Batshit insane. Chirpbreeze was finally going batshit fucking insane. Everything around her felt like it was falling apart, and the responsibilities stacked so high that she thought they’d break her back. Too much noise, too many cats, too much to do.

That was why she was at her favorite spot by the river. The one where she always had her mental breakdowns when she really needed to have them. As far as she was aware, no other cats had ever set foot here, which meant that she had a nice, quiet place to lose her mind and cry as much as she wanted to before she had to go back home and pretend everything was fine. The dirt was already marked with her frustrated pawsteps, a few unfortunate saplings bearing the scars of her claws from previous visits. Here, she could bury her face into the moss, scream, and not worry about anyone hearing her.

Maybe she was overreacting, but after yesterday’s training mishap with Ravenpaw, Chirpbreeze would rather not show her face in Redwoodclan ever again. Yes, nobody had found out about what had happened, but somehow that only made the feeling worse. What if they did? What kind of failure would she be heralded as then? The calico warrior was certain that she didn’t really want to know.

Pulling her face from her paws, Chirpbreeze cast her eyes up to the canopy of trees above her. The sunlight that beamed down through the leaves seemed like it was mocking her, and she snarled at it in reply. How could anything look so damn cheerful when she was waking up every day and wondering why she still tried? Sinking her claws into the muddy riverbank, she turned to face the source of the light – coming between two trees to her left – and bristled as though she was squaring up for a fight with another cat. Drawing air into her lungs…

“FUCK YOU!” she roared as loudly as she could into the woods, her yowling shout echoing off the trees around her and startling a few birds into flight. “FUCK YOU!”

This was not the behavior expected of a cat like her, but Chirpbreeze was alone, and it felt good to get the anger out. She whirled around, slashing an unfortunate pine sapling of some variety with her claws before allowing herself to shriek again, this time an unbridled sound that lacked any words. If anyone heard her, they’d probably assume that she was either under attack or that the redwood forest was haunted by some kind of monster.

“FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!”

A twig snapped behind her.

Fearing a predator such as a fox or coyote, Chirpbreeze pivoted with what felt like record speed, claws outstretched to slash the flesh of whatever creature had found her. Yellow eyes met hers, accompanied by a startled shout when Lastlight sent himself tumbling backwards to avoid her wrath.

“Chirpbreeze!” he cried, putting a paw up in a gesture of surrender as he half-regained his footing. “Chirpbreeze, it’s just me!”

Emotions rushed over the molly like a torrent of rain. Someone had found her, vulnerable and stressed, and they’d snuck up on her in her very worst moment. It was nightmare fuel.

Calm down, Chirpbreeze. It’s just Lastlight. If anyone’s going to see you like this, it’s best that it’s him.

Lastlight. She knew Lastlight. She trusted Lastlight. “What are you doing here?” she breathed, trying to calm herself so it looked like she’d been up to nothing. This is so fucking embarassing.

Lastlight worried at his lower lip, flicking one ear. “I… uh… I was taking a walk when I heard you shouting. I got worried and came to investigate,” he replied rather awkwardly. His paws shuffled in the mud as he moved to sit down. One of his tells. He was definitely hiding something, just like her. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” Chirpbreeze replied with a rather forced scoff. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a little time to relax.”

Lastlight’s snout wrinkled in suspicion. “… You were yelling ‘fuck you’ at the top of your lungs.”

“There was a squirrel.”

It was the world’s shabbiest lie, but Lastlight sighed and dropped it, much to the calico’s relief. She looked around, then sat down as well, gazing into his eyes. Worried amber, just like always. They used to be so much brighter when they were kits, but… well, the pressure must’ve gotten to him, too. That was the curse of being an exemplary cat in Redwoodclan, it seemed. He tilted his head upwards for a moment, brown tabby fur accented by gold streaks when the light hit him just right. Chirpbreeze vividly remembered being an apprentice and watching him glow during the golden hour.

“Ahem…” she awkwardly cleared her throat, feeling not unlike a sheepish kit. “Uh… Thank you. For checking on me, I mean.”

Those brilliant eyes flicked back to her russet ones, accompanied by an awkward smile as the tom shifted once more. “It’s no problem, really. Just doing what I hope anyone else would do for me.”

