i'm a broken mirror [c]

Hazy clouds littered the sky, filtering a gauzy cover of light into the ring of trees surrounding the heart of SkyClan. Among the pelts (cat and animal alike) that moved among the camp, the rusty tabby was one of the few standing still. He wanted to do something beyond sitting and waiting for this to end - or for this to become the new way of life, if that were to happen. If his Clanmates began to accept this, if the undercurrent of hostility faded - he didn't know what he would do. Run off and hope to find Sienna, perhaps.

But it seemed that undercurrent would never go away. Redfall's tail stilled from twitching around and he rested his head on his paws. Brooding was the only pastime besides patrols. He could not get the feeling of restlessness to go away. His paws ached to do something alone, as if he could go back to the days where he and Sienna were dodging the large dogs at the edge of the garden, or when he would slip away to hunt as she was nursing the young kits. Speaking of his own kits, three had simply vanished. Three. The tom sighed and took a glance at the nursery. He could pay it a visit, even if just for something to do, or the nostalgia of it. Though he wasn't sure he'd be welcome. The nursery sung with tension after Featherkit's death (and Dawnhawk's heroics, like the tom would do that for any of his kits, if that were the scenario). Redfall thought of Wrenspring for a long moment. He was a father, as of recently, with one of the darker-colored she-cats... Ravensomething. If his friend was out--

Friend. How could he still consider the tom a friend, after everything? After what he had done? They hadn't talked much. Or at all. That, Redfall decided, needed to change. He lifted into a sitting position, reclining on his haunches as green eyes searched for Wrenspring's pelt, and finding it quickly. He was just entering the camp, trailed by the peltwearers, of course.

Redfall did not get nervous much. He often didn't dwell on emotion. This was an outlier from the usual. His steps were filled with hesitation, but determination, he broke into the tom's path with a gentle cough. "Wrenspring... I wanted to say hi."

It felt like too little to fill the silence between the toms. His words seemed to burst out after him, short, left ringing in the air.

"And that I'm sorry."

Equal measures of crackling lighting and howling wind seemed to sing in an uneasy cadence all at once within the tom's mind. Busying his paws or striving to unburden his soul was a never-ending task and one that proved more impossible by the day. Wrenspring was beginning to entertain the idea that a weight wouldn't be lifted until he managed to find an opportunity to share the circumstances of his kit's origins with Wolfstar. Perhaps punishment would atone for the sins. That aside, the warrior had found himself equally overjoyed with the birth of new kits. It was as if the joy of Graybird's birth had multipled tenfold. Somehow his heart contracted and swelled larger than ever before to accommodate a whole new brood of offspring; he loved his kits in the most unyielding manner and that fact seemed to dash away some of the shadow that troubled him.

A weary sigh came from the sides of his maw and around the slender squirrel clutched between his teeth, prompting a curious look from the accompanying Asylum cat. Wrenspring merely shrugged in the mildest response. He'd found that if he did his best to prevent provoking one of their guests, something he was already skilled at avoiding, then the pelt-wearing creatures did little to interfere with daily life. This was one of the things he was grateful for as it helped in providing a small semblance of peace. Anything he could take to whip away thoughts of the recently fallen Skyclan kit. The tom's gaze had glazed over for a moment as he sunk into momentary indulgent thought.

That was until his path was cut short.

Wrenspring blinked in surprise as he digested the scene before him. A flame-coated tom was before him and immediately his pelt screamed with the desire to flee. Clenching his teeth around the squirrel, the seeping flavor of the prey managed to sate such carnal desires for a mere moment. Many moons had passed since Redfall had torn into his pelt but the rake of claws still seemed as fresh as the fallen snow. He wanted more than anything to allow such an unpleasant memory slip away into the cool leafbare night and allow him some level of resolution but such things seemed to cling like snowflakes to a cat's fur. Another slow blink came as he soaked in the words that had presented to him by the prickly tom. This was a clanmate greeting another clanmate, not an enraged shriek from an enemy. Having to remind himself seemed like a burden he didn't want to bear.

A grimace crossed his maw as he dropped the squirrel between them. An apology. It was such a sweet venom, something that struck him and soothed him all at once. Wrenspring stared at the other tom for a moment with nothing written across his features. If he closed his eyes, for a moment he could picture a young Redpaw, hunting at his side as familiar companions. That version of his former friend would have been much easier to digest in this moment but now the tom found himself at an utter loss for words or actions. After a moment his head shook slightly and his whiskers began to tremble, when he spoke, it was a low whisper at first, "I have to tell you, your timing has always been impeccable. Choosing a tired warrior after a hunt is a whole new level of tact."

