How Can I Lead, If I Only Follow? [OPEN]

He awoke with a start. Labored breathing and claws gripping moss. Another dream. Beartooth was hardly ever one to dream, but it seemed that some events were desperate to cling onto his consciousness. Was it pain? Guilt? Which bore more weight in his stone-heavy chest? Being so emotionally inept, he could never tell. And he could hardly heal. Thankfully, he had not slept this night alone. Part of him expected to see Ridgelight as his gaze trailed to the companion snuggled so comfortably into his pelt. But she was no longer here. She was gone, lost to him, and lost to the clan. At his side was the warmth of Harefoot, a friend who had been long-forgotten in the aftermath of the floods. One of the many events he seemed to push aside had been resolved, that pressure no longer a burden on his conscious. He was grateful for this thing and that there was something to cling to. Even if he failed to acknowledge it, the bulky warrior felt a desire for stability crying out so desperately from within. The stone had crumbled from under his massive paws. Blizzardshine was gone. Ridgelight. Hailpaw. His kits. He swallowed back several emotions that he chose not to place as he sucked in a slow breath and gathered himself onto his haunches.

As much as he longed to nestled in next to his friend and forget everything, it seemed the plague of nightmares was relentless. Throwing himself into a patrol sounded far more appealing now. He licked the top of Harefoot's head in a brief farewell before padding out of the warrior's den. It appeared other cats were just now beginning to stir. Eyes slowly dragged across camp and finally settled on the nursery as he searched for Marshstorm. But he paused. Inside that nursery was a kit, one that bore the blood of both him and Ridgelight. He swallowed. Houndkit was being well cared for by a queen. His presence wasn't needed. And even if it was, the tom wasn't sure that he could bring himself to offer it. Beartooth only dwelled for a moment, shaking his head to clear that away and remember his current task. Patrols would be assigned soon and cats sent out. Since he had been an apprentice, Marshstorm had guided him, and as a warrior to his deputy, it was no different now. He sought out the other tabby tom but did not find it. Usually, the tom was up before others, indulging in the night of his Shadowclan roots. It was unusual for him to not be out here. Confusion tilted his head slightly as he settled back in the middle of camp, awaiting some form of instruction.

"Gotcha!" A loud caterwaul split through the clan as a brown tabby slammed into the deputy, his claws sheathed but all the force of his seven moon body behind the pounce. He looked like a wild puff of fur come to life, and he was buzzing with energy. With the blessing of youth, he had no concerns beyond the desire to just burn out the excitable thrill that drove his heart.

It was only after the fact he realised that his victim wasn't the one he'd planned to harrass. "You're not Bushfang... Beartooth? Hiya?"

Ferretnose's early-rising habits were a pain, only for how lonely it made the beginning of her day. She much disliked the quiet contemplation of being alone. She wondered how loners made it, living on their own and knowing very few. She would get dreadfully bored by the very idea of it. She spent her few moments of silence getting a drink before returning to camp and looking at the fresh-kill pile. It was a little low, wasn't it? Had the morning patrols been sent out yet, or did she have time to catch it? She sought out Beartooth's pelt and found it being harassed by an older kit. She couldn't help but giggle a little at the sight of it.

"You've got a burr stuck to you, Beartooth!" she said cheerfully. "You're up early, Stormpaw. Are you here for your patrols too? Which reminds me... who's the dawn patrol leader? Have you chosen yet?"

Mistpaw was always up just before the sun, and today was no exception. "While we're talking, I volunteer to be on the dawn patrol. I hunt best in the morning." Mistpaw wasn't used to consulting Beartooth rather than his father- He supposed he would have to. Change, as annoying as it could be, and inevitable as death, brought in new light. Beartooth seemed to be this new light. This new dawn sure has a lot of teeth and claws, Mistpaw mused in his head. No wonder Depudad wanted him to help lead. He must deal out some powerful strikes in battle. "Honestly, I'd rather it be a given at this point."

