When we consider time, we think of the past at our backs and the future somewhere ahead on the horizon. We do not yet see it, but we
wait to; we move forward, creating distance between ourselves and history, but the same conceptualization does not apply to Robinkit. He wears his future on his shoulders and sets his eyes on what once was, intrigued endlessly by the memories of those around him and the history worn by SkyClan's trees and stones. He collects idle curiosities with an intense fervor: a bit of twoleg refuse here and a strangely-shaped shard of bark there. This hunger drives him to the elders' sides, eager for stories, and Bobbie is certainly no exception to his insatiable curiosity: he will want to know his father through her eyes, just as he will seek to know him from the eyes of everyone else who ever knew him. A complete picture, in his mind, is best served by the depth of dimension sunlight and shadow bring when they battle over a stone.
This is not to say he has no interest in the future; in fact, he seeks to better shape what rests at his back with what he
can see: yesterday, yesterweek, yestermoon, yesteryear. Theoretically, he will never make a mistake twice, will never meet the same folly told to him by a regret-wearied elder. He does not seek perfection so much as strategize it, with a clever mind and an arterial terror of failing his own potential. The best warrior, the best hunter, the best leaf-turner and plant-namer— he wants it all to be worthy of the faith Blazestar and Bobbie shared in his genesis.
Naturally, such a driven, keen creature is flawed in that very pursuit of accomplishment. Ambition seeds arrogance, and as he grows older, this self-assurance will be his greatest obstacle, even more so as Bobbie steps away from their lives. Robinkit fights vulnerability with brash confidence, a terrible, cyclical prison of his own making. What pleasant charm and eloquence he develops as he ages will not always offset or soothe hackles raised by his brazen vaunting.
appearances my beloathed