in case god doesn't show [alaine / open for skc]

tailscratch
one more night and one more time, thanks for the memories

Exhaustion was thrumming through Tailscratch's every pawstep. A cat who had no eaten in what felt like moons--even with his thick and ratted pelt his ribs were visible. He muttered to himself as he walked, ears twitching and flicking as though pestered by insects. Not an entirely unheard of scenario, Tailscratch's pelt was utterly crawling with fleas. He had to stop every few steps tow dig at his ears with a loud whining noise, and then he would resume on his way--ever muttering. Ever talking to himself, or perhaps the ghosts of his ancestors that he was convinced haunted his every step.

"The stars are full here, so you say? Hush! Quiet, you have the skies in their entirety. If only you'd stop bothering me you might find more room to put your paws," Tailscratch grumbled, snapping his teeth at the air next to his head before pausing. The cat's ears were perked forward, and his breath heaved into his chest in labored gasps. He was not an old cat, but he felt old. Like the moons had weighed down heavily on his paws. "Heh? What, do you fear this strange place?"

No answer seemed to come to the cat. He whimpered, pawing at his ears. "Hush now, you're all talking at once. I can never understand--your mumbly-humbly is too jumbly to make out. I suppose I'm mad."

He'd reached the edge of something. So far as Tailscratch could tell, there were many edges to many things in the world. It was made up of boundaries and borders and lines to be crossed. There were edges in life that one could not see or scent either. Edges that cats tumbled off of, down, down, deep into darkness that ate them alive. Like Mirmir. Yes, she had been eaten by a darkness.

Oh but hadn't he too? Hadn't the temptation of leadership, of importance, caused him to lead them their deaths--no! No no! He didn't want to think about it. Didn't like the idea of their starry pelts pressing in on him, closer and closer until he choked and smothered on their souls. They'd dig their claws into his heart and burrow deep inside like parasites. Infection of guilt, festering and foul. He swiped his tongue through his mouth, certain he could taste it--where had he been?

Oh yes, edges.

Tailscratch was standing near the edge of a territory. The scent of it was strong here--cat smell. Not since he'd left the city on the Queen's orders had Tailscratch sniffed another cat. Nor seen, unless you counted the tricks his mind played on him--unless you counted the ghosts that haunted his every dream. No, no he had not seen a living cat. He missed the company and scent of others. The brushing of pelts against his own, the soft purrs and comradeship.

"Wait here yes?" Tailscratch meowed, and his legs seemed to have simply given out on him entirely then. The large tom collapsed in a heap of filthy fur and limbs, and there he rested at the very edge of SkyClan territory--not that he knew of the Clans in as many words. No he could only sniff that there was many a cat scent, and that they were all similar. A whole gaggle, a crowd of cats to be seen surely. Exhaustion caused the cat to shudder, and he could smell blood from his cracked and travel-worn pawpads. His head slumped onto his forepaws, and he lay very still. It may have seemed that he was dead, but he was muttering to himself quietly. Speaking in such a low register it was impossible to quite make out, but definitely speaking.

And there Tailscratch waited.

notes: oof tailscratch is in rough shape. he hasn't eaten in a while or seen anyone, so this stinky dirty cat is just kind of lying next to the border waiting for someone to come along and see him.
wc: 622