The tom could not have prepared himself for another cat to launch to eagerly at him. Despite being a father to kits, both ones he should have done better to adopt and those of his own blood, Beartooth was inept when it came to dealing with youth. Houndkit was the only one remaining from his true litter and the father and son pair hardly spent any time together. Playing with his kit had not even been a thought. Since kithood, he had seldom taken the time to indulge in play. So when Stormpaw threw himself at the deputy, Beartooth instinctively swung around, ready to smack his paw into the younger tom's maw. But just as he whirled around, he recognized the other cat as a clanmate and slowed his breathing, "I don't think battle practice hasn't started yet today, Stormpaw." His voice was it usual gravel-tinged tone although it sounded slightly higher due to the exasperation and momentary adrenaline that had pounded through his veins.

In an instant, cats had begun to gather around him, which he instantly saw as unusual. Moments later the clearing had been sparse and now three clanmates were at his paws. It sounded like they all wanted to know about patrols. Immediately, he heard himself offering to lead the dawn patrol aloud. It was something he could do mindlessly. Most warriors knew their tasks anyways and were easy to hunt alongside. Very few times were there patrols that he needed to make a decision in. But after a moment it finally dawned on him why Ferretnose was pressing him for such information, instead of seeking out Marshstorm like he had just been doing. He was Marshstorm now. Well, in the sense that it was his decision to cleverly craft patrols in order to make sure borders were marked, the clan was safe, and prey was caught. With a glance at the fresh kill pile, he noticed it seemed fairly low. That should probably go first, right? He could go hunting, they check the borders, and they would probably need to hunt in the afternoon too.

"We can all go on the dawn patrol." Beartooth decided, looking at the three other cats, whose expectant eyes were on him. He didn't feel the burn of their gaze, or consider the fact that it would be physically impossible to attend ever single patrol of the day. Nor did he even consider that putting himself on the dawn patrol would mean cats would be wondering around awaiting his instruction. But hunting sounded like a nice way to take his mind off of everything and feed the clan. It was perfect. He nodded towards Ferretnose, as if seeking the warrior's approval on his decision.

Completely unaware of how close he'd been to getting swatted into the sun and stars, the excitable apprentice replied eagerly. "The more I practice, the quicker I'll become a warrior, Beartooth! Bushfang is busy a lot, so I have to get my training in when I have the chance."

Jumping back a few paw steps, he fluffed up his chest to make himself appear bigger and tougher in front of Mistpaw and Ferretnose. He wanted to look cool in front of his sister and the deputy's mate, though it only really made him look even more like a stray, floating bur. Complicated things like patrol organisation and the inner politics of clan life were far from his head.

"I was just going to beg Bushfang to train me, but a patrol sounds fun! You can teach me to bite like a bear, that's why you're called Beartooth, right?" His eyes all but twinkled as he looked up at the deputy, utterly enamoured with the idea of being able to crunch down on bone like the bears from the elder's stories. Though others might have found being in the presence of a deputy intimidating, he viewed it as Beartooth becoming an uncle or sorts. After all, he was his father's number two, which kinda made him family, from how he understood it. And it wouldn't do to be weird around family, though Dustcloud did teach him the whole clan was family so really they were all family before. But that was just complicating things in his head so he put it aside mentally.

Mistpaw glanced at Beartooth in surprise. "All of us? Even you? But- What about the other patrols of the day? With all due respect, I don't think anyone knows about the patrols yet today. I mean, Oakstar could take on that responsibility, I suppose... Ferretnose, do you know anything about a deputy going on dawn patrol?"

Ferretnose bit her tongue as Beartooth suggested the lot of them go out together. Though she did enjoy the idea, it seemed like the deputy hadn't even set up the rest of the patrol for the day. Shouldn't he stay, at least for the morning? Of course, there was always somebody more forward than her, and Mistpaw soon cut in with his own opinions. He was smart, for such a young apprentice, but he was very loud with his remarks.

"Mistpaw might have a point, Beartooth," she said cautiously. "It seems like a good idea to select some senior warriors to lead the next few patrols before you leave, so they can pick cats while we're gone? Maybe check in with Oakstar?" The she-cat smiled sympathetically. It was only his first day, and it was clear that the group had flustered him. The poor tomcat was sputtering.