Chapter Text
His senses are assaulted immediately. His ears swivel left and right, restless as the soft hairs lining their insides register the cacophony of sound pouring through like an unstoppable river.
The air smells positively acrid, a horrible mixture of scents he can't even begin to untangle. His nose wrinkles and twitches but the smells remain stubbornly imprinted. With a pounding headache, a reverberation of the abuse of his senses, he barely even registers the wetness weighing down his pelt.
All around him, he feels a deluge of information, undecipherable in his state of sudden wakefulness. His mind lags behind as his body begins reacting to the overload of stimuli. The fur across the length of his body, from head to tail and down to his ankles, rises to a panicked, prickled bristle and he folds into himself, shrinking and curling like the limbs of a dying spider.
It's so loud.
His eardrums ring painfully and he flattens his ears, flexing his claws on instinct. But below his paws the ground is not soft, and they tense as they hit solid stone. He groans and recoils, paws coming up to cover his ears instead.
He is confused and in pain, the pressure building up inside his head making him think it will explode from the stress alone. He feels like it's becoming difficult to breathe, each inhale coming up with less and less air.
He can't do this.
It's too much.
He passes out before he can ask any questions, let alone obtain any answers.
After what could have been days or moons, he wakes up again to what feels like the longest nap of his life, except that he feels so incredibly exhausted and disoriented that he wishes he could just faint once more. It would certainly be less painful than having to hear and smell everything so vividly.
Being blind has never bothered him so much as the feeling of inadequacy and helplessness when encountering certain challenging situations. Being perceived as less capable than his peers when he can very well do many of the same things as them is frustrating. Back when Firestar assigned Brightheart as his mentor, he had felt insulted by the obvious coddling they had tried to impose on him.
In place of his sight, his other senses have improved to accommodate and compensate. Apart from Dovewing and her gifted hearing, Jayfeather is probably the most attuned to sound (and smell) in the four clans. Usually, this is helpful, and he often finds himself feeling proud of his talents. But being overly sensitive to certain stimuli also has its drawbacks: mainly, it physically hurts when something is too strong.
He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here, but everything around him smells and sounds and feels like too much and it takes precedence in his list of priorities.
His breathing is fast-paced, and it only gets faster the more he thinks about it.
Stop – You've got to stop.
He can't freak out. He can't lose control again.
He wills his body to slow down – to take each breath more slowly than the last.
In….and out. In…and out. It's a mantra he clings to; a basic set of instructions to follow.
And at last, his body listens: instead of spiraling into another sensory explosion, his senses begin to adjust to the new environment. His hearing becomes less expansive, his nose tries to concentrate solely on his own scent, and little by little it all blurs into a hazy fog beyond his immediate attention. It's just enough for him to get a hold of himself, but even though everything feels duller now, it is just as intense; his headache continues to pulse relentlessly.
Slowly, his mind goes back to being functional and he takes in a deep breath, steadying himself.
Okay. First things first: where am I?
He rises up and wobbles a bit as he gets used to balancing again. Water droplets are trickling down his pelt and he forces himself not to immediately panic. His belly fur and paws are soaked but the ground beneath his paws is rough and hot; similar to the rocks and stones that line the rivers back home. He's not in immediate danger – it's not a body of water; just a small puddle.
But something about the ground feels unnatural. There is something wrong with it, and it’s not just that it hurts a bit to stand atop its intense heat.
His stumbling movements alert him of one additional thing, however, and his attention is turned toward himself. He doesn't know how he missed it at all before, but there is something encircling his neck and it makes his skin crawl and his ears flatten down.
What is this?
He brings his right paw up to his neck and nudges it around. It's loose enough to be comfortable, but tight enough that he'll have trouble trying to remove it.
It's disconcerting, but he can worry about that later.
He is weary as he takes a tentative step forward. With his senses all but useless he can't rely on smell to guide his way. He can walk the entire length of ThunderClan territory with a fair amount of confidence, and he can journey all the way to the clan gatherings and moonstone meetings with minimal assistance, but here he is truly and completely blind. It seems the only senses he can rely on anymore are taste and touch, but he doesn't know how taste would be of any use in this situation. So instead, he proceeds cautiously, slowly moving forward one step at a time and mapping out his immediate vicinity.
