Quiet Conversations [CLOSED]

(OOC: mobile)

Elmpaw was half-hidden in the opening to the apprentices' den, his dark pelt blending in with the shadows around him. His eyes were bright, a pleasant forest green that hid a turmoil of emotions. The tom was watching the rest of camp but not truly seeing it, his gaze distant and unfocused. A lot had happened recently. Ashstar was dead. His mentor Brindlewhisker was now Brindlestar. There was much sorrow in the camp, as he was sure there would be for quite some time.

He was never that close to Ashstar, but from what he could tell, she was a kind and thoughtful leader. She allowed him to change his name when he got his overdue apprentice ceremony, which was much better than anything he had hoped for. He wasn't entirely sure he'd even be accepted back into the Clan after what he'd done. He blinked, his eyes refocusing to peer at the leader's den across the camp.

He should pay Brindlestar a visit. She must be struggling with all the changes that had come up lately. Any cat would, it was a lot. So far his training was going fine, albeit a little slower than the other apprentices. But he was making progress and that's all that mattered. Elmpaw respected Brindlestar immensely and, admittedly, was worried about her.

After a moment of arguing with himself whether or not he should go see her, he finally heaved himself to his paws and limped across camp. The tortoiseshell poked his nose carefully into the entrance to the den, peering inside to try and see if the leader was there.

"Brindlestar?" he called softly, taking in the mottled scents of both his mentor and the former WindClan leader Ashstar. It was so muddied that he couldn't quite tell how fresh Brindlestar's scent was. "Are you in here?"

Upturned soil and freshly arranged mosses and heather effectively erased what little of Ashstar remained.

Even now, as Brindlestar remained curled up within the heavy shadows of her predecessor's den, she could hardly catch a single inhale of the former Leader's scent. It was moments like this where the desolate sense of loneliness was nearly overbearing, and the physical detachment from her Clanmates hardly helped quell such despondent emotions. Pressing her face tightly into her stationary paws, the Leader's breathing was muffled as she tried desperately to quash the irksome turmoil within her. Leaders are supposed to be the living representation of wisdom, strength, and divinity among the living! How could she be so caught up in such melodramatic behaviors?

The sound of familiar, yet uneven, pawsteps went practically unnoticed in the low moment. Exhaling a short, exhaling sigh that was greatly deaden by the thick layer of flesh and fur she was currently buried nose-deep in, her eyes only opened at the sound of a voice just outside of her den. Elmpaw? For a moment, she was rather startled by the sound of her apprentice's voice, plagued by countless different scenarios. Did he need something? Was something wrong? Reluctantly pulling her face away from the enticing shield of her paws, her pupils dilated greatly as she searched for the shadowed from of the young tom. "Elmpaw, is something wrong?"