Rest Your Crown [c]

It had been quite the journey. Both there, and her return home. All of it had left her with so many conflicting emotions, so many thoughts that filled her head. It was sorrow that had filled her for most of the journey there. Sorrow at lost time in training for her role in the position of deputy, sorrow at practically having lost her mate to illness. The sorrow of mourning a leader having to move on from their star-vowed duty. It was oddly solemn, something that she herself had thought wouldn't be the emotion to any cat going to receive the gift of nine lives from their ancestors. Yet, there the small tortoiseshell had been, stricken with grief.

That emotion had changed on her way home. Rejuvinated, even slightly amused. It was to her complete surprise that she had found a friend along the way back, well, not exactly a friend, but one of the few cats who knew the exact pain she had just endured. That encounter had made her journey home finally progress faster, made it much more bearable.

Though finally, she had arrived home. The woodsy scent of Thunderclan's territory was a welcoming blanket that enveloped the molly. It quickened her already-tired steps as she pushed through, practically charging on some odd second surge of energy to camp. Luckily for her, the sun had yet to rise, and there was one particular thing she had to look forward to. Comfreyheart, her adopted daughter, having been put on duty to keep her company when she returned. It seemed a little silly - being forced to keep the company of the leader. But anyone who knew Mottlestar, knew it made sense.

She had spent her entire life in the company of other cats in the evening. Though with Minnowfin's illness, she had been left alone. It bothered her much more than she could admit, and was why she had asked the onyx warrior to complete the task. Her steps finally slowed as she entered the camp, giving a silent nod to whoever happened to be on guard during the evening, before making her way straight to Highrock. Her den.

The leader's den.

Everything in her wanted to hesitate at the entrance, to turn around and leave it behind. But there was no doing that now. Instead, she fored herself to go forward, only to be welcomed by the loveliest gifts. It instantly brought a smile to her maw, and had she not been so tired, the leader might have cried with gratitude. "Comfreyheart, aww... You didn't have to do this for me!" Mottlestar purred, quickly going to settle in next to the molly. "Thank you, so much." Her voice was quiet, soft with the evening, as if she would wake the cats who slept away from her. But it was full of warmth, of joy. She knew she had picked the right cat for the job, to be her 'welcoming commitee.'