[TheNyanCatMinecart]

~ WOLFFANG OF WINDCLAN - AMAB HE/HIM - BEEFED UP TIER 1 ~

Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light cream-gray fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.

Character bio can be read here.

After everything that had happened to her, Bravebird was still as perceptive as always.

Though shouldn't that be the case for every warrior?

There was no doubt she heard his pawsteps; Wolffang was a large cat, heavy not from fat - he was rather lean, actually - but from his bulging muscles. He wasn't trying to sneak up on her, either. As nervous - and regretful - as he was, Bravebird was a Clanmate. There was no need to approach silently. No, his steps had been very casual. But this didn't feel casual. When her lilac-gray ears pricked, Wolffang felt a frog leap in his stomach. It was a funny feeling. Not his favorite, but not entirely unfamiliar, either.

Bravebird was sitting up in the blink of an eye. Speaking of eyes, those blue ones... they seemed to bore into his soul. Gone was the comfort. The admiration. The friendliness. They were as blunt as a newborn's muzzle.

And her muzzle was moving, seemingly to say something, but then she... stopped. Kept looking at him.

It took a tremendous effort for Wolffang to keep his gaze fixed on her instead of moving it elsewhere. It was like keeping his paw pad pressed against a burning patch of grass. A million frogs were leaping in his belly now, accompanied by a battalion of butterflies and a lot of tickly grass. One of those frogs had jumped into his throat. It must've been real thirsty, too, because it had sucked every scrap of moisture like a beached leech.

I remember you.

The words startled Wolffang more than he would've liked to admit. Thankfully, he didn't jump or jolt. He only blinked and forced his eyes to remain on Bravebird's. She remembers me... At first, joy welled within him, temporarily drowning the frogs and the butterflies. She remembers me. All those wonderful moons together hadn't disappeared. Maybe...

I was starting to wonder what had happened to you.

The leeches sucked all the water away again.

She remembered him. How, he wasn't sure. Her memories had been lost. Maybe... maybe seeing him around had awoken something within her? Maybe StarClan had chosen to show her some kindness and restored what she had once known?

All the more reason for her to hate him for avoiding her for so long.

Guilt churned inside Wolffang once more.

It was only amplified as Bravebird continued to speak, those blue eyes no longer blunt but edged with a sharp claw of hurt. Suddenly, he wanted to apologize again, to beg StarClan to go back in time so he could fix this.

But the past was the past. Like he'd done so many times before, Wolffang would own up to it.

And he wouldn't let the pain drag him down.

...Although I suppose if I'm to truly be angry I should reserve some of that for myself. A chuckle from her.

Wolffang blinked again.

Wait, what?

None of this was Bravebird's fault. She'd been recovering from being dead, recovering from memory loss... He should've approached her. It was his responsibility, not hers.

Right?

But she seemed to have relaxed, accepting the rabbit and even motioning for him to join her. Something unwound inside Wolffang. Nothing huge, but enough for his tense shoulders - wait, they'd been tense? He hadn't noticed, but it wasn't surprising - to relax a bit. He settled beside her, keeping a respectful distance. The sight and scent of the rabbit made his stomach recoil as if hit by a physical blow. Nope. Not ready for that yet.

Bravebird was already launching into Cowtuft's exile. Wolffang winced a little bit as he remembered that misunderstanding. At least she didn't seem so upset about it anymore. And she was completely right. The way the Clan had pounced on him... the way Littleshock had pounced... His claws slid out and dug into the fresh green grass.

But negligence on that scale was certainly punishable. Wolffang knew he'd messed up before, but on much smaller terms. Twilightstar had demoted him; he'd deserved it. And before then, he'd hurt and judged cats for ridiculous things. But he'd never done something as horrific as poisoning multiple cats. Cowtuft hadn't meant it, but he'd known the poison was there. He was responsible. He'd deserved the exile.

And now Bravebird was asking him how he was. Wolffang could tell she was guarded. That wasn't surprising. Yet the words she spoke... It was a tempting remnant of their past together, dangling.

Now it was his turn to speak. He knew what to say, but in what order?

Wolffang decided to answer her question first.

"Well... I'll admit, for a while I wasn't doing well. A lot of past memories... a lot of past guilt... it resurfaced and hindered me. But I've gotten past that now, and I'm as determined as ever to be present for my Clan and all those I'm close to. For Cowtuft's exile... well, when I first heard about it, I thought someone had snuck something into the herb stores to poison them, which is why I called for demotion. Then someone translated his paw signs, and... well, Cowtuft knew about the poison and didn't tell anybody. I still don't think he did it intentionally, but that was certainly worthy of exile."

For a heartbeat, he tried to find words. Any words at all.

"...Bravebird, I... it's not your fault. Not at all. I don't know what you've been through, but I know you came back from the dead without your memories, and - you can correct me - you had to recover them. It was my responsibility to approach you, not yours. I should've been there for you. But I wasn't. Duty, demons, cowardice... a temporary excuse, maybe, but not for the period in which I avoided you. And for that, I am truly, truly sorry. I completely understand if you're upset. You should be. But... but I'd like to make it right."

Wolffang realized that, at some point during his monologue, he'd turned his gaze to his paws. Now he forced it back onto Bravebird. It felt like claws were clenching his stomach and chest, bringing burning pain to his eyes. So much lost time... so much they didn't know about each other... and it was his fault.

He'd understand if she remained wary. If she didn't want to reconnect.

And yet he desperately hoped they would.

Can I make this right? Or is it too late?

Well, there was something else he could say. She'd asked him how he was. He should reciprocate that.

"...What's happened since you returned? How have you been? You and your family?"

@taillow