A sliver of moon vanishing beneath the thick black clouds. A sightless night. The feeling of loss, loneness, and lust at once. He yowled and trashed, struggling to throw off the dark thoughts beginning to enclose his mind and howled as their claws tightened in his brain.
A streak of silver, a flash of claws, and the darkness is gone. His mind is his own, looking up, his vision is fuzzy, and all her can see are two golden eyes.
Crowfeather woke with a start, breaking into a cold sweat, and scrambled out of the den surrounded by bushes and out of the WindClan camp. He climbed above it, looking down at where the other cats were sleeping, and collapsed.
It had been three sunrises since he and Leafpool had tried to leave the Clan, but Leafpool had returned to ThunderClan and he back to WindClan. Now his dreams are haunted again, haunted by those two golden eyes which he knows now did not belong to Leafpool. He trembled, his body was hot but he felt so cold. Who was it that walked in his dreams?
"Crowfeather?" A sleek black she-cat hurried over to him, eyes filled with concern. It was Nightcloud, his childhood friend, who had always been there for him, who was there for him now, and had accepted him back into WindClan with an open heart. Nightcloud, who Crowfeather had told that night he loved.
"Nightcloud?" he whispered, looking over to her, blue eyes half-closed in exhaustion, "I'm fine." He sighed, pushing himself to his paws and shaking his pelt, "I mean, I'll survive."
"Crowfeather, you told me that you loved me," whispered Nightcloud quietly, moving to his side and pressing her pelt against his tightly, "But Crowfeather, your dreams are still darkened. Do you still dream of the ones you loved?"
"Of course," murmured Crowfeather, "I loved them."
"Feathertail was beautiful, and Leafpool was perfect," murmured Nightcloud, "I'm… I'll fight, I'm not the type to stay back and not defend myself. I have my personality; I'm not placid or easy-going. I… I'm not beautiful, Crowfeather, and I'm not perfect. Why'd… why'd you choose me?"
Crowfeather smiled softly, pressing his muzzle into her neck, "If I wanted bewitching beauty, I had it," he whispered into her ear, "If I wanted perfection, I had it." He licked the side of her neck gently, "But I don't have them any more. I don't have just one. I have both now. Nightcloud, I have you now."
Nightcloud flushed, leaning towards Crowfeather, "Thank you, Crowfeather." Crowfeather smiled quietly.
"I love you," she murmured, closing her eyes, her beautiful golden eyes. Crowfeather felt a warmth bloom in his chest, and he licked her forehead gently.
"So do I," he murmured, he had finally found her, the one who walked in his dreams.
