like his gaze felt so incredibly difficult, and his eyelids fluttered, as if threatening to close immediately. He padded to a tree nearby, looking up into the branches that seemed to stretch forever.

The sun had rested delicately upon the horizon, spreading soft and shimmery rays through the branches. He briefly considered climbing but then the crushing reality of his injuries settled in once more. He probably couldn't climb. But I just ran forever. He turned around, looking around the clearing that he appeared to have slowed to.

It was a basic clearing, with trees rising tall into a color-splotched sky and rocks dotted around the ground. The ground was normal in shade. It was a dark greenish-brown, coated in a thick layer of pine needles. It was a usual sight for clearings within SageClan's territory, and Adderheart could faintly scent the usual smell of his Clanmates wreathing the area.

He looked back up to the tree, carefully approaching. His dark gray eyes sharpened, and he recalled previous times he'd been tree-climbing. Each time he'd either fallen or tripped so that his paw had gotten caught in an excruciating way. Perhaps it really wasn't a good idea to climb the tree, especially because of the injuries he already had.

Generally, running away had only been to escape the situation. His mind still roared with thoughts that had been thought to be long-banished, but his figure was no longer stiff. It had simply relaxed. Well, not necessarily relaxed, just... slumped. His shoulders had fallen, and his tail brushed absently against the ground. His paws were simply just there.

The tom carefully approached the tree, unsheathing his claws. They shone in the light that broke its way through the thickly-wound branches of the pine tree. He pressed a paw against the bark and then sunk his claws into its somewhat soft surface. It felt strange, as if he was breaking through a barrier that he'd never been able to see.

With a swift movement, he pulled himself upward, trying to haul himself onto a nearby branch. His figure felt as though it had grown a million pounds heavier, but the first branch was so close. It was right there! His dark gray eyes sparked and he attempted to keep going. His mind began to slowly scold him. Keep going. Go. Up. The tree, go up. Climb it. Keep going up the tree.

Though, he was unable to. His body was just too heavy for his injured figure to heave up upon the branches, and he was most certainly unable to push past the gathering of pine needles and branches. Usually, SageClan cats could simply push past the branches and escape with a few scratches, but as Adderheart attempted to do so, his pelt felt as though it was on fire with all the scratches littering his figure.

He soon realized that the scratches weren't hurting him; they'd hurt his already-injured figure. His focus slipped and with a hefty thump! the warrior collapsed to the ground. Instead of rising to his paws once more, he simply just shifted close to the base of the tree. He let his tail curl tightly around his figure and he shivered upon feeling a small trickle of crimson liquid surround his paw. He lifted it and sniffed the air — blood.

He slammed down the paw and then laid his head, in a slower and more miserable fashion, upon them. He didn't want to be around with the thoughts of Pantherleap running wild within his skull. It wasn't just about Pantherleap, though. The same thoughts from before he'd climbed the tree, rather attempted to, kept on bouncing around the interior of his skull with a deafening loudness.

You like toms.

Every time it would bubble up he shoved it down. It wasn't an uncommon thought for him, unfortunately, and every time, he pushed it down. It never broke the boundary, killed before it could even live for half a moment. However, it grew more and more prominent as the time with none other than Pantherleap grew. His ears flickered and pinned fiercely.

No, I don't.

He couldn't like toms. It wasn't a matter of wanting to or not; he just simply couldn't. He'd never liked a she-cat before in all of his sixty moons of being alive but that didn't mean he liked toms. He didn't like toms. Never had, never will. It was just a simple matter. He didn't like toms. He wasn't like the elders. He wasn't going to be like the elders.

Yes, I do.