The flicker of a grin did little to diffuse the heavy tension hanging in the air. A mere declaration of apology after seasons of writhing malcontent between former companions did little to stitch up the fabrics of time. Wrenspring seldom indulged in more lofty matters but this was a rift in his own chest and one that impacted his clan as well - there would be no avoiding this, or rather, it was unwise of him to do so. His younger self would have shied away in an instant, letting the chasm gape even further. Lion's Eye seemed to ring so clearly in his subconscious despite the moonstone having been so long ago, an ever guiding presence. The pair needed to talk and so they would talk.

"What for, Redfall?"

He chose to ignore the quip, ears twitching as he uncharacteristically fidgeted. He never knew how to interpret things of the like. The other tom's slightest grin sparked a half-smile of his own-- until it was replaced with more of the usual stony face the tabby normally possessed. Why had he thought this would be so easy, as if he could say a few words and everything would be back to normal between the two of them? He was digging his own grave, it felt like, and the only thing he could do was continue.

"You know what I’m talking about," Redfall said, though his voice wasn’t angry, just quiet and tired. Wrenspring wanted him to say it. "I’m sorry for attacking you, and then leaving you and the Clan behind, and then having kits with a loner." Blunt as ever. His gaze didn’t drop, and his voice was steadier than he felt. His whiskers twitched. Maybe the way he’d said it had been wrong. Hopefully the monotone voice wasn’t mistaken for lack of emotion.

"Yeah." Wrenspring breathed. It became a soft sigh, dissipating into the frigid atmosphere. He found himself shaking his head slightly as his tail flickered and instinctively he settled onto his haunches. Finding the right words was near impossible. A foreign sensation washed over his pelt, ranging from a sweeping numbness to some prickling of the coat. Moons of grief and torrential anguish that had once seemed to have dissipate was dredged up. Claws dug unintentionally into the earth, "I wish it was easy to forget it all, you know? For things to be like when we were ignorant young kits."

For a second, his eyes turned, gaze drifting over the myriad of scars along his pelt and the crooked tail that flickered ever so slightly back and forth. Once upon a time the tom's fur had been unmarred - a pristine gray and white. Looking back to Redfall, the warrior began to digest the sight of his russet-pelted clanmate. Together as kits they were so naïve to the grander world and what came with it. Life was untainted and flawless, innocent. Sometime along the way their paths had diverged. It was hard to tell where the line split when everything was so blurred by time. Neither had come out unscathed, such things were impossible. Redfall was no the only one with an apology to make.

Decidedly, Wrenspring tilted his head slightly, looking to the skies, "I'm sorry as well - for not being the friend that you needed through it all." For a moment, his teeth clenched, allowing himself to feel the full extent of his own failures wash over him. It didn't diminish nor defend the actions of the other warrior but it made him sympathetic in some way, allowing him to recognize the genuine nature of this attempt. No matter how small the step it was still a step, "There is no was to repair the past, Redfall, but perhaps we can amend it." There was a minor flicker of his paw as he pushed the prey forwards and to the tom. Instinctively, he wanted to flinch, remembering the score of claws. But that was now simply a series of scars that had healed as the moons stretched on.

"What do you say, dawn patrol tomorrow?"

Wrenspring understood. "I'm... sure our perspectives of that day are much different," he sighed. His claws had been controlled by a misguided anger and hate. Wrenspring, possibly by a misguided loyalty. Perhaps it was his own brash, irrational young mind. Not that he'd grown out of those traits, but they were not as large a problem as they had been in previous days. The ginger-coated warrior let his haunches sink down until he was sitting. It was a more natural position. It made him feel less confrontational.

"It was a choice, and we chose differently," Redfall murmured, gaze drifting to his paws. His voice became silent as he tried to figure out what to say. Words seemed too little for this. "I don't know what was the right decision. I don't think things are black and white. I know I messed up, though." And I want to fix things between us, but I don't know if that can happen, and I don't know if I'm doing this well.

Startled green eyes jerked up as prey touched his paws, and to a lesser extent at Wrenspring's words. His friend's words, he wanted to say. Wanted to think it was okay to believe. If only things could be so simple as the day they'd met. How easy it was to declare someone a friend, and a friend they became. A light, surprised smile grew on his maw as he raised his eyes up to the gray and white tom. A genuine smile.

"I'm down."