JUST GOTTA LET IT GO | willowroot

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

she awoke the same she had been for the past couple of nights. staring at lightning's nest. she inched hers closer, subtle-like, and mentioned it to no living soul. if he were to ask about it, she would tell him that he must be imagining things, or must have really missed her. she is not willing to admit that it slightly helps her rest. or that she has grown to resent her own nest. at first, she thought it must be the material. buck was a particular woman and did things in a particular way, her nest was no exception. but it was all how she needed it. the moss in a specific spot situated near her head and shoulder, leaves evenly distributed in her bedding. she then shrunk the damned thing, and even now it still seems to grow larger every passing night. she's never felt so small, especially when the rest of the clan cats are asleep, and she stares at the gray expanse of the warrior's back. she doesn't think of what'd she do if he turned to face her in those moments, other than try to kick him as hard as she could in his broad features.

it's wearing the deputy down. she can still feel him underneath her deft paws. feel the strain of her muscles as she pushed him into the dirt. feel the saliva pool around her wicked canines as she shrieked at and begged him to just acknowledge her. and he did, and she was never more afraid of someone looking at her until then. truly, this must be her descent into insanity. the once sure and stubborn molly, some wild and unholy beast that could never be caught or tamed, has now begun to tear at its flesh. she's pulling herself apart and trying to find the rot to dig out, find the loose thread, and cut it. something is wrong with her.

she trained endlessly, pushed her warriors, snapped and bit, been overall high-strung. physically, buck is still as intimidating and brutal as ever. it is the only reason she now seeks caraway out. avoiding the femme because she could not deal with the other's blessing. running away, because buck has always been a coward in the end. trying to avoid what hurts and scares her is kit-like, yet she can't grow from it. even as she stares at her kin, her muscles are taut and breath held for too long. her lungs ache and she thinks of turning away and just letting herself suffer. she can live with her nest being a bit big for her liking, or her irritability. but it's hard to confront her past.

all she does is let out a light cough from her throat, eyes avoidant as she knows her kin will look towards the molly. willowroot was another topic that buck had not wanted to touch on. not yet. it's hard to think of it all. the foolishness and naivety, but it's all too familiar. her pregnancy with fawn was brutal on her body and mind, and she did her child no favors. she exerted her body to exhaustion, and in the end, she had paid the ultimate price.

the prideful head of the molly falls, ego wounded and lacking her usual confidence. her eyes burn, but she can't cry in front of her dear caraway. "i think something is wrong with me." it falls unexpectant from her mouth, and it doesn't sound like her. buck does not admit to faults in herself, she hides them from view and makes the world see her as something wonderous and undeniable. that is something the both of them know. they also both know that buck would not be doing this unless it had seriously bothered her. if it had scared her to this point of vulnerability.

the deputy grows silent, watching her lead warrior. waiting for them to say something, anything.

@willowroot
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[willowroot]

( ☾ ) the dynamic between her and her family has grown strange. not broken, nor torn apart, but still rather frayed at the edges, different modivations and moods pulling each apart. she remembers joining riverclan as if it was yesterday, paws still trembling from her argument with buck, but confident that the life would be better for the then small bundle of fur she called boar. moons stretch between then and now, but that one choice had sent a flurry of new situations towards her. not all of them are ones she's equipped to deal with. so much of her wants to blame the arrival of the clans for that very first crack in the foundation, but it would be hypocritical. their arrival had simply sped up the inevitable, beckoned the waves bound to break upon the family's carefully protected shore. sometimes she dreams of the simpler life, paws twitching in her sleep as in her head she climbs the ancient willow tree, a smile easy on her maw. that easy smile is rare now.

caraway is and has always been a stargazer. they can be commonly found curled at the base of the den, head tipped to the sky, mind too full and to impossibly twisted to make sense of any one thought. when pawsteps stir the still air, they lower their gaze, heart stuttering only slightly as verdant eyes make full contact with those sea bright hues so familiar to them. there is tension between the two felines as they stare at one another, neither making a movement until finally, the deputy approaches. words dance on the tip of the smoke's tongue, but their head is loud and thoughts too jumbled. it has been weeks since they've spoken in private. only a few days since buckgait's curt congratulations. something is wrong, they can feel it in their chest like a ripple in a still pond. something has been wrong for many moons now. things are about to come to a head, and they don't know if they're ready.

