Between training Birchpaw to take on full, unmentored weaver duties and helping Alderbranch with his own hopes for changing ranks (as well as her own duties and her family), Lichenflight hasn’t gotten much time to hassle Wispfang into a better mood. But, that certainly did not mean she didn’t hear things – like how her good friend, Briarpelt, had paired him up with Mothdapple for a patrol a while ago.

And, perhaps her curiosity with that went, coupled with the tom’s thoughtful quiet that has spanned from the camp entrance until presently, that means she’s not paying attention like she should. No, her focus is on the young seal-point, a bit of crooked grin teasing at her muzzle as she keeps in a step a stride behind him.

Like he knew her, like he could sense it – which, honestly, made her feel a touch of almost maternal warm at such a sign of familiarity – he spoke up as she started to open her mouth and start prodding at him. Her teeth clicked shut as he turned to her, but Lichenflight didn’t bother to act nonchalant; instead, she gave him a mischievous once over.

“Nope,” She pointedly popped the ‘p’ sound, quickening her steps to bump shoulders with the warrior on her good side, “Ah was distracted by t’is ‘pprentice o’ mine – ya migh’ kno’ ‘im, han’some lad tha’ likes t’start fights – actin’ ahll pensive-like fo’ once in ‘is life. Pro’lly won’t tell ‘is favorite menteh wha’s buzzin’ ‘round in tha’ hea’ of his, either…”

“‘S’pose ah could try mah a’trackin’ ‘gain… if’n only mah min’ was eased…” She unabashedly stared at her former apprentice, that grin teasing at her muzzle blooming into view.

(ooc: sensing 7+1 = 8)