private hearts change || robinpaw

[brookstorm]

Brookpaw grits her teeth together. Her pride, she feels, is all she has; her secrecy and fortitude are byproducts of her strong willed behavior and yet as she stands by the apprentice's den, she feels it crumbling in her paws. Moons ago she had threatened a soul purely because she was hurting, weeks prior she played a nasty prank for the same reason, yet tonight, she... what? Intends to fix it all? Her heart is bruised with the mere suggestion that she might be wrong in any capacity yet this motion is all her own doing. No other being pushes her to act, she's simply spent far too many sleepless nights thinking of her micro aggressions and attitude. Maybe it's a part of growing up, she thinks; maybe honesty is a sign of warriorhood. Would her mother be proud?

"Hey," she speaks as soon as she spies the predominantly black pelted feline. Her ears fold backwards partially before she nods her head towards a secluded portion of camp. Brookpaw figures that she and Robinpaw can have a moment alone - maybe a fool like Otterpaw would interject, but it's easy to send such a tom on a wild goose chase. Regardless, she stalks away, hopefully guiding the other with her.

She seats herself as soon as she can, and before the other can speak, she bids a, "I did it." A beat, and her tail falls over her paws, "The robins in your nest; it was me," and the aforementioned Otterpaw, but Brookpaw covers for him. This time, at least. Her eyes are half lidded, as if she's annoyed with this admittance. Her emotions behind her words are well hidden, even to her, for better or for worse.

"Go on," she speaks again, this time softer, "Go tell Lichentail and Willowroot. I've caused you enough grief for the next couple seasons; I'm done now." Is she? Brookpaw feels she's somehow beyond the pitiful pranks and negging behavior. Yet all the same, she feels like tonight will not be the last time. "You can have my nest, anyhow. Yours is still bloodstained, I figure, if you've yet to change the moss," her nose wrinkles up, as clearly another jab slips her tongue.​

 

[robinheart]

There is little pride to be had in the multicolored apprentice - not after all she has done and all she has been put through. A near traitor to RiverClan; a punching bag for the gratification of others. Robinpaw is as easy a target as any and it has taken her moons to accept such a fate. Penitence to be paid and the tortoiseshell puts forth all her effort to do so. Crashingtide’s advice did not fall on deaf ears - she was done being helpless. She could sit a little straighter, speak up for herself a little louder. Warriorhood was just around the corner and if honesty was the price Brookpaw would pay to advance then acceptance and fortitude would be Robinpaw’s lot to pay.

She is surprised to hear the stone shaded apprentice speak, citrine eyes lifting from the task she had been diligently working on to fix upon Brookpaw. They linger only a moment before the other beckons Robinpaw out of the apprentice den and out into camp - to a more private location. Rarely has privacy boded well for the mollies but Robinpaw sets aside her doubts and follows after Brookpaw.

’I did it,’ Brookpaw admits in the space it takes Robinpaw to seat herself and prepare for what is to come; or as much as one can prepare when taken by surprise by someone who has tormented them for moons. Confusion paints itself across her face and Brookpaw continues, admitting to the cruel prank. That confusion is quick to melt away into… disappointment? Shock? Robinpaw stares deftly at Brookpaw for a long moment, words failing to knit themselves into a coherent response. “Why?” It’s all she can manage to murmur, brow furrowed gently.

As for telling Lichentail and Willowroot, Robinpaw’s head tells her to go and do so imminently - punishment had been promised to whoever pulled such a prank on the tortie. But her heart stutters; it clenches and breaks for reasons she cannot comprehend. ”No, I will not tell them. You’ve lived with the guilt long enough - it drove you here to admit it to me after all. That should be punishment enough I think. You can tell them yourself if you think you deserve more of a punishment though,” she responds quietly, thoughtfully even. As for the offer of Brookpaw’s nest and the subsequent jab at her ability to replace her own ruined moss, the tortoiseshell shakes her head. ”Keep your nest. I worked much too hard making it special for you to lay claim to it myself. My nest was replaced soon after your cruel prank… I am rather skilled at finding moss and assembling nests after all,” she admits in a tone somewhat indifferent to Brookpaw’s jab, going as far as to highlight her own strengths gained from her punishment given to her by Cicadastar moons and moons ago.

 

[brookstorm]

Why?

