Patchpaw meets Duststorm

Patchpaw sighed as she gazed towards the elders den, pieces of moss fell from her bundle and hurried up the pace without giving herself time to think. Then she spoke with a muffled voice "Hello? Duststorm I cam to clean your bedding" she meowed, with no intentions of cleaning the ticks so she had to do it before the elder said so.

Despite it being later in the morning, Duststorm was still sleeping. At the call of the apprentice, his eyes opened slowly. He was curled up in a ball against the cold, his tail draped over his nose. He stretched, making a soft grunt as he did.
"Well, get to it, then," he grumbled in reply, moving just off to the side.

Patchpaw frowned and forced her way through the entrence, digging away the old brittle moss and placed and stretched the dry, green and lush moss. Taking a last glance for thorns she finished up, and sighed, while the other new apprentice sat around she was doing the elders dens, and the nursery and all the other dens.

"Oh, did you have any of the bile stuff?" Duststorm asked, suddenly acknowledging the apprentice. "I'm not positive, but I think I've got some kind of flea or tick problem somewhere."

She let out a distunguished sigh and responded
"I have no bile on me I'll go get some from Icepaw"
she meowed dragging her paws as she headed towards her sisters den, that wave of tiredness finally hit her and her paws began to become sore as she had done alot of den making tick searching and hunting all day.
~ Mini Timeskip ~
Patchpaw soon arrived back mouse bile on the tuft of moss that she held ever so carefully.
"Now, where is the ticks?" she asked her voice once again muffled.

Duststorm mumbled something about how undisciplined apprentices were nowadays when Patchpaw left.

When the she-cat came back and asked him something, the elder replied, "Along my shoulders, I believe." Duststorm shifted so she could reach them easier. "I could tell you a story, if you'd like."

"If you want but I am not really a kit anymore" she slightly smiled and a small opuff of air erupted from her pink nose.

"Well, if you don't want a story, then forget it." The old tom rested his head on the ground and closed his eyes, attempting to relax.