and who is good will soon be beautiful || priv darkflame

Tansypaw wakes in the night.

A bad dream. As soon as her eyes open, the last vestiges of it leave her mind, leaving only the impression of having been falling and the glint of yellowed teeth under moonglow. Tansypaw wants- she wants to be comforted. She wants to crawl back into the nursery, where the world looks a little more familiar. The apprentices' den is full of long shadows, faint under the pale light of the moon, that stretch and contort. The air is filled with the soft breaths of her clanmates, and suddenly, even that is far too much for Tansypaw to bear.

She pads out of the den in a hurry and is greeted by the cool night air. At such a late time, camp isn't nearly as barren as Tansypaw would have thought it to be. A warrior is sitting vigil near the entrance, his back to Tansypaw as he surveys the expanse of territory he can see from where he sits. A couple lay curled together, a whispered conversation exchanged from the point where their cheeks are pressed together. An elder is playing some kind of solitary game, matching bits of tree bark to discarded leaves of the same species.

Camp is quieter than Tansypaw is used to, but it is always alive. She takes a small comfort in knowing this, and considers going back into the apprentices' den. A fear still lingers, however. Of what, Tansypaw is beyond remembering, but the uneven shadows inside of the den make her more nervous than she cares to admit. She walks to the warriors' den and slips inside.

Darkflame.

Tansypaw spots her with ease, and some of the tension she had carried in her shoulders eases. Her mentor. Trustworthy. Tansypaw has only been an apprentice for three, now four, days, but already she fears she is a poor student. Too frightened of the world to be shown the territory in anything other than parts, over-eager and prone to mistakes in her duties. What if Darkflame grew angry with Tansypaw for coming into this den? She looks over her shoulder, nervous that someone will come barging in to tell Tansypaw off. When no such thing happens, Tansypaw steps a further into the den.

Darkflame wouldn't be mad, Tansypaw hopes, and she hopes fervently. Quietly, she always hopes. Tansypaw hesitates a moment, kneading the nest beneath her paws, then in a moment of bravery, walks two tight circles and lays against Darkflame, feeling a little safer. In her dream, there is a teasing, tittering bird in the tree-tops, singing a familiar song.