Hunting we shall go (closed)

The dark coat caught his attention first. Marshstorm's head turned at the sudden amount of black in his vision, tension faded from his shoulders as he realised it was just Yinpaw. The tom had been with the clan for a little while now, and he felt trust in those green eyes. A sense of ease despite the origins. He yawned slowly. Without being aware of the time, he stretched and padded over to where Yinpaw and appearently Mothpaw were both resting. He smiled at the sight and dipped his head.

"Mothpaw, Yinpaw. I've chosen you for my hunting patrol." He meowed evenly as he watched their reactions patiently before he padded away and to the entrance of the camp. "Yinpaw... how is clan life treating you?" He asked as they caught up with him. "I expect every cat has been treating you well."

Mothpaw hopped up when she heard what the deputy had said. She began to briskly walk to him, soon catching up. She dipped her head as a formal greeting, then began waiting patiently for Yinpaw and Marshstorm to end their conversation or for Marshstorm to take them out.

(OOC: Out of interest for time, Yinpaw can catch up to them later if the thread hasn't ended.)

Marshstorm padded towards the camp entrance. Giving Mothpaw a small smile as he made his way through the camp entrance.
"Well, it looks like it's just us for now. Let's go to the fallen oak." He suggested, guiding their path through the territory until they reached a large fallen log. Hollowed out through time, and by the abundant animals and insects. He peered inside for a moment, but didn't see any squirrels in the log itself this time, though he likely seemed a funny picture posed on top of the log and looking in upside down. When his head lifted, a bit of moss clung to the dark tom's forhead.
"Well then, let's begin. Show me what you've learned." He suggested with a chuckle as he rubbed the moss off with a paw.