Fear of the Deep - Albatrossmoon SRP

Instructions

Tw: Implied 'death', grief, sad thoughts/imagery, etc. ----------------------------- He peered up, eyes wide and fearful, at a cool blue cat. His sister hid behind him as he hissed at the unfamiliar cat, swiping the tiniest little miniscule paws at her. Where was Mum? That wasn't Mum at all. The new cat blocked his attempts to fend her off and instead picked the little wriggling kit up, murmuring soft reassurances that he could barely make sense of. He squirmed and cried for a bit, but after a while his wriggling died down and he slumped down in her paws. She took his sister too and for some reason, they swam up. He looked down instead, watching the dark recede as they rose up from the trench. He screamed. The young cat, untarnished by claws and paws but marred by countless wounds to his heart, yelled into the abyss. Until he couldn’t anymore, vocals falling flat and body falling limp there. He wept, since there was nothing else he could do. Why did he always end up here? Albatrossmoon. He always ended up back where he'd started, as terrifying as it had always been. It was deep, dark, and a place where no one would ever, ever find him. They wouldn't see his hurt. Hurt that swelled like a balloon in his heart. They wouldn’t see his love either. He’d always loved. Even as a kit, broken and sad, he’d always loved everyone, including those who’d hurt him more than anyone else. It was really all he had to hope for and to care for. His love. The world was cruel and mean, but love had always made it better. Maybe that was always why he’d tried so hard to love, even if he’d rather scream. All he’d ever wanted was to make other cats happy, but he never seemed to be able to do that. Maybe for a short while, but then they’d be upset again. It was simply unfair. Then again, not everything could be fair. That was just how it was. All he could do was cry about it. The water stole his tears, swallowing them up and making them theirs. Greedy sea, hungry waves. The water tasted bitter in his mouth, filled with salt. It was cold and dim and heartless. Below him was ever darker. He remembered those dark waters as a young, young kit just barely. They had always been a comfort since then, simply because of familiarity. Why were they familiar? He’d never known. He’d never tried to look. Now, though, his paws lifted from the cold dirt. He descended. The warrior, wrapped in his sorrow and anguish, couldn’t bear himself. He needed that comfort, whatever it was down there. He had to hide. He needed to keep all of this to himself like he always had. The darkness blanketed him, swallowing up his light colored fur like a famished kracken. It hugged him close. And he didn’t swim back up. Somewhere far away, but at the same time not far away, hearts broke and tears fell, but the spirit of the dead warrior rested alone. The Stars were lies to his heavy heart. He lived on only in loving souls and in softly worded stories. ----------------------------- Or at least... that's how it seemed to have gone to him. Except Albie awoke, bi-colored eyes snapping open and a shriek yanking out of his gut. The back of his skull was pressed hard, bumpy rocks and gravel, the rest of him limp against the hard ground. He wasn't stuck at the bottom of a deep abyss, never to be seen again, but was simply surrounded by kelp, waving and wiggling around him. Some was even caught around his paws from there he lay. How had he even gotten out here? He didn't remember. His head hurt like it'd been rung like a bell. He took a while to sit up, trying to call the thought back into his mind and re-orient himself. He placed a paw on his face, pulling it back to notice the red fizzling out into the water. Oh. Now he felt the hurt on his face. He grimaced, putting a paw back over it, though it seemed to be a bit bigger than he could just put his paw over. Albie would never know how he'd gotten here or how that gash had made itself on his face. Honestly, he didn't even want to know. Soon after he'd leave that spot where he found himself after putting some kelp over the cut so he could get by for a bit. He'd head home and fall back into the normal loop of things, ignoring his weird dream. That's simply what it was. Albie had things to do, cats to help and please, flowers to put on graves, work to continue, loved ones to take care of and talk to. And so life moved on. Did he though?