Screefoot closed her eyes for a moment to steel herself against the younger cat's irritability. It was not a good thing for her, to wake up and immediately go speak to the second-most irascible cat in all of BoulderClan (the first being Roseclaw), and she knew that as a mentor she was going to have to resist losing her temper with Harepaw. If she did, the consequences could be permanent. So, for now, all that showed her annoyance was a twitch of the end of her tail as she opened her eyes. To further calm herself before she spoke she lifted her paw and licked it a couple of times. 

Briefly her eyes followed Amberleaf as he crossed the camp and headed for the leader's den. He had glanced in their direction at Harepaw's outburst, and she'd had the faintest glimmer of hope that whatever important business he had to discuss with Boulderstar, the deputy might put that on hold to help her get Harepaw into shape.

He did not. 

"Listen," said Screefoot gently. "I know that it's a lot to get used to, this new Clan life––but I've been given a responsibility to teach you, and you have been given a responsibility to learn. If you don't want to take lessons from me, fine, I understand, but in that case you are going to have to join me on the next hunting patrol so you can at least practice your skills. Does that sound like a good compromise?" she asked, bracing herself for more venomous words. 

–––

"I would be honored if you led the patrol," answered Burrpelt. Secretly, he was relieved that he wouldn't be required to lead the patrol, for he was tired from his hunting. He appreciated Oakstar's demeanor, felt that he was a worthy leader indeed, and decided quietly that if he were ever to become the next leader of OakClan, this was the cat to model his leadership from. 

He swiveled his ears toward Sharpthorn at the large cat's approach. The old part of him, the part that was still in the mode of searching for the next barn, made Burrpelt tense at the warrior's size and involuntarily think, [i]He could easily kill me.[/i] Quickly he shook these thoughts away. He was an ally, a valuable one, and deserved his trust. When he asked if he had scented him while training his apprentice, Burrpelt nodded. "That was me," he confirmed, faintly surprised––he'd thought he was the only one to wake early to leave camp. 

"I would be happy if you would join us," he added, but didn't definitively say yes or no; that was Oakstar's job. One thing was certain: in the unlikely event that there would be conflict at the border, Sharpthorn would be a valuable and intimidating addition to their patrol.