head full of doubt (thunderclan's new deputy)

Atalante heard the yowl, shifting and grimacing as she limped her way to the entrance of the den out of curiosity. Moving was... Clearly not the wisest idea at the moment, her long tortoiseshell fur was still disheveled, and the coat of herbs across her broken ribs advertised exactly why. Each breath was still painful, but she needed to do something other than sit in the den all day. She needed to try and integrate herself into the clan, like she supposed her siblings were doing. With Minkstar dead, Atalante needed to secure that she'd be allowed to actually join when her injury healed up. For now she was allowed to stay, but the injury was sure taking a while.

Other cats were gathering at the summons of the brown and white tom standing on top of the rock that was in the center of camp, their attention obviously more focused on him rather than the stranger sitting at the entrance to the medicine den. Fine by her, she was here to listen and watch more than she was to socialize, though she didn't think that whatever meeting this was would be a social call.

The message was brief and simple. It was time to choose a deputy, and it seemed the tom's choice was Minnowfin. Atalante didn't recognize the name, nor did she really care about Starclan (why would anyone care about the approval of the dead?) approving the choice. It seemed like several of the clanners weren't enthusiastic, with several of the younger ones speaking up quite boldly. Atalante stared at the open defiance with equally open surprise.

The tom who stood to accept the position, Atalante recognized after all, she realized. He'd been the voice of reason when that one-eyed warrior had wanted her kill, at least. Supporting him, and by extension, the leader's decision to name him deputy, wouldn't hurt. "Minnowfin, was it? Congratulations. You seemed like a reasonable cat when we met briefly." She mewed, "Rather shameful to speak against a decision one doesn't know about at all, no? I'm sure he's doing what he thinks is best for the clan." She added, tail flicking in the brown and white tom's direction - Stoatstar, another clanner had thankfully mentioned.

His half-lidded gaze quickly disappeared at the immediate yowling following his decisions. Stoatstar was on the verge of unconsciousness, exhaustion from the last couple days had saturated his frame and made him some how wearier than he'd already been with such harsh weather conditions looming over their heads. There were parts of his personality that he'd begun to recognize as poison, like the venom that flowed from an adder's fangs. Minkstar had pointed out on many occasions that he pushed away others and Appledapple had screamed his flaws to his face. Often, he would grumble at sunrise and was quick to judge other cats for their inadequacies.

But no cat had ever dared to call his intellect, dedications, or decision-making into question.

Stoatstar looked down at the apprentice, the one who had become considered a son against his own will. At first, the new leader appeared slightly dumbfounded, confused. There was no doubting the ego and pride the had filled the little brown and white tom at his own abilities. He'd hardly been bested in battle, sharpened his claws on snakes for fun, had served his clan well as a deputy - and his first decision as leader was being questioned by a mere kit. The shock that had been written across his maw turned into a flickering smile. His whiskers twitched and he laughed a sharp, near indignant  laugh.

"I trained Minnowfin myself. Age has never been indicator of ability. If he turns out to be a terrible deputy, we can make the journey to highstones and I'll personally ask Starclan to give my lives over to someone better suited. Maybe a newly named apprentice with all the wisdom in the world." A sly grin crossed his maw. He was too tired to dredge up any anger, quickly reasoning away Softpaw's words at the ill-advised and untamed tongue of a kit. Regardless, he found himself grateful when Appledapple dragged Softpaw away. The clan didn't deserve to deal with that. For all Softpaw spoke of their clan starving, he sure was content to keep his maw occupied with yowling away rather than something more productive. His mentor could help tame that - and Stoatstar would be watching, later.

"I value the input of my clan, when it's well-informed. If we yowl nonsense at each other, we will get no where." Stoatstar meowed, not particularly loudly, as he had never been one to shout from the highrock, "We support each other, it's all we can do, alright? Now, I'm going to rest for the next moon after we get patrols figured out and any cat looking to still question my decision, and Minnowfin's ability, we can, uh... spar or something. Even that would be more productive. For now, we have a clan to feed." His tail flicked and he leaped down from the rock to pad over to Minnowfin. Together they would sort patrols. And then he would rest. It was almost as if he could feel Mottlepaw's eyes staring into his pelt.

A voice was addressing him, bringing his focus to a she-cat, one he'd seen before. He offered her a smile and was about to reply, but the voice of his mentor drew his attention away. Though the words of the leader were reassuring and amusing, the tom couldn't help having a sliver of doubt tucked away. What if he failed? The clan would blame it all on Stoatstar... he couldn't let that happen.

Starlingflare couldn't help the little bit of disappointment he felt when it wasn't his name called for the position. Part of him wanted the spot, to make Thunderclan better along side Stoatstar, but he knew at the same time Leader wouldn't choose him. Though.. Minnowfin did make a good choice. The tom was willing to do what was needed for Thunderclan, he just needed... a push in the right direction, and him being young Starlingflare was perfect to help guide the young tom in the direction.

Of course some others of the clan didn't think there was potential there. He was about to stand, to shout back at those who questioned the new leader's choice, but he bit his tongue as soon as Stoatstar spoke. Everyone else was already on top of the situation. The dilute tom let out a sigh, before disappearing to the Warriors' den. He needed some sleep.