WHAT YOU WANT ━ ROBINHEART

[Gladefrost]

// cw: blood

How long has it been since she was in the medicine den? Despite the roaring floral scent ranging from sweet and sour, it seemed as if the metallic scent of blood forever stained her scent and her mouth. Her jaw tensed up and she found herself restless one of the nights and haunted by guilty memories━ the cowering forms of her siblings, the limp body of her father, Robinheart and Lichentail crumpled with despair of Smokestar's disappearance. Her gaze lingered out the medicine den and she slowly found herself forcing herself to her paws despite the sharp pain in her shoulders, stumbling momentarily in her pursuit to get up. In the middle of the night, she had found herself to the warrior den as she grasped the polished stone from the waters a couple weeks ago.

Troutsnout heaves softly as she struggles back to the medicine den with the citrine colored rock in tow, quietly making her way in the medicine den as she stares at the injured form of her best friend and the others. Look at what you caused. The voice taunts as she bares her fangs at the memory, curved claws digging into the sand. This is my fault. The wounded warrior would sourly think as she glances at Robinheart and gently places the rock before her, settling in her nest. Her paws lightly tucked under her chest as she stares out in the distance, a once vibrant chambray gaze now dimmed and lifeless━ guilt, rage. She finds herself restless and plagued with the taste of blood stained in her mouth still, an empty gaze contemplating the next steps in her life.

Everything she believed had crumpled so easily, and it was shameful how easy she braced a violent side. Was this what she was meant to do if it meant protecting those she loved? A white paw extends out as she stares at flexed curved claws, the images of how easy she shed blood and how violent she was. Is this what you want me to do, Starclan? Troutsnout ponders as if her beliefs were nothing in the scrutiny of the stars, a protector? What was the use of protecting others, if she couldn't even do it? A rustling of a nearby nest catches her attention as her ear flicks, wondering if it was Robinheart or one of the others. She didn't want to look━ she didn't have the right to. It was without a doubt, she looked like a monster now and felt like one (but... it felt right if it meant protecting her loved ones).

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕, ( 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 )

• ooc.
  
• TROUTSNOUT ⋆ she / her / hers
  ✶ lh chocolate and white spotted tabby w/ blue eyes
  ✶ 16 moons old; ages the 23rd monthly
  ✶ bisexual biromantic; conflicted feelings for slateheart
  ✶ currently mentoring none; mentored by goosethroat
  ✶ ”speech”, thoughts, attacking
  ✶ all opinions are in character only
  

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[robinheart]

In the moonlit den she watches Troutsnout, citrine eyes fixated on curled claws and distant features. The scene fills the pit of her stomach with dread - seeing her best friend like this feels wrong. "It's not your fault." Her voice doesn’t feel like her own, doesn’t hold the same somber grace it usually does - it is flat. Not yet filled with reassurance that she wants to give to her best friend; uncertain of how deep her words will sink in.

Speckled paw lifts from her nest and draws the smoothed river stone closer, treasuring the gift for a second before feeling compelled to reiterate herself. “It’s not your fault, Troutsnout… I’ve known you since we were kits, I know you are holding onto all of this… this hardship,” the mottled queen murmurs, respectful of her volume as to not wake the other inhabitants. Only now does she find reassurance tinging carefully spoken words. A certain gentleness she recalls Hazecloud sharing with her when she felt Brookstorm’s death had been her fault caressing each syllable.

If she could rise to her paws she would; she’d march to the brown speckled molly’s nest and lay beside her. But Robinheart cannot. Her leg is still stiffly bound, her break too new to put pressure on it. The best she can do is hope her friend will meet her gaze and see the worry swimming in sunbright eyes. ​

[ penned by kerms ]​