Robin snorted when Much brought up happiness. Not that he thought it was an incorrect statement, but that he doubted any of them would ever find that particular goal. It used to seem like such a simple equation; marry Marian, settle down, be happy. Much had even had his own equation, mainly consisting of Bonchurch and, Robin suspected, good food. And Eve had come into that, too. As for Marian... well, he liked to think her idea of happiness lined up with his own, but perhaps he was wrong. Neither of them had really said to each other, now that he thought about it. Regardless, every time it seemed like any of them had a shot at that bright ending, something sabotaged it.
Maybe, they were all doomed.
His ire had cooled a few degrees when Much said he was "yelling ridiculous things." "Ridiculous"? How was any of this ridiculous? Still, he was regaining enough sense to recognize that Much was right about taking this out of the corridor, even though he did not particularly care for being instructed like that. Tensely, he strode past Much and into the apartment, tossing the bow case aside carelessly once he was in the living room. He most certainly had not been "flailing" it about, and really had not even noticed that he was moving it; the case did not do much to separate his connection with the weapon, and he often forgot he was holding either.
Much came into the room right after him, and Robin turned to face him, arms crossed. Even just the momentary break from venting was helping him cool off more, but he was still upset enough not to be done with it altogether. "So. Got any other opinions about how I should be feeling? Since, apparently, it's not acceptable for me to be bothered by this."