The kind of silence seen in a stage production when both people forget their lines loomed over them like a hawk.

---

She looks like she’s trying not to lose her mind, Lastlight observed to himself in the silence, sitting by the little clone of himself he had in his head that he liked to talk to. Wow. I didn’t realize things were getting that bad…

He should’ve been there for her, he figured. Should’ve been around more often, should’ve bothered to reach out more often after they both became warriors. To cats, one whole moon apart could feel almost like years, especially when both of them were still so young. He should’ve tried harder, and he hated that he hadn’t. Hated that he couldn’t. He still felt like his own demons were looming directly over his shoulder so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to other cats anymore. Even though he’d escaped the situation that had left all those scars on his psyche, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d only get hurt if he let anyone in.

It was almost refreshing to be in Chirpbreeze’s company, actually. In spite of all the guilt he felt for not being there for her sooner, and in spite of the fact that she was obviously coming apart at the seams no matter what lie she told him, Lastlight felt more comfortable around her than he had in… actually, he didn’t know how long. A long time. That was all he knew, and he was more than content to sit in the awkward silence with his old friend and not think about it any further.

“… You won’t tell anyone about this place, right? It’s kind of the only place I can go to catch my breath these days.”

He glanced over at Chirpbreeze as she broke the silence, her brows furrowed in obvious concern. Those deep russet eyes were dark with a sense of troubled exhaustion. “No,” he murmured in reply without hesitation. “I understand. Everyone needs to have their secrets.”

Like him.

Lastlight had so many secrets in his life that he felt like he was almost drowning in them. The things he kept hidden felt like a pile of stones, and one wrong move would send the whole structure crashing down on top of his head. He choked on them while they suffocated him, and in turn, shame infected his whole being and filled his lungs. Secrets. That was all anything was anymore.

Stiffly, Chirpbreeze cleared her throat. “Have you heard anything from the rest of the group?” she asked softly, finally sitting down and folding herself into a loaf shape. Swiftly, Lastlight tucked his paws in and followed suit.

“Not really. I’ve been pretty solitary since we all graduated. I think Rainfall’s doing well, at least. I’m not sure about your sister, though.”

The calico nodded at the tabby’s words. “Corvidhop is probably fine. I’ve seen her around, so she’s at least alive.”

Lastlight couldn’t help but snort at that. “Alive is better than nothing,” he agreed, stretching one paw out to bat at a fallen leaf, which he began to fidget with. “I just wish we all talked more, like old times.”

“I guess sometimes cats just… outgrow each other, in a way.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Have you grown into anyone else?”

The tom shook his head at his old friend’s question. “No, not really. How about you?”

“I haven’t, either. Unless my little sister counts, but I don’t think siblings grow into or out of each other. They just… are.”

I wonder if she outgrew me, Lastlight whispered to the soundless companion in his mind. I know it’d be weird to ask, but I really hope she hasn’t. I still need someone, and so does she.

He turned to make eye contact with Chirpbreeze, catching her peripheral vision as she swiveled from watching the water. “You’re still my friend, you know. If you need anyone to talk to, I’ll try to be there.”

“You’re still my friend, too.”

He wanted to say more – wanted to tell her that he’d missed her – but the words weren’t forming correctly in his head. Instead, he just gave her a small smile and furrowed his brow slightly in what he hoped was a sweetly earnest expression. For the first time in a while, he felt his eyes glinting with a little bit of warmth, which he swore he saw reflected back at him in hers when her own snout broke into a tiny grin.

“We should do this more often. Come here and talk. Just… get away from all the stress, y’know?” Chirpbreeze hummed after a second, taking the time to glance up at the canopy above them. “It’d be nice to have a place to rest from time to time.”

Lastlight nodded his agreement. “It would,” he said, relaxing into the way the sunlight warmed his fur. “We could meet up and talk about whatever we need to. Vent or take our minds off things.”

“How so?”

“Well… I dunno. What’s the weirdest bug you’ve ever seen?”

The world seemed to close in lovingly around the pair of friends, swiftly finding themselves engaged in unexpectedly carefree conversation. Something about a huge moth, another tangent about what worms might taste like, and a ranking of each cat’s top five favorite prey. On some level, Lastlight knew time was passing, but it didn’t matter.

For once, everything felt okay.