The wind sounded like a whistle to Sir Ratty. It blew his silky, brown patches of fur in different directions and gave him a certain sense of freedom. He closed his eyes and imagined her next to him, Thistle, holding his hand and making his worries melt away into pure nothingness. But she was gone now, probably crying in her bedroom after the fight Ratty had overheard happening upstairs happening between her father, the rat king, and herself.
Ratty sighed before leaning on a hedge in the garden, his head suddenly throbbing. He put a paw to his head and coughed. What was happening? Why was he feeling this way? Ratty leveled himself down to the ground and dug his paws into the ground, a sudden wave of nausea running through his veins and suddenly, he spewed.
He wiped his mouth weakly with the back of his paw and tilted his head slightly. Different thoughts ran through his head as he sat next to the repulsive vomit, not caring to shuffle away from it. His mind ran laps as he thought over it. Did the rat king do something to his drink? Was it because of Thistle? Did the wind pass off some kind of germ or disease? Ratty coughed again in thought and leaned his head against the hedge behind him.
He closed his eyes and let his breathing slow down. He tried to clear his mind and whistled in time with the mind, slow, steady and quietly. He listened to different sounds around him as well as the wind, such as the rustling of the leaves of the plants that surrounded him and the soft moans of the tree bark giving way for different insects. He then let himself wonder off into a delicate dream.
The first thing he noticed was the foggy battlefield set out before him. Statue of different sizes surrounded the battlefield, and they all looked oddly familiar. He examined them from where he was standing, and after a mild observation, he noticed they were all of him.
Ratty went to walk forward, but he would not budge. He was rather confused as to why but before he could relatively question himself, he noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. He looked closer and saw her, Thistle. He went to shout out her name but not a single word would budge out of his stone cold lips. He stared on at her and noticed her patterning footsteps, slow and robotic, moving towards the battlefield of statues. He looked around as much as he could, to notice any slight difference between the statues, but found none.
He then zoned back to Thistle, who was finally at the closest statue. She leaned towards it’s ear and whispered something. Ratty stood glued to the ground watching her go from statue to statue, whispering something in each of their ears. Her legs swatted away fog as she moved while her eyes and emotion stayed somewhat serious. Ratty couldn’t read her lips, so he looked to the ground and awaited her to come to him.
Her footsteps echoed around the battlefield and soon arrived next to him. A tingle of fear edged through Ratty’s stone could body, but he tried to keep himself calm. Her lips edged towards his ear before they stopped and she walked towards the front of him. She put a finger under his chin and laughed.
Ratty was puzzled onto what she was trying to say. Wrong? Wrong about what? Ratty looked up to her face and noticed something in her eyes, it was some sort of expression, an expression that possessed hunger. Ratty gulped before staring at her. She smiled sweetly at him before letting go of his chin.
“We’ve always had the good and the bad, but this has gone too far.”
The other statues disappeared, and so did Thistle. He suddenly could move, but it was leading him to nowhere, since the mist and fog covered everywhere. Ratty sucked in a breath and let his hands fall loosely to his sides as he yet again looked around.
“This is your fault you know.”
Ratty’s head angled up towards the sky at the sound of her voice again.
“What was?” He asked, his voice echoing through the darkness of mist and fog.
“You don’t remember do you?”
A small chuckle echoed through the area, and suddenly a large wind picked up. It carried Ratty backwards and he desperately went to grab at anything, but failed. His body felt as light as a faether as it whirled through the sky and he then landed somewhere.
He saw Thistle, she was talking to a figure, but the figure was nothing but a shadow. Was she talking to herself? Ratty edged forward to try and hear them, which he did.
“Did he touch you?”
The voice sounded deep and loud throughout the room. The shadow laid a hand on Thistle’s shoulder and it sent a small shutter through Ratty’s spine. Thistle’s reply was but a whisper, but Ratty could understand her.
Ratty blinked for a second before the shadow replied.
“Did he hurt you?”
Thistle sat a chair that was behind her and put her hands in her lap and sighed.
Ratty looked at her. She looked broken the way she was sitting.
“In how many ways? List them for me.”
Thistle let out a desperate noise before she looked towards her lap.
“In three different ways… One… Since the day I saw him, he’s made me feel like I’m melting inside, and it burns.”
Ratty bit his furry lip, who were they talking about?
“Two… He dug his nails into my wrist, forcing blood out of it, thought he was only trying to stop me…”
Ratty looked to his own nails, thought it only made him gulp, knowing he had accidentally made her bleed in that way before, but that was trying to stop her from telling her father about his secret. He had apologized many times after that thought.
“And three… I love him, and it ruins me whenever he has to go.”
Ratty tilted his hand in a questionable manner before he looked to the shadow, but the shadow had disappeared, and he was yet again in the darkness filled with fog and mist.
Her voice repeated, before a hand appeared in front of him. Ratty looked at it awkwardly before it brushed over his wrist as if petting him.
“All this time you saw me as A friend.”
Ratty shook his head, but the voice continued.
“But I love you Ratty.”
Ratty took a deep breath.
“I love you… Thi…..”
Suddenly, everything was in a motion. He heard the wind echoing around the darkness and the hand disappeared, and the garden appeared again. Ratty felt something on his chest, where his heat would be, and looked down to see a hand.
He looked up and saw Thistle, smiling at him. Ratty smiled back and she pulled him into a hug.
“I was worried about you.”
She said, shaking her head into his fur.
“I went to find you, but you weren’t where you usually where, and when I found you out here, you had stopped breathing for a good five minutes.”
Ratty bit his furry lip and sighed, it must have been when he was the statue. He pulled out of the hug and looked up to Thistle.
“You were crying when your heart came back Ratty. I was scared.”
Ratty sighed before tilting his head, and suddenly he felt something coming up in her throat, and he turned around just in time to spew. He felt Thistle rubbing his back and one he was finished, he wiped his mouth and turned around to her again, letting her hand drop around his stomach.
“Do you know wh-“
Ratty noticed her looking down to the ground and used his finger to tilt her head up. She looked at him in a sad state before she spoke.
“I did this to you Ratty. I meant to sprinkle your food with sugar, but when I realized what I really sprinkled it was rat poison, it was too late.”
Ratty looked to her, his expression changing to concern.
“No, princess, I’m still alive aren’t I? The rat poison won’t kill me. I won’t let it.”
Thistle burred her hair in Rattys fur and sobbed silently, and Ratty sighed.
“I.. I’m okay princess, I swear it…”
Ratty gave a weak smile and then slowly fell asleep. Thistle stopped and looked at him.
“No! No! Don’t go again!”
Ratty yawned in his sleep and rolled over, almost on top of Thistle. Thistle knew the only way for him to heal was to sleep… But if that was the case, he’d be sleeping a very long time… So for now, Thistle jay laid next to him and laid her hand right on top of his heart, and curled into a ball and slept with him, hoping that the two could wake up together again…
This cute little story was made for Flamette's two oc's Ratty and Thistle. It took me a little while to write but I still hope it was good! It's based off two songs, the first being Just A Dream by Nelly and Hand On Heart by Olly Murs.