Brookpaw stares back, her emotions hiding behind walls beyond even herself. Her chest builds with a breath, the temptation to make the situation worse, to somehow retract the apology that, frankly, does not exist. To be questioned so easily, by a voice so soft - it frustrates her. The stone colored femme swallows her pride but struggles still in pressing her thoughts through her ivory teeth. She wishes they were stained with blood once more - it seems the only time she's truthful to herself is when she standing in the viscera of another.

"Because..." she starts, and her jaw remains slackened for a moment, before she tries again, "Because, I grew angry with the wrong she-cat." Brookpaw doesn't tilt her gaze away, green eyes hardlocked onto gilded ones, unafraid. She's worthy of punishment, just as much as Robinpaw had never been deserving of torment. Tch, this whole honesty thing is tricky.

Robinpaw refuses the right to be absolved of the name-ridden crime - and for a second, Brookpaw's eyes light with confusion and surprise. It's quick, accompanied by a slick, "Idiot," and only then does her gaze find itself tossed aside. Why must the other protect her after all of the fox-dung she's projected her through? It's not fair to either of them. Then again, life beneath StarClan's silverpelt is never fair. "The offer is out there, for whenever you're ready to cash it in," she decides. "The fish is in your pond now, Robinpaw. I'm done," a pause. "I promise," and she means it, somehow.

Her offer of swapping nests is rebuffed, and a piece of Brookpaw is relieved. Meadowheart's scent is long gone from the moss, but the dried up bits left behind are cherished nonetheless. Still, she stands and takes a step closer - not so threateningly, however not with ease or friendliness exactly either. "What's your favorite flower, then? Bird? I'll find you petals, or feathers, something." Brookpaw purses her lips and furrows her brow, "You may be willing to let everything slide, but I want to make sure I do right by you, somehow. We'll be warriors in a moon's time. I want to leave kittenish behaviors behind."​

 

[robinheart]

They are locked in a silent staring contest, Robinpaw trying to read Brookpaw’s stony expression while the other formulates her response. It is frustrating in a satisfying sense - Robinpaw was not aware one question could cause such pause in the other. Certainly the reason was not that hard to explain. But pride could tie tongues better than anything she supposed, and so she waits in the breath holding silence.

‘Because… because, I grew angry with the wrong she-cat,’ Brookpaw admits and Robinpaw blinks in subtle understanding. “And would the right she-cat have deserved that?” The multicolored molly asks, having the feeling that Brookpaw’s misplaced anger would have belonged to herself rather than Robinpaw. “Your prank caused me much strife and ridicule. Other apprentices thought I was hoarding the robins - they thought me a greedy kittypet,” Robinpaw murmurs in a sort of pained tone, unhappy to relive that particular morning, “everything I have done, everything I worked for to prove myself, it could have been undone that day because of your misplaced anger.” Forgiveness had been easily given but with it came a need for understanding of what could have happened if some of the other apprentices had not stood up for Robinpaw.

‘Idiot,’ Brookpaw calls her and perhaps there is a smidge of truth there. Robinpaw was shielding her rival from deserved punishment. But for what reason? Why did Brookpaw deserve to get off the hook for a cruel prank? Only StarClan knew. And if Robinpaw sticks to her word then StarClan would be the only ones to know the truth of what transpired between the two she-cats. “Noted. Thank you Brookpaw,” the other replies with a nod, watching the stone hued apprentice look away while promising to be done. Freedom from the other’s wrath left Robinpaw feeling rather odd… perhaps empty? For what would take the place of their rivalry she had grown accustomed to?

Robinpaw finds herself rising to her paws as Brookpaw does, though she remains statuesque while the other takes a step forward. Brookpaw offers petals or feathers or anything as a sign of goodwill. A way to make things right. But Robinpaw merely shakes her head at such offers. “A physical gift will not make things right or resolve kittenish behaviors,” she explains, tempting a step forward to further close the gap between them. The air is still and silent around them for a long moment as Robinpaw’s features soften. “If you want to do right by me then treat me as your equal. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Maybe even treat me as a friend - we may need one another as we enter warriorhood and all the newness that will entail,” Robinpaw urges hopefully, wondering if Brookpaw would accept such a deal. Of course it would be more difficult than simply giving Robinpaw a physical trinket, but it was all the tortie wanted in the end.