private YOU! // robinpaw

[brookstorm]

"You."

It's late at night. Brookpaw had been nestled in her nest of moss and reeds, though unable to sleep like usual. She had seen a blur of black and red fur leaving them, escaping into the open - and perhaps it was residual rage, or exhausting fatigue, but the stone furred she-cat pushed herself to broad paws and lumbered after her denmate. They hardly made it further than the confined of the den when she had spoken, her normally taut and clipped tone laden with venom.

"Isn't this what got you into that mess once already?" Brookpaw raises her head and glares downwards at the younger apprentice. She figures that, with the direction the other was going, she might've only been going to the dirtplace, or a midnight snack. She digs in her heels regardless, the other's red adornment still abrasively loud in the dim moonlight. She wonders if the glint of her teeth is just as obvious, her grimace becoming increasingly more toothy.

"You... understand how lucky you are, right?" She leans back, tail wrapping protectively around her legs. The fur on her shoulders is still standing too-tall, ruffled against the nightly breeze. "Tell me. Tell me how lucky you are." It's less pleading; a demand laced with mourning and grief and anger and frustration. All the same, she doesn't remove her gaze from Robinpaw's, green eyes piercing into gold.

@robinpaw. ​

 

[robinheart]

"You."

Her careful steps slow and then altogether cease as rustling from the apprentice den manifests a voice just as chilly as the night air. Robinpaw breathes a sigh of defeat, the mission to use the dirtplace long forgotten as she turns to face Brookpaw, who looms large over the younger tortoiseshell apprentice in a way that mirrors how Cicadastar had loomed large over Robinpaw as Blazestar presented her back to RiverClan. Her heart skips a beat all the same and it is difficult to tamp down the anxiety slowly creeping up her throat. "I-I," she stammers, staring at the stony she-cat's moonlit features - the highlighted sleeplessness accentuating the other's grimace. "I wasn't leaving camp, I promise," Robinpaw finally replies (as if it would abolish Brook's irritation and anger towards her for leaving the apprentice den in the first place), her ears angled back and pupils wide with uncertainty. For a moment she breaks eye contact to seek out help, but it seems the late night hour holds no waking souls nearby.

"You... understand how lucky you are, right?"

Lucky? That was the last word Robinpaw would use to describe her situation. Golden eyes are drawn back to chips of emerald and before Robin can answer Brook continues with, "Tell me. Tell me how lucky you are." Her words are sharp and demanding. The emotion tied to each syllable pierces the tortoiseshell like a thorn and chokes her like ivy. Robinpaw takes a step back and lightly shakes her head, the weight of her collar feeling so much heavier as it rubs against her neck. "I understand that this doesn't seem fair but... I am not lucky to be here. I-I don't have to tell you anything or admit anything to you. I don't owe you anything," Robinpaw stammers out, shivering into the night air at the predicament she has found herself in. "I'm sorry about Buckgait, truly I am, but don't... don't take your grief out on me. I've already been punished enough."

 

[brookstorm]

Her grimace morphs slightly, exhibiting more disgust as the other stumbles through her words at first. Pathetic, Brookpaw wants to say, though her tongue is held cleanly within her mouth. Robinpaw's efforts to deflect blame or worry are met with a meager chuff, and the older apprentice continues as she does; blame is laden in her tone, as if the multicolored femme before her is the reason why her mother's missing. Her demands are just as strong, little to no restraint in her words.

She wants to grab the other by her collar. In the light of the moon she wants to shred it, her teeth and claws ache for a purchase. Something, anything, to make her feel justified in her actions. To make her feel right again, as if her unshed tears for Buckgait mean something all the more. She remains still, however, curled ears tilting back as Robinpaw again defends herself. The other is well spoken, something Brookpaw will admit is a relief - though in the same breath she wishes the other would fall apart in sobs or attack her first. Justification is one wild emotion away, she thinks.

"You aren't?" Brookpaw interrupts the other, though Robinpaw is sturdy and keeps talking, even when she stammers again and again. Brookpaw lets out another low toned laugh, "And you think you've been punished enough?" Her tail lashes, freeing her legs as she strides forward. If allowed, the young she-cat would stand too close to her denmate, noses a near breath's width apart. "Buckgait had to leave behind her three children and a mate and several friends, because a twoleg sought her out. You?" Her nose twitches, "No one cried for you when you were gone," it's a lie. Surely her siblings and mother were similarly distraught, though Brookpaw doesn't intend to lead with that. "Yet you made it out. You got to come home - with the help of another Clan's leader at that -" she neglects the fact that Robinpaw didn't even want to come home, "And you don't think you're lucky. Ha..."

