tw// mentions of past abuse and ptsd as well as death

breath shaking his whiskers as he laid curled up in his bed, soundless whimpers leaving the tom as he laid under old blankets, his face hidden from view by the blanket over his head, limbs thrashing as his dreams continued to turn darker and darker. he couldn't run from the nightmares, these were impossible to outrun, not even staying awake for a long time helped, it only made it ten times as worse. the nightmares were a twist of reality from the past and a horrendously creative mind coming together to torture him.

in the dreams, he was running from figures of his past, heart hammering a mile a minute as a dark shape of a kitsune chased after him and the two young kits he carried by their scruffs in his mouth. each step in the dream was agonized, ghost pain from injuries and wounds long healed as he fled from what chased him. stumbling, the tom would gasp for breath, losing his grip on the kittens and struggling to grasp them and run again before the beast was upon them and his only option was to cover them with his body. right as the beast came down with the might of a thousand suns, the dream changed and he was in a different time, in a better time. he was curled up against a warm and strong body, the calming scent of his husband soothing the confused panic in his mind before he lifted his head. cold fear washed down his spine as an anguished scream left him, closing his eyes and placing his face into his paws, body shaking even in the dreams. it couldn't be this again. he refused to see him die once more before him!

startling awake with a sob, face soaked by tears he'd shed through the dreams, chest heaving as he dug his claws into the blankets he hid under, shaking like a leaf. sobbing uncontrollably for a while, unaware of the blood orchid blooming so powerfully upon his pelt, the scent of the flowers nearly overwhelming the scent of terror that clung to his fur. finally, when struggling to breathe between sobs became too great an issue, he tucked his body on himself, trembling all over as he tried to calm the sharp agony in his heart that wormed it's way through him. he needed a drink, but he couldn't stop shaking and crying.

it was hard to figure out how to control his legs that were sore from their thrashing, exhaustion filling every pore in the grim as he staggered to his paws some time later, blindly searching around his nest for his mask. pulling it over to himself, he would dig out his veil from wherever it had come off in his rest, covering his scarred muzzle with it and sliding the mask over his face. pushing to unsteady paws, he limped from his nest, letting the blankets fall from his frame, the only though repeating itself in his mind was that he needed a drink desperately. sleep was not going to happen again so easily, and he needed something to distract his mind. limping from his house quietly with one glance inside, wondering how the kid he'd rescued was sleeping before shaking his head and stepping onto his porch, staring up at the slowly lightening sky with a troubled expression, fending off another sob as he caught the faintest of the scent of his long-deceased beloved. sitting on the porch to catch his breath, adjusting the mask so it wouldn't rub on any scars.

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looking up as a voice bore it's way through his deafened ears, tired eyes peering at jingyi from behind the mask and veil, blinking softly as he comprehended his words. "Rough night?" came the voice, worming through the whispers of the dead, of the words that remained of his former captor, and those of his husband. tears slowly rolled down his face again under the veil as he nodded, shivers taking his frame. stepping across the porch that was attached to his home, sadness filling his weary body as he dug under the rocking chair for his notebook. pulling it forth, he hesitated as he ran his paw over the cover of it, shaking his head side to side in an effort to free himself from the agony.

picking it up in his jaws, he limped over towards jingyi, judging the stairs of his home with some hesitant contemplation. huffing, he began the limp down the stairs, afraid of missing one or all. exhaling, he made his way down with some feeling, not trusting the strength of his body to do so reliably. setting the notebook down, he would pull the pencil from it's spine and flip it open, scrawling with some effort, "Drinks?", gesturing his head in the direction of the tavern that the Tanglers usually swarmed in and out of, at least, the adults did. it was what he needed, the ghosts too loud in his head, that perhaps, the sound of the tavern and the press of bodies of his groupmates would settle his nerves. he knew that there were herb concoctions out there that would help him to fall asleep and stay asleep, but perhaps, he felt the exhaustion was a fitting punishment for all of his failures to his family and groups.