He's about to take one step further when the circle around his neck tightens and pulls him back. He lets out a small cough and realizes there is something attached to it and pulling taut. He can feel it tense and soften as he tries out different angles of movement, but it seems to be embedded in something.
He moves forward again, ignoring the strain on his neck, and pushes away from the invisible anchor, trying to assess how deeply lodged this thing is. He is rewarded when the additional force drags the anchor enough for him to advance a little.
Bracing himself, he leaps forward in one brisk movement, hoping that whatever it is will dislodge with enough force, but the cord keeps hold and he chokes on it. He lets out a groan when he hits the ground awkwardly and painfully.
Then, from the other end of the space he hears a rumbling growl mix in with the cloud of sounds.
"What the-?" a voice remarks quietly and it's almost lost in the midst of all the background noise, but Jayfeather manages to recognize the voice in an instant. His fur bristles automatically and he doesn't know whether to feel relieved, laugh, or scream. It's nice to know he's not in this strange place alone, but out of all the cats he could have ended up with, why did it have to be him?
"Breezepelt?" he asks incredulously.
He hasn't forgotten what the WindClan cat did – or tried to do – to him and his siblings. Even after a majority of the Dark Forest trainees were pardoned and allowed to return to their clans, resentment lingered among their clanmates. But Jayfeather's qualms with Breezepelt run on a more personal level. Things tend to get tense when you are forced to see your would-be murderer on a semi-regular basis.
Jayfeather tries to take a step toward Breezepelt, gauging the distance between them, but immediately halts when he hears the other turn around and growl at him. It seems he has finally realized he isn’t here alone.
"You,” Breezepelt spits out. His claws scrape the ground as he unsheathes and flexes them. “What happened? Where am I?”
The WindClan cat’s tone is hostile, but Jayfeather can sense an underlying wave of unease and panic coming from him. A trained warrior he may be, but suddenly waking up to an unfamiliar setting can frighten even the fiercest of warriors. Jayfeather tries not to think about how he himself had pathetically fainted within heartbeats of waking up.
When he doesn’t answer immediately, the other continues with a snarl, “Hey, rabbit-brain! What did you do?"
Jayfeather grits his teeth in exasperation, already wishing he was eaten by a fox rather than having to deal with this asshole.
"What makes you think this was even my fault?! I just woke up!” He snaps.
Breezepelt hisses at him, as if he can scare the answers out of Jayfeather if he tries hard enough. But Jayfeather is as lost as he is, maybe even more so since he currently lacks a functioning sensory system. He scrunches his nose and lashes his tail in irritation, trying to dig his claws into the ground just to feel them sink into something other than the pelt of his (unwanted) companion, but the ground is hard under his paws, and he remembers his weariness and suspicion from earlier.
At first, he had assumed it was some sort of flat stone, like those he had encountered in the mountains, but it was incredibly level – unnaturally so.
He ignores Breezpelt’s furious accusations and insults as the other continues to shout in his face and he tries to dig through his memories in search of the answer he’s looking for. He'd only ever felt this type of ground a couple of times before: at the edge of ThunderClan territory and on his journey to the mountains.
The realization dawns on him and he feels a shiver race down his spine as he recognizes it for what it is: a Thunderpath.
Breezepelt is pacing somewhere in front of him and blabbering about something or the other when Jayfeather calls out his name once again.
"Breezepelt," Jayfeather interrupts. "Are we standing on a Thunderpath?"
He would honestly rather not talk to him at all, but as much as he would hate to admit it, a pair of eyes seemed like they would be a whole lot more useful than his over-exerted nose and ears.
Breezepelt halts his pacing. "Huh?" He meows flatly.
He seems taken aback enough for him to actually take Jayfeather‘s question seriously because he glances down at the ground and instinctually jumps away, the fur along his back spiking up quickly. The cord chaining them together gets pulled taut with the movement and Jayfeather is dragged forward as well, landing on his forelegs awkwardly once again.
“Dammit!” he growls in response. Jayfeather doesn’t have time for this. If his suspicions are correct, then they’re in danger as long as they remain in the path of Monsters. If it were up to him, he would gladly leave Breezepelt to panic in the middle of the path and get run over, but the chain linking them together literally binds him to the other. Where one goes, so does the other.
“Don’t move so quickly!” Jayfeather snaps as he stands up again.
Breezepelt seems to compose himself, no longer spooked or trying to yell Jayfeather down, and he moves forward in acquiescence to slacken the chain.
