[gs29513]

Deadoon listened relatively impassively as Twilightstar rattled off the instructions for where different groups would be going, and what the groups would be. There was some finagling with which medicine cat would go where, for some reason Dawnstar wanted Lightningstorm? but once that was sorted out it seemed as though everything was set. They had yet to head out (the sooner that happened the better probably, Wolffang seemed to have found himself in a brief tete a tete with a Shadowclan warrior) but Deadmoon made her way towards Hawkfur and her brother anyway. It was nice to be with him, if only for the knowledge that she would know what was happening with him in real time.

He would be fine. Deadmoon should really be more concerned about herself, as unaccomplished in battle as she was. Wolffang was far more likely to be saving than needing to be saved. He was going to be completely, totally, wholly safe. This was evidenced by the fact that he was given an apprentice to be responsible for. Twilightstar trusted him, so she should too. But.....Deadmoon was still concerned. Rationality wasn't a familiar concept to her, and all she could think about was Wolffang being dead, at the paws of a fox, trying to protect others. The minks...they had no honor. They might not be as dangerous as a cat individually, but there were many of them and they didn't care.

It was only fair, she supposed with an ounce of detachment all too common when she was in her rambling thoughts, it was only fair of the minks and foxes to try and kill them. They were here for the purpose of their indiscriminate extermination, after all. However that was only because the minks were causing problems. But they weren't flat-out trying to kill all of them. This sort of ethical conundrum was fully unwarriorlike, and she did her best to eliminate it from her head. The minks weren't even cats. What did it matter? They ate rabbits and mice and such all the time, though they did so more....respectfully she supposed. They thanked Starclan for the prey, and wouldn't gloat the way they would once the minks were defeated. Ugh. Stupid brain giving her unhelpful things to think about. Deadmoon returned to the present, with cats milling all about, just in time to look up into the face of Pipsqueak.