private my love bleeds ribbons | robinheart

[brookstorm]

She's woken up several times in the night, her head heavy and her chest in pain. Moonbeam is always nearby, her white fur shimmering with the filtered moonlight, but Brookstorm never has the energy to wake her. Her eyes flutter open, close, open, close - she must sleep in between each bout of consciousness, for before long, the sun filters in and the warrior is welcomed by a new brightness.

Brookstorm heaves out a pained breath, and though she's thoroughly dried and her already erratic fur licked every which way to keep her warm, she shivers. Her chest and throat feel clogged but - but... she's awake. Everything aches as she lifts her head, and it doesn't immediately fall back into her nest. Dizzy, her attention looks towards the medicine den's entrance. A cat stands there, idly fiddling with some moss, and she narrows her eyes towards them. A moment, a hushed whisper she cannot decipher, and the cat zips out of the den.

Soon, a familiar face breaks the threshold, smelling freshly of milk and newfound exhaustion.

"Rob... Robin..." she tries, but her voice scratches her throat, "Ugh," she spits something up, pressing her lips into a thin line before she rests her head again, leaf green eyes looking tiredly towards the other. "I'm - I... I..." She cannot find the words she wants to say.​

 

[robinheart]

The longest, darkest night of her life has ended in a morning shimmering with hope. Her heart still lurches at the news of what had become of her mate. The way Lichentail found the blue moggy waterlogged on the shore. The endless night filled with newborn squeaks and fearful thoughts, sleep only brushing over the mottled queen for a few minutes at a time. It’s the not knowing if Brookstorm would fully wake up that causes her to arouse. But by morning’s light Brookstorm does awaken - and Robinheart is fetched to speak with her beloved.

Her heart drops into her stomach as she cautiously enters the medicine den, citrine eyes wide as they adjust to dim lighting and focus on the shivering figure of Brookstorm. Words, far too many, choke the new mother, though it seems her mate is quicker to find something to say.

Or attempt to say.

“Shhh,” the tricolored molly coos softly, nearly stumbling over her paws to get to Brookstorm’s nest and curl around the blue warrior as best she could. Robinheart buries her nose in Brookstorm’s scruff and trembles from withheld tears. “I was so scared, Brookstorm,” she admits in a warble as eyes squeeze tight. So scared that she had lost her lover. So scared to be alone. So scared that their kits would never know of their other mother. “I’m so glad Lichentail found you.” She owed the deputy everything for bringing Brookstorm back to her.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[brookstorm]

Warm... As Robinheart gathers by her side, that's all she can properly think. Leafbare chill had settled itself permanently into her bones but the fire still burning in her lover's chest melts the ice frozen to her fur. She exhales a sigh, crackling noises underlying every second. She can tell, somewhere in the brushing of their fur, that someone is scared. Robinheart says it's her, but the blood that casually rushes through Brookstorm's curled ears say otherwise.

“I don't -” she tries again, and she grimaces. The other's hushes do not halt her again, as a bitter sentiment rests on her tongue at the mention of Lichentail. She doesn't dislike the deputy (not anymore, not when death was supposedly so close,) but the other's scratchy voice pushes her to try harder.

“I don't know… what even happened…” Does Robinheart? She tries to lift her head to gather a full look at her beloved, swallowing something thick down. It's then that she notices - “Hey… hey,” she presses a shaky paw to the other's midsection, gently. “Rob- Robinheart, you're… soft. Did you…?” Oh, StarClan - if Robinheart had labored and kitted while she wasn't here, while she was off somewhere doing something... she doesn't know what she would do. If she could do anything at all, of course.​

 

[robinheart]

’I don’t know… what even happened…’

Robinheart’s ears fall back against her head as she leans closer into Brookstorm’s messy pelt. She’ll take a moment to groom fussed curls down while collecting her thoughts, piecing together the details given to her by others. “Lichentail found you washed up alongside the river, unconscious and unresponsive,” the mottled queen answers between fixing the tangled scruff and chest of her mate. “I-I don’t know exactly what happened, but the storm… and the river…” they were accidents waiting to happen. It pains her that the blue moggy had to endure the wrath of nature when all she wanted was to uphold her promise.