“It’s a Thunderpath…I think.” He finally meows.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Jayfeather can’t help but feel anxious being out in the open like this. He doesn’t sense any imminent fear coming from Breezepelt, which might mean they’re not in any danger at the moment, but having to rely on the other for any sort of useful information is beginning to grate on his nerves.
He doesn’t particularly trust Breezepelt, but it would be counterproductive and stupid for him to lie about their surroundings. Like it or not, the situation is looking like they will have to move around together, so unless he wants to halt every time Jayfeather slams into something unknowingly, it’s in his best interest to be as descriptive and helpful as possible.
Jayfeather feels bile rise up in his throat, aghast that not only will he have to let someone else guide him around like a lost kitten, but that he will also have to rely on the one cat he can safely say he hates to do it. He thought he had finally gotten past everyone around him treating him like he was weak, useless, or stupid, but he would bet Breezepelt would do exactly just that. Or at the very least, he would make it an insufferable experience.
Jayfeather begins to get impatient as his thoughts spiral into a string of rumination and he waits for the other to elaborate, but after a pause, Breezepelt continues.
“…The ground looks like the Thunderpath we saw on our way to the mountains, but there are strange cliffs surrounding us, kind of like an enclosure.” Breezepelt meows.
The black cat begins moving around the area, inspecting their surroundings with heightened attention. He doesn’t have a lot of range given the chain, so he walks in a circle around Jayfeather, letting the chain adjust on his neck whenever he moves.
“I think we’re in a twoleg place, but I don’t see any Monsters or twolegs nearby.”
Jayfeather feels a wave of relief wash over him and he asks, “Anything else?”
But Breezepelt seems to have gone back to his normal, short-tempered self. “I’m not your personal tour guide!”
StarClan help him, this is going to be a day.
“In case you couldn’t tell, I can’t fucking see.” Jayfeather retorts, pausing before adding a little more quietly, “and everything smells and sounds like shit.”
“So?”
Jayfeather really can’t believe this guy.
“Look. You see this thing?” Jayfeather paws at his own collar. “As far as I can tell we’re stuck together for the time being. So unless you want to move at a snail’s pace or drag a dead body around, you might want to consider being helpful instead of annoying.”
Jayfeather wonders if maybe Breezepelt hates him enough to want to kill him and deal with the body later rather than work together with him. By this point, he really wouldn’t be surprised, but maybe he shouldn’t have voiced the option.
“Fine.” He hears Breezepelt finally growl out as if it pains him to concede. “What is this thing, anyway?”
Jayfeather rolls his eyes in response and replies, “Why are you asking me? I’m in the exact same position as you.”
He really would love to know whose idea it was to chain them together like this. He can’t imagine anything other than absolute catastrophe could come out of this arrangement.
“It’s just my luck I would be stuck with the most useless cat.” Breezepelt meows bitterly.
Jayfeather bites back his indignation and anger out of sheer impatience to learn more about his surroundings.
“Breezepelt. What else is there?”
The black cat opens his mouth, about to start up another argument and waste more of their time, but then he seems to hesitate and think better of it.
“There’s a couple of green boulders next to us, and the Thunderpath makes a sharp turn up ahead, but I can’t see anything past that.”
Breezepelt begins padding to what Jayfeather can only assume is the turn of the Thunderpath he just described, and the chain gets pulled until it’s straight between them. There is a tug from the other end and in response, Jayfeather cautiously pads a couple of steps toward where he can sense Breezepelt. The black tom guides them further into the unknown.
They walk slowly and cautiously until they are a couple of fox-lengths from where they started. Jayfeather notices the amount of sound increasing the more they walk. He still hasn’t gotten completely used to the storm of noise and scents, but he feels frustrated at how little he can actually perceive in his current condition. It feels like a smack to the face to find out there’s been such a big commotion so close to them this entire time and he’s only now realized it.
Not too far ahead, a roar of sound emerges and Breezepelt slows down. If Jayfeather had to guess, he would assume the other cat is peering around the curve.
“Fuck.”
“What is it?” Jayfeather asks wearily.
“There’s twolegs everywhere. And monsters too. This is definitely a twoleg place.”
Jayfeather can feel the fear begin to come out of Breezepelt in steady waves and he wills his tail not to fluff up in response. Freaking out will get them nowhere. They can’t afford to lose focus in such dangerous territory.
