Smokefern
|| She/her || 35 Moons || Warrior ||
The casual levity that Smokefern had carried herself with sapped away at Mosstangle's response. She tried brushing her tail against her friend's, a small touch made out of concern. It was clear something was wrong with the usually more upbeat tabby, though was this about Blackjaw? Or maybe something happened with her apprentice? Stars, it could really be anything.
"What's on your mind?" Her voice was quiet, the humorous hints replaced with notes of concern. She followed Mosstangle's gaze towards the camp entrance, and let out a soft hum. Sometimes the camp was never private enough.
"Want to walk and talk about it?"
( @namen_roodles -Mosstangle)