Briarface padded through the camp with a mouse dangling from her lips, staining her lips red with its blood. She had just been out hunting by herself, and while she was out she had caught scent of a couple foxes. It seemed stale enough, but she figured that it was still worth informing Nightstar. After dropping her mouse in the Clan's less-than-full leafbare freshkill pile, the young brown tabby padded over to her leader's den. She peered around the corner and called out, "Nightstar? Are you busy?" She then waited patiently at the corner of the den's entrance for a response from the leader.
Once Nightstar came to see her, Briarface lowered her head in a formal greeting. "I was out hunting just earlier, and I caught scent of what was probably two or three foxes," she told the black she-cat. "It was probably a couple days old, so they could very well be gone by now, but I thought it was worth mentioning to you."
Wolfheart was studying the young warrior very carefully. She just got back from a hunting patrol earlier but her slightly timid scent alerted the Deputy. Leaning in a bit to eavesdrop, the brown tortoiseshell, to her disappointment, couldn't really make out any bits and pieces. With a bit of a distressed look, she waited patiently outside of the den to hear what the two cats had to say.
The Deputy didn't flinch externally though a slight jolt of awkwardness rushed through her veins. "Er, I was just curious as to what may be so important" she meowed. "What may be going on?" she questioned half perplexed and the other half with curiosity. She padded closer to the den so she wouldn't seem as out of place.