“Can you see the way back to the lake?”
Jayfeather isn’t expecting a good answer, but he would rather cover all his bases before he dismisses the option. Breezepelt lets out a low laugh, though Jayfeather can’t see the humor of this situation.
“Not at all. The twoleg nests are blocking my view.” He hesitates before he takes a couple of steps forward.
“What are you doing?” Jayfeather can’t help but meow out in a panic and plant his paws firmly on the ground.
He can feel the contempt drip out of Breezepelt’s voice as he goes to mock him.
“Scared, kittypet?” There’s a smirk spreading across his muzzle. “We have to get closer so I can get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
Jayfeather is scared, as Breezepelt should be, but he refuses to give him the satisfaction of knowing.
“As if!” He growls. “But the twolegs might see us if we get too close.”
“Not if we stick to the shadows,” Breezepelt meows and starts leading them to the right until a wall stands next to their flanks.
Jayfeather tries to be as quiet as possible and he shrinks to himself as he follows the tug of the chain forward. He can hear the roars and screeches of monsters dominating over the subtler sound of twolegs talking and walking fox-lengths from where they crouch. It’s as if he’s willingly walking into the jaws of a waiting badger. Every step feels like a bad fucking idea.
Breezepelt halts and Jayfeather almost crashes into him.
“It’s useless,” he meows in frustration. “These giant twoleg dens are blocking everything!”
The two of them lay crouching on the ground, belly fur dragging on the warm ground as they contemplate their options. Both of them want to return home and get this awful chain off their necks, but the more time they spend in this twoleg place the more their prospects grow grim. It’s not so much a question of when they will get home, but rather if they will ever get home.
“What if we went higher? Would you be able to see more then?” Jayfeather inputs. He doesn’t know how high they will have to climb to get a good view of their surroundings. He doesn’t even know if the lake is anywhere near this place, but he’s not about to give up.
“It’s worth a try,” Breezepelt accedes.
There are no trees in sight and the walls surrounding them are steep and without any good grips. They also have to take the chain into account as they try to devise a plan for getting to higher ground, but eventually, they find a series of uniform steps closer to where they had first woken up. Breezepelt confirms that they should take them all the way to the top of the wall surrounding them, so they start their ascent.
Jayfeather takes a hesitant step forward. It’s incredibly difficult to navigate his way around here without the aid of his senses or memory to tell him where everything is. He feels around with his paw until he finds the edge of the step and hops up cautiously.
“Will you get a move on? I’d like to get out of this place before sundown.”
Jayfeather lets out a quiet growl, annoyed that he has to prowl around clueless in front of someone else. He can’t show Breezepelt any weakness. He won’t allow himself to.
He lets his whiskers and paws guide his way to the next step. They’re steep and he has to practically leap from one to the next. He can’t see how far down the ground is, but there is a sense of vertigo pulling at his gut. The higher they go, the more the feeling increases.
When they finally reach the summit, the air has cooled and there are winds blowing through the fur in their pelts.
Breezepelt walks toward the ledge and gazes out.
“So?” Jayfeather prompts, impatient.
“So, I still can’t see too far. There are twoleg nests as high as mountains. Even the one we are standing on pales in comparison.”
“Maybe we could try going toward the setting sun. That’s how they found the lake during the Great Journey.” Jayfeather suggests.
“Sure, if we ever find the sun.” Breezepelt remarks dryly.
“What do you mean?”
“The clouds are covering the sun. Seems like StarClan isn’t very happy with us.” The joke falls flat in light of their circumstances.
Suddenly, Breezepelt’s stomach lets out a rumble and Jayfeather realizes that he doesn’t know how long it was since he last ate. He can’t remember anything before he woke up in this place. He doesn’t know if he was out gathering herbs or sleeping in the medicine cat den or doing something else entirely mundane. But with the feeling of hunger comes the realization that they will have to figure out how to find something to eat.
“I don’t think we can hunt here.” Breezepelt meows as if reading his thoughts. “Not to mention being attached to you is guaranteed to scare all the prey away.”
Jayfeather bristles. He doesn’t understand how Breezepelt can’t go more than two heartbeats without saying something offensive or irritating. He can already tell this will be the most difficult hurdle he’s ever had to live through, and the thought effectively drains all energy from his body. Why is it always him that ends up in these sorts of situations?