Brookpaw leans back, her claws arching into the soft soil. There's scents of other cats, perhaps the guards of the night, stirring. She wrinkles her nose, wondering if it's a missed opportunity to not have brawled with Robinpaw, right there and then. She shakes her head, "Make sure that next time you disappear - you stay that way, got it?" Brookpaw stands for a few moments longer, willing to allow Robinpaw her own jabs and hisses.​

 

[robinheart]

Shame builds within Robinpaw's gut as Brookpaw's grimace morphs into something akin to disgust. As well spoken as the tortoiseshell apprentice attempts to be, it will never be enough to satisfy the grieving denmate putting her on trial. How infuriating it must feel to be saddled with guilt for past mistakes and have another point said mistakes out once more - demanding what? Repentance? - only to be met with nothing but a shaky defense. Robinpaw won't give into Brookpaw's tactics. She knows she can't allow others to bully her, even when the little voice in her head is begging her to just do as the older apprentice asks.

It is all too easy to feel icy fear trickle down her spine as Brookpaw closes the gap between the two apprentices. She is a breath away and alarm bells are ringing in Robinpaw's head. Fight or flight instincts rouse and for a split second Robinpaw feels as if she is trapped in the twolegs' house again - trapped in a corner as the red collar is fastened around her neck, hissing and swiping until angry red marks well up on hands intending good but causing her insurmountable stress. Claws slowly unsheathe as the memory plays, sinking into the ground beneath her, locking her in place as Brookpaw berates her in a low, laughing tone. 'No one cried for you when you were gone,' hits her like a ton of bricks. Robinpaw releases a shaky breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, a softly hiccupped "Oh..." punctuating the emotional release as she struggled to hold back tears. Certainly Brookpaw could be lying, but Robinpaw had no way to know in the moment - she had been gone after all. Taken for being a fool, returned for unfounded assumptions, and now interrogated for it all. Why did StarClan allow her the ability to return home but not do the same for Buckgait? Wouldn't Buckgait have more to offer them anyway?

Wasn't Buckgait truly more valuable than Robinpaw?

"Make sure that next time you disappear - you stay that way, got it?" Brookpaw concludes, her finality in tone and speech paired with settling back out of Robinpaw's face gave the apprentice a chance to properly think. The desire for guards to split them up has faded despite the distant rustling of bodies. No, Robinpaw wanted Brookpaw to stay for a moment longer. She wanted... wait, needed, the other to relinquish the upper hand and understand that what she was doing wasn't right. Even at the cost of her waning pride.

Watery eyes swell with tears enough to overflow, dampening cheeks and leaving two pinprick splatters by her multicolored front paws. "There won't be a next time," Robinpaw whispers with a shake of her head, looking to the older apprentice with a pained expression. "I was foolish and I made a mistake. I took a chance at escaping and it was successful. But again I was foolish and made a mistake thinking Cicadastar would not accept me back. To say I am lucky would be minimizing what I have done and the repercussions I now face," neither of which Robinpaw is willing to do. Stubbornly she lifts a paw and swipes at the wetness clinging to her cheeks, trying to erase it while bolstering some deeply hidden confidence. "I am here. And I am doing all that I can to earn my place back here. I will not put that at jeopardy and I will not allow you to put that in jeopardy either," she adds with a subtle hiss, a slight rise in emotion as her tail tip flicks once then ceases. She makes no further moves to intimidate Brookpaw - she will not stoop to the other's level. Robinpaw lacks the physical strength and prowess to brawl with Brookpaw, but she does allow herself to muster up one verbal jab to try and put the other in her place.

"I don't know why twolegs sought out your mother. I don't know why she hasn't made it out and returned home. But I do hope one day she will make her way back to her mate and her children and her friends," Robinpaw continues, slowly easing her way back to her paws and staring at Brookpaw with an unreadable expression, "and I hope she learns of this night, of the hurtful things you have said, and I hope she feels nothing but shame towards you."