there is guilt in the foggy recesses of the lead warrior's mind. guilt and shame, and regret, all mixing to form the churning in their stomach. they know the story of fawn. they know every deepest emotion their kin has felt. over the past few days, they've processed how their actions have betrayed the secrets buck had once shared. how could they, one who knows so deeply the worst of their friend's past, take the very same actions? how could they be so selfish?

now, as the the earthen molly hesitates, willowroot can see the conflict in her eyes. they know their kin better than perhaps any living being, but nothing prepares them for what the femme says now. "i think something is wrong with me."

buck has never admitted defeat. in the old willow tree days, the straightforward feline would never back down, be it a dispute over prey or a playful wrestling match. caraway sometimes thought that the only things keeping the woman on her paws was the spite and stubbornness that courses through her veins. now, staring wide eyed at their companion, there is no preparation for this kind of admission. buck has never been wrong in her life- willow knows this because the dusky molly always sets them straight. they have never had to fix anything buck has done because she's smart and she's capable. if buck is broken then one might as well throw the earth away and start over.

willowroot swallows, beckons the deputy to sit beside them, grazes her flank with the tip of their tail. for all the work buckgait has done in her life, willow never imagined her to not have the answers. if she has admitted something as big as this, then fear must motivate it. "i don't." they say, and then realize it's not the answer the other might want. still, it's the truth. "i think that things are changing, but i have never seen anything wrong with you, bucky." the lead warrior tips their head, as they so often do when in thought. it's a familiar gesture, one performed countless times in countless situations. "why do you think something's wrong, love?"​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

the atmosphere is thick and heavy, buck nearly can choke on it. it only makes her want to flee further. to say that this was just some prank and stare at the dying lands. but she doesn't. doesn't move an inch even as caraway welcomes her further in. because caraway has never turned buck away, even when they should have. the argument they had still plays in the molly's head, and the betrayal still makes her throat tighten and heart drop. the words she had said were only spoken out of fear and hurt, she is sure they both knew this. knew that buck is as volatile as any spring day. raining, to sunshine, to harsh winds. i don't, speaks willowroot. buck only feels herself choking more.

eventually, the woman finds no more pride in staying away. edging closer to eventually rest against the pregnant warrior. sinking against the warm smoken fur that she had so desperately missed. their nests were never far in the roots of the willow, paws often resting against each other. breath tickling furs and a tail rested on the other. it's a closeness she desires, intimacy was an absent part of her early life. it seems that now it's rarer to come by. at least then, she had the warmth of an engorged belly. a cruel man by her side. he was nothing in personality or gentleness, but at least he was warm and easy on the eyes. even if she wished to drown him every day, he did not bother her sights. when fawn was born, she was never alone. the only pure thing in this world, finding comfort in warm cinnamon fur. the deputy might burst into tears as it is, and she can't help but reflect and mourn when near caraway. it's not fair. but it is selfish of buck to think that caraway doesn't deserve this, they do. but it is all buck had ever wanted. and she has to watch her kin get it.

"i don't think i'm meant for change," a slow drawl as she adverts her eyes, shutting them tight to block out any more stimulation. to make sure her companion does not see how glassy her eyes have turned. "you...you settled in so well. a partner...kits...plenty of friends..." everything she's dreamed of. ever since buck was no taller than the smallest tide. someplace that loved her so dearly, held her so tightly, and kept her safe and warm. yet she freezes in the night and remains ruthless in the paws of riverclan. "i thought...maybe riverclan would turn me softer. i think i've gotten worse. meaner," they both knew she was born with fangs a bit too long and claws a bit too sharp, but she thought they might dull. thought the safety of a colony would make her more relaxed. now she has the lives of many thrust upon her. cats look up to her, and though she is no leader, she is still forced to be a protector and provider. "lonelier." she finishes, trying to ignore the break in her cords.

the earthen deputy does not want to come to her kin for her troubles with love. she omits lightning's name altogether. to let herself hope to be held by that man seems like it might shatter her completely. yet every time they are together, which is often now, she can't help but pine. to think of what it would be like to put their nests together, spend the night with her head tucked away and hidden from the world. his words haunt her, should she take them in the eyes of a romantic or just a man passionate about their platonic partnership? "i'm trying to keep them all safe and fed. but there's so much in my mind that i feel like i'm going mad, caraway." like some pestering tom and a life that is not her's. it could all be solved, but buck is afraid. afraid if he turns out just like the last man. if she'll never get the family she's wanted. if she's even meant for this role. or if buck is just what her mother said she was, some damned and far too wild for anyone to stay with.
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