A slim but tall dust colored tom sat quietly at the edge of the Leader’s den, surveying the busy camp with a pair of deep green eyes. There was a veil of mystery that covered the leader’s usual stern expression. A call for a new deputy had yet to be answered and Thistlestar knew it was causing waves of confusion and tension among the camp. Many suspected that the leader was being too picky, prolonging the decision due to the lack of candidates, but the leader had the very opposite issue. There were many cats who had proved to be best suited for the position, leaving the tom rather conflicted.

After already meeting privately with many of the eligible warriors, the leader found himself more conflicted. There were so many cats who easily take over as the new deputy and do the job well, but something in the leader’s gut told him there was something missing. After nights of private prayer, Thistlestar continue his search, but no no avail. The frustration in the leader only grew more as the days passed and he found himself instinctively secluding himself from his clan mates. Today was going to be different though and Thistlestar was going to make sure of it by giving himself a much needed mental break from searching.

The tom rose to his paws and began to make his way into the heart of camp. He nodded respectfully to passing cats, occasionally offering a small side smirk before his usual serious expression would resettle. His green eyes scanned around the clearing for moments before ultimate falling on the camp entrance. His muscles tingled with anticipation for a much needed walk.