a hunting excursion

Powerful shoulders made their way through the clan's clearing, golden green hues appearing bored yet glinting with predatory alertness. Things had been quiet since the gathering, but thanks to Singestar's pathetic little display, he wasn't certain how long it would last. He understood why she had insisted on heading towards the accursed meeting despite her illness. StarClan knew that she'd been sick long enough, yet evidently stubbornness enough to cling on without losing a life still coursed through her. Or so he had to assume. This... strange affliction of hers would prove even more dangerous if she was still somehow ill and losing her lives because of it. No. She had no doubt retained her lives throughout this, and she wanted to let Fallowstar and his band of coral lickers know that despite this setback EmberClan was strong and ready to fight.

And yet Grayflame couldn't help but feel as if there had been more damage done to their image by this venture than if she'd stayed back. Sent a band of warriors in her place. Hell, even lie about the whole thing. Tell ShoalClan that Singestar merely couldn't be assed to come meet with them, finding no need to speak to Cliffstar's murderers. It would have been problematic, yes. But it would have radiated power. Reckless, misplaced brawn, but one that could be wielded with ease the moment their enemies decided to step a toe out of line and test their convictions and their strength. But now? The deputy felt far from at ease. He couldn't help but feel as if Singestar's condition had left them looking vulnerable and open to attack. It was almost enough for him to suggest they strike first, if only to put those miserable doubts as to the clan's robustness at rest.

It was only through his respect of the chain of command and his loyalty to the frankly insufferable torbie that he remained irritably quiet, albeit in dire need of a distraction. One that would not jeopardize his watchful eye making certain nothing came of his concerns. As such, when a voice called out to him, coaxing his focus on something other than his need to shred a few ShoalClan pelts by the border, he found himself welcoming it, his stern frown turning to the smoke tabby that approached him. The sound of a hunt, while nowhere near the explosion of fur and claws he was in such want for, might just prove exactly what he needed. Besides, the clan could always do with more food. And perhaps this small, impromptu socialization would prove to Silverpelt that there was nothing to worry about as far as his closeness - or lack thereof - to his clanmates.

"Yes. A hunt sounds acceptable," Grayflame rumbled, one tufted ear twitching in thought. "Have you news of clusters of prey in the area, or shall we track as we move?"

You see? Despite the silver she-cat's claims, the deputy was more than capable of providing conversation that proved he both cared and was interested in what others had to say. He most certainly cared about news of mass amounts of prey in the area, as outside of birds nesting or resting their heads mid migration, schools of fish gathered close to the shore, or any other number of reasons prey congregated to a singular spot, he could hardly understand much need for team hunting. He was interested, because such cooperative work was imperative, however, for bigger groups. A singular cat could only catch so much before the rest scattered. On the other paw, a pair of cats could ensure it wasn't a wasted effort. And all this while making sure to not delve into the unimportant, keeping all information traded to sensitive, necessary chatter. He would very much like to see her complain about his socializing skills now.

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marsh [Cinderfang]