—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦
That next day, following one that seemed to stretch on unreasonably slow, Merry felt... Strange. The majority of his rage had fizzled out, especially after the barrage of questioning from his clanmates and yet something remained. Claggy and heavy in his chest, it weighed him down even as he awoke, later than usual, too. The first beam of light was usually enough to stir him awake as it had for moons before, but that day the sun hung high in the air. Merrystalk's paws felt uncharacteristically heavy, exhaustion a dead weight on his shoulders. Dead weight...
He blinked hard. This awful feeling, he hated how it suffocated him. Merry knew it wasn't his fault, his outburst. It wasn't his fault so many cats witnessed him at a low point. But dear Starclan, the disapproving looks, the disappointment, and sorrow. They made it feel as if it was. It felt like no one stopped to even try and hear him out, seeing him only for the rage that seeped from him. Like it was a poison that drove his friends away from his side.
That was all except one. "I don't know why you carry so much anger in you, but there is no need to take it out on Merry, or anyone else for that matter." Merry's paws shuffled beneath him as he pushed himself from his nest; there was always one voice of reason he could seek. One he had looked to for many a moon now, his dearest companion and mate.
It took a little wandering through camp, there were certain glances shot his way, eyes on his pelt, he silently shrugged off. He knew it could be worse; if he had attacked Sass like he was winding up to, he might not have even been allowed back in camp. But eventually his gaze fell to that of Harefoot, and for the first time that day, a smile found Merrystalk's face. The tom wandered to the other's side, pressing an exhausted muzzle to his shoulder. For just a moment, he hesitated, words caught in his throat. Not quite sure what to say, so instead words tumbled from his mouth. "Can we take a walk..."
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✦—Windclan moor-runner | 26 Moons
✦—He/Him
✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
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