Her gaze scrolled to the entrance of the den, dawn creeping over the horizon. She switched her attention over to her mentor, the she - cat seemingly deep in her slumber. Speckledpaw slowly, but surely fell back into her own reality, recollecting herself with a sharp breath. But still, the tension in her muscles remained. The hotness in her body still overwhelmed her, sending uncontrolled shivers through her. She couldn't tell why she kept getting carried away like that so much lately. Her nightmares were reoccurring. It was a big part of her training being able to depict what's real and what isn't. So why has it been so hard to hold onto as of late? What was wrong with her? In the back of her mind, she heard her conscious knocking. In a way, it sort of sounded like Nightgloom.

'Calm down, dumbass. It's not real. Distract yourself. It always helps.'

Instinctively, her eyes settled onto the two feathers she had laid out before her. It was a habit to remove her feathers before she slept at night. It probably wasn't a wise decision considering how important they were supposed to be to her specifically. An ironic decision in a way. It just made her a lot more comfortable to have them off.

The Duck Feather. The feather she had received upon joining the Clan along with her siblings. She always did like the color. She recalled a naive, curious young she - cat who had no idea what it meant. Too blissfully oblivious to the real world. All she cared about was being the fastest tree climber and surpassing her siblings in her training. She cared so much about impressing and winning the praise of her first mentor, Creekleap. She would've pushed as hard as she could to become the greatest Arborist of AriaClan. By now, she had memorized the purpose and deeper meaning of every single feather. Hers represented perseverance. Being able to hold her own no matter how difficult the situation was. Her inner peace, interior gentleness, her spirit devoid of conflict. She was self-composed, capable, and sensible. It was fitting. Being the mature one was a job that she had to take into her paws when caring for her littermates and even her elder brother at times during her adolescence. She was a perfect definition of her assigned feather. Or. . . Perhaps she once was. Now, she didn't know how to describe herself.

The feline pawed the feather laid under the Duck Feather, a luster of light that shone through the small cracks of the den wall lightening the dark feather. Her Raven Feather, the her proud symbol of being a Shaman. When she closed her eyes, she could still remember the intense barrage of emotions the sudden appointment of the position. Sometimes to this day she still wondered if she was right for the position. Recently, she felt that all of it was really just a big mistake. Tigergale assured her that StarClan picked her. But it didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. But remembering that day also helped her realize how proud her family was of her. How much she had been through and learned and withstood during the Bobcat incident. The jumble of thoughts brought her the slightest bit of calming tranquility, her breathing now becoming stable. It was in those thoughts that another one arose.

What if she just left?

There wasn't much else keeping her tied down. Sure, she had her position. She was basically the half - Shaman and Medicine Cat all in one. But Tigergale always seemed to have everything under control. Sometimes, she felt that she wasn't even needed at all. The Clan wouldn't notice she was gone. It would be nothing more than a minor inconvenience. After all, her last remaining brother gave less than a damn about sticking around for her. So determined to find someone that she knew wasn't around anymore. Because what good did blood do if it was completely overlooked? Absolutely nothing.

Speckledpaw took a breath, realizing how spiteful her thoughts grew. No, it wasn't about Nightgloom. Her gaze shifted onto Tigergale, still fast asleep. She knew that her mentor would miss her. And Goldendusk, a close friend that she had grown to develop deep faith in to stick around and remain something familiar when nothing else would. He would most likely notice. As she listed the reasons in her head, the list ended. There was really nothing else keeping her here. Dragging her paw lightly under the bedding, she slowly slid out a small, wilted flower. The petal's color was faded, a couple of ripped edges visible in each one. It was something that she kept hidden, safe under her nest so she could access it whenever she needed. It was the last she had of her closest friend, Deerdapple. Sometimes at night when her nightmares grew traumatic, she pulled it out from under her and rested her maw against it. Although the smell wasn't very pleasant, it brought her the peace that nothing else could. In a way, it was almost like Deer was there next to her.

But she wasn't. She left without a single word. Now all she remains is a memory, a pleasant dream of the past. Occasionally a nightmare, but it didn't come close to the happy dreams she had of her friend. Thinking about it, perhaps they were the only happy dreams she has had in a very long time. In her mind, her thoughts played again.

'Maybe she isn't just a memory. Maybe she's still out there.'

Agitated, Speckledpaw shook away the thought. No. It was impossible.

'If you left, maybe you could find her.'

The older Apprentice remained awake for the sunrise, hearing the sound of rustling in the nest next to her once the sun rose. Speckledpaw pretended to be asleep, eyelids shut until the scent of the other cat faded and she fully confirmed that Tigergale had left the den. Opening one eye, Speckledpaw rolled over, scurrying over to the herb storage. She sorted through it, scavenging out Chamomile flowers. They were strong traveling herbs that without a second thought, the she - cat consumed. Maybe it was a little bit more than the usual, but the herb has other effects too. It was a bit of a drug in a way, meant to soothe the mind and strengthen the heart. She needed that.

After placing on her feathers and giving herself a quick groom, she left the den, not without a glance at her neat bedding before padding out into the camp.