Ask to Join Silent Ember

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
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Palestar padded back into camp, the faint tang of vole and sparrow clinging to her jaws. She deposited the prey onto the fresh kill pile, her whiskers twitching as the breeze tugged at her pale pelt. It had been a steady patrol, enough to ease the borders of her mind, and now the weight of the day pressed at her shoulders. A brief rest in her den would be well earned.

But as she turned toward the familiar arch of thorns, she caught sight of a small, smoky shape at the threshold. Her steps slowed. "Wolfkit." She greeted, voice even but touched with the faintest note of surprise. He sat there, so still, those orange eyes alight with curiosity yet guarded in their quiet way. Palestar’s blinked as she drew closer, her pawsteps quiet against the earth. 

"Have you come to inspect the leader's den?" She asked, a wisp of amusement threading through her tone. She dipped her head to peer past him at the den beyond. "f you’d like to see, I suppose I could make an exception."

I’m not different. Am I?

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Palestar's appearance didn't come as a shock to Wolfkit, quite the opposite actually, this was her den after all. The dark-pelted tom turned to face her, bright orange gaze moving as high as it could go to meet the mismatched eyes of his leader.

He addressed her with a strangely formal dip of his head and a slightly out of place smile. He didn't feel much need to speak greetings and he asssumed now it wasn't really expected of the tom to greet his clanmates in the assumed kit-like manner that his sisters might. The true oddball of his litter.

A small 'mhm' sound escaped him at Palestar's question, not quite a verbal yes, but a positive vocalization non-the-less. It was true, he had come along to visit the leader's den, in the hopes he'd be able to see it more at some stage in his life, or just to know what it looks like to he isn't taken aback by it in future. Who better than Palestar to show him?

Wolfkit nodded, a bit of enthusiasm travelling into his eyes and that subtle smile that was still sitting calmly on the silvery tips of his face. 

However, Wolfkit didn't make any particular advance first, it was Palestar's den, not his own, he wished for her to be a guide, not an accomplice like his mother was on most of these camp tours that he didn't really need much anymore. Wonder how different this tour will be.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
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Palestar regarded him in silence for a heartbeat, mismatched eyes taking in the way he dipped his head with a composure that felt far older than his moons. No chirped greeting, no fidgeting paws or bouncing tail—only that small, reserved smile. So unlike Sootbounce or Dazzlepaw at his age.

"You don't take after either of your parents." She murmured, voice thoughtful, not quite meant as praise nor admonishment. A flick of her ear dismissed the shadow of memory before she motioned with her tail. "Come then."

She stepped lightly into the den, the scent of bracken and bramble thicker here, shadows folding around the moss-lined nest at the center. Despite her words from before, the space bore a modest dignity of a spartan leader.

Pausing near her nest, she let her gaze fall back to Wolfkit. "It is not much to look at." She said softly. "But every choice I make for ShadowClan begins here. That is what gives it weight.'