Takes place the night of this topic; Wrenspring has not yet been found
Wisps of ghastly clouds were entangled with the stars, shielding the SkyClan camp from an almost full moon. Hazy shades of black, blue, and gray filled the sky, casting light shadows against the thin trees that so vigilantly protected their bone-dry camp. A ginger coat shone silver in the obstructed moonlight, blotchy pelt leaning onto a sloping tree for support. A sudden cloud drifted in the sky, allowing the moon to shine down. Redfall squinted and shifted to the side as the silvery glint entered his retinas. He was hardly more than a ginger scrap of fur since the incident with Wrenspring. After he had come to his senses about what had happened,
what he'd done, the tabby avoided entering camp. He had cleaned up the blood in the River, fortunate enough not to run into any patrols, and navigated near the Twolegplace. It was risky considering SkyClan's current Twoleg problem, but it also meant no one would find him. From a quick glance in the warriors' den, Wrenspring remained unfound. That was good and bad.
Forest green eyes regarded the night sky with some belligerence.
"You... don't care. How could you?" Although it was still deep in the night, Redfall was not willing to take the chance of someone out for a midnight walk, and lowered his voice to a whisper. Dropping his gaze, glittering eyes flickered around the camp. Everything was peaceful, in a stark contrast to everything around them.
This world is changing, at least for me. He had banished the thought of attacking Wrenspring from his mind in the hours of sunfall, but they began to creep up on him.
What have I done? What should I do now? Will I be punished? It was undoubtful a patrol would be sent out to the Great Ridge the next morning. Wrenspring would be found... with
Redfall's scent and fur wreathed around him. The gray and white warrior would be able to give a recount of the attack, and it wouldn't look good for him. No doubt an exile of some sort would be arranged.
The tabby's crystallized breath hung in the air, floating towards the camp entrance. He watched as it faded away from the camp, stone-faced as he contemplated his options. After just a few minutes, the answer was clear. It was the surest decision he had ever made, certainly much more so than when he had foolishly fought in the battle with Swansong. Redfall's eyes swept around the camp. Once, he had looked around with pride... But now, only the bitter taste of vomit and blood was there. The weak cats of the medicine den, the elders, the kits, the queens. They would have to fend for themselves for the rest of the night that left.
They'd be better off without me anyway. SkyClan would be. Wrenspring sure would be.There was a certainty in his mind as he spoke softly,
"I can't do this anymore." Being a warrior. Doing the same patrols every day. Hiding his vulnerability, his irrationality, his cynicism. If they were even hidden. Redfall stared at the apprentices' den and brushed inside, wrapping his feathered tail around his paws as he stared at Firepaw. He wanted to say something,
anything. But he couldn't.
I was never strong enough. I'm sorry, Firepaw. You deserve better than me. Next was the warriors' den. Swansong. The silver and brown tabby pelt was curled up in her nest, peacefully dreaming. She was harder. So much harder. He found the strength to whisper in that.
"Did you know this would happen?" Acidic tears liquefied in his eyes.
"Was it worth it?"Turning around, he stalked out of the den.
"We both know it wasn't, I think," he said, regret tracing the words. He eyed the camp entrance. The first steps out of camp would be the hardest but most vital. Once he was out, he doubted he would be allowed back in. But this needed to be done. Redfall could not stand another second in this toxic camp of memories. Maybe it was just a fresh start. The ground was for once not scorching from the night, and the ginger tabby's paws brushed down gently on the ground as he exited. He refused to look back, forcing himself to keep his chin up and keep walking despite the blurry pricks of tears that started to slide down his muzzle. There were no words that could describe the torrent of emotions that swirled inside the troubled warrior's mind. He just kept walking. It was the only thing he knew how to do. To keep going. Don't look back, don't question your decisions.
I'm sorry, SkyClan. I couldn't-- can't-- be the warrior you need me to be. 
