i've got a tight grip on reality, deertail

utter darkness, entirely void of any gleam whatsoever. he was laying beside someone, no, between two very warm bodies. everything smelled familiar here, but it was dark, and it bothered him not to be able to smell, or see. all of his senses felt muffled, as though all input was being poured into a great cloud, a torrent of sensory input reduced to a mere drizzle of noise, barely registered for king. king? that was his name. what a strange sound, but he had grown to like the way his mother said it. it occurred to him that he could smell adria, so the two bodies must be his siblings. he sank blissfully into sleep, a kitten with no concerns.

hot, bright, blinding light, obscuring and consuming everything. king tried to blink away the sunbeams with no luck. the golden daystar was turned on full power. yet for all that he couldn't see beyond the massive wall of light, he could feel a gentle rustling of wind, pleasantly warm as it tugged at his tabby fur. the playful zephyr smelled of spring grass and rainwater, pure and clean. still more, the gray tom could hear birdsong, undisturbed by fear of predators, though he saw no birds.

finding he could do little else, king tentatively padded forward, and the light seemed to embrace him. he wondered if this was how it would be to walk through a cloud, seemingly so fluffy and welcoming. it wrapped him in its warmth and it was as though he could feel the white-hot light burning within him, penetrating his fur, his skin, his bones, blazing from the inside out. king felt alight, but it wasn't terrifying, as a feeling of being on fire should be. he glanced at his paws and saw no flames licking at them, so it seemed safe enough.

as he proceeded, the light thinned out to reveal a forest not unlike his home, but he was certain the place he denned now had never been so pleasant and peaceful. not with the clan cats crashing around all the time, trying to chase him off what was not even rightfully their territory by their own rules. besides all that, light seemed to stream in from every possible angle, as though everything glowed of its own natural accordance. he saw the birds he'd heard earlier now, flitting about the upper branches of the trees. yet rather than being normal sparrows or tiny birds black of feather, they were all ashen and seemed as luminescent as everything else. he wondered if they would taste differently from normal birds- it seemed moons since he'd eaten, but he was no warrior of squirrelclan to go climbing so high.

it was pleasant here, and he thought he could stay forever, but king began to wonder. "am i dead?" he whispered aloud, hearing his voice fade into the placid light of the surrounding woods. there was no answer, though the birds continued their playful chittering and flitting about. the light that seemed to shine from within him had been nice at first, but now he did feel as though overcome by fire, and wished only to find a shady spot to lay down. he was so, so drained. king suddenly felt he couldn't walk another step with the heat inside of him. he lay down on the soft grass, resplendent in its broad spectrum of greens, affected by the light that shone from every direction. his eyes slid closed and again darkness engulfed.

king felt he was still laying in the same place, but now he must have been in a desert for there was sand beneath him and the fire raged on. at this rate, my brains must be completely cooked. he opened his eyes and everything was bleary, he felt empty and he parted his jaws, dry tongue lolling out behind a prominent front fang. he was certainly dead, but he had expected death to be a bit colder, rather than an absolute inferno. something came toward him, silent, gliding. the eyes he saw held a shimmer of fire like that which consumed him, though still he could see no flames. as the creature came closer, he saw that it was a cat, tall and otherworldly as all else in this hellish dreamscape. moments later, king took in the wings that were spread delicately, arching from shoulder blade to just above eartips. they were as pallid as the birds he'd seen earlier, though it seemed a lifetime ago now. "what's this...?" the rogue mumbled, voice cracked and hoarse from several days without water. "an.... angel?" he squinted, as though trying to see through the dense white mist again.