A shaky paw pressed lightly to her midsection and Robinheart’s own paw reached to cover Brookstorm’s, holding it gently in place. “Yes,” she whispers, citrine eyes meeting green gaze tenderly. “They came just after sunhigh. Three healthy kits. Beautiful kits…” a pause to let the news settle, “The first, Rivuletkit, she’s got your coloring but with so much more white. A-And the second, Redkit, he’s bright like the fur on my chest with his undersides pristinely white. The third,” Robinheart gathers her maternal pride and courage, “is Algaekit. She’s got sparse blue tortoiseshell speckling, like algae atop the water’s surface… and it’s a name y-you wanted to use.” She leaves it at that, knowing that is more than enough information for her lover to process. Robinheart could wax poetic all day long about their litter, but she doesn’t want to overwhelm her recovering mate. In time Brookstorm could get to know them if she wished. For now she knew the basics - and to the tortie that was enough.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[brookstorm]

Brookstorm can't hold a steady gaze - her head bobs while her lover speaks and she eventually rests it again, closing her eyes to fend off the headache rolling in. She lets a purr rumble in her chest as Robinheart grooms her, but grimaces as the memories of the day prior shuffle themselves back into her mind's eye. "I -" she starts, and she falls flat. She had been hunting, and then became a fool in her endeavor. Too hardy, too brave. She should have been smarter.

Green eyes flit open again to look back towards the mottled molly, her beauty almost literally hurting Brookstorm and she tries again to hold her gaze. She speaks of their children and the stone blue feline feels her chest ache. Rivuletkit - she sees right through the other's scheme, but says oh-too little about it. Redkit - simple, but Robinheart wouldn't name a kitten after herself, even if they were spitting images. And finally, Algaekit. Algaekit...

"Robinheart," she breathes, and it's heartbreaking as she coughs soon after. Stubborn she is, the warrior whines as she tries to push herself to sore legs, "I should - Robin, I have to meet them," she pleads. She hardly lurches forwards, or even moves at all, before collapsing again and grunting. "I missed it. I missed it - I'm - I'm sorry, I promised, and I didn't -" she coughs, ears twisting as her unusually emotional nature catches the worst of her. "Robin, I'm sorry -"​

 

[robinheart]

Robinheart’s stomach clenches at just how weak Brookstorm is; how her head droops like that of their newborn kits, how rattled and shaky her breaths are within ivory ribcage. She’s alive though. She just needs time to recover. Moonbeam will have Brookstorm back to normal soon. All the stone blue molly needed was rest and some sort of herb or something. The tortoiseshell tries not to linger on bleak thoughts, instead focusing on the rumble of her lover’s purr and each precious breath filling lungs.

She speaks of their children and knows not what her mate thinks of their names; perhaps deep down she doesn’t want to know. She had carried and birthed them herself after all - it was her reward to be had. Selfish maybe, but in the same breadth she proved heartfelt by picking a name that meant something to Brookstorm. Whether or not the curled eared warrior chose to know them, they’d always have a part of her with them.

Shock colors weary features as Brookstorm tries to stand. She utilizes stubborn strength, wishing to meet them. Had she not been so weak Robinheart would have agreed with the desire; she would have supported her mate’s side and led her to the nursery. But she can’t. She won’t. “Brook, stop.” Robinheart whispers in a pained tone as she drapes her tail across blue back. “There’s time to meet them later… when you’ve recovered. Please,” she begs, voice gentle and pitched with emotion, “lay with me. Sleep. I will keep you company for a while. When you’ve regained your strength you’ll meet them.” She does her best to push together some wayward moss from the warrior’s nest to make it more comfortable. She casts her tongue over curled ear, wincing at the other’s cough and emotional apologies. “You don’t have to apologize… please don’t apologize. You were trying to uphold your promise… no one could have predicted this would happen.” It’s not your fault, she could add, but instead moves to hold Brookstorm and resume grooming unkempt pelt. She’d take care of her mate for as long as the napping kittens allowed, for as long as it took to lull the blue moggy to sleep and make sure she was as comfortable as possible.​

[ penned by kerms ]​