Jayfeather lets out a sigh and meows, “Well, we have to start somewhere. Come on. Maybe we can find something back on the ground.”
After some scavenging inside the disgusting green boulders, they do manage to find random morsels that smell like food but taste nothing like how food should taste.
Night has fallen by the time they manage to convince themselves to suck up their pride and ignore their aversion enough to eat what they can. They have no idea when they will find their next meal, and though Jayfeather won’t admit it out loud, Breezepelt was right about hunting. But even if they weren’t so inconveniently attached, he has to wonder if any prey would even dare scramble so close to the noisy twolegs.
Things aren’t looking good, but Jayfeather has a suspicion that they have been placed here for a reason. It’s got to be StarClan going about their infuriating destiny-fulfilling ways, and he intends to find out tonight as soon as he manages to sleep. He’s got some angry questions and he won’t leave voluntarily until he gets some answers.
As the night grows cooler, they settle down to rest as far away from the main Thunderpath as they can. The ground is far from comfortable, and though it’s no longer burning intensely, it feels horribly hard and rough. It goes without saying that they part from each other as much as the chain will permit them. Neither of them wants to be anywhere near the other more than they already have to be.
Jayfeather’s senses are improving the longer he is exposed to all the commotion, but he still finds it difficult to fall asleep after he closes his eyes. Thankfully, Breezepelt doesn’t say a word after they settle down and before long, Jayfeather sleeps.
He knows he’s dreaming the moment he feels the lush grass underneath his paws. The rich lands of StarClan sprawl in front of him, trees with a full mane of leaves and thickets bursting with flowers. Looking at the evergreen forest lights a feeling of longing inside of him and he lashes his tail in irritation. Why can’t StarClan ever bother someone else? Jayfeather has done more than enough for the sake of the clans. He’s pretty sure he deserves a long vacation by this point.
“Jayfeather.”
He turns around toward the sound of the voice. As expected, there’s a StarClan cat waiting for him. He wishes they could have done this part before they threw him into the middle of chaos without a clue as to what was happening.
“Yellowfang. Care to explain?” He meows mutinously and his eyes narrow.
“Don’t get smart with me, kit.” Yellowfang rumbles.
It’s been a while since someone’s called him a kit, but Yellowfang has no qualms about being condescending with him.
“What’s the deal this time? Do I have to find some rare herb that only grows in twoleg places? Or will the entire forest burst into flames if I don’t break my back trying to save the clans?” The sarcasm is dripping from his voice. He can tell that Yellowfang is growing annoyed, but he presses forward. “Any particular reason I’m chained to the asshole cat who wants to kill me?”
“That right there is the crux of the problem” Yellowfang meows, exasperated.
Jayfeather doesn’t think she has any right to feel that way when it’s him that’s stuck in an unpleasant situation, talking to an unpleasant cat.
“What do you mean?”
“This familial feud has got to stop. What’s done is done, but neither of you seems to be able to see past that and grow up.”
“How does that have anything to do with StarClan? Last time I checked, you all don’t get involved with anything as trivial as personal dilemmas!” Anger is beginning to bubble up inside of him and it slips into his tone as he questions StarClan’s philosophy and actions. He can’t believe he has to go through all of this again.
“StarClan watches over all the clan cats equally. And right now, the two of you are upsetting the delicate balance of peace among the clans.” Yellowfang meows seriously.
“Us? You must be joking. I wasn’t the one that tried to murder several cats because I was feeling upset! Maybe you should have gone yell at Breezepelt instead of wasting your time with me when I’m not the problem.”
Yellowfang’s patience seems to snap with his outburst, and she answers him with a rumbling growl. “This isn’t about whose fault it is, you ignorant kit! This is about learning to forgive and move on.” She takes a deep breath to compose herself before going on. “We’re taking matters into our own paws; you and Breezepelt must prove that you have the maturity to look beyond the past. If you want to return home, you are going to have to learn to work together and find your own way back.”
“What? But – “
“Take this seriously, Jayfeather. You won’t accomplish anything by fighting and complaining.”
As Yellowfang finishes up her ominous warning, the walls of his dream begin to crumble, and the forest slowly fades into darkness. Jayfeather is left growling at the void and wishing he could sink his claws on something.
He is so fucked.