It was immediately and without question that Screefoot fell into the patrol, although she let Pearpaw ahead of her, figuring that it was best to let the apprentice travel near her mentor in case he had any lessons for her. As soon as they left the camp her nose was twitching with the effort to take in all the scents around them, and then to separate and dissect them. Alpine plants that weren't yet ready to blossom. Pine and the sap of other evergreen trees. The very faint but detectable musk of cats who'd gone out in days past for a hunt. And, she found with a shiver, far away, carried on a gust of wind, the rogues that Pearpaw had just begun wondering about. Though Harepaw's smart-alec answer to her didn't surprise her, his reminiscent words did. Carefully––very carefully–– Screefoot glanced behind her at her apprentice. His eyes looked faraway, as if he were remembering something he'd never asked to see. Frowning, she returned her eyes to what was ahead. She herself didn't have any comment; most of BoulderClan had seen things, horrible things.

Amberleaf turned to look over his shoulder at the cats he led. Screefoot gave a short dip of her head while returning her green gaze (and momentarily thinking, [i]What a good-looking tom.[/i]) in a sort of way meant to affirm her loyalty. She was certainly prepared to do whatever it took to keep BoulderClan strong and functional, to protect it from whatever threats might come to it. 

"What do you think the likelihood is that rogues will try to attack us?" she asked him, adding, "Surely a bunch of loners wouldn't go out of their way to destroy either Clan––it doesn't make sense. The risk for them would be far greater than for us." [i]But for a small patrol like us,[/i] she thought uneasily, [i]an ambush would be perfectly realistic.[/i] 

–– 

Burrpelt watched Berrydream pad away with horrible embarrassment and dismay. [i]That[/i] was something he couldn't fix. Although, he reflected, it was better that the warrior think him a little sick or tired rather than useless at talking to she-cats––unless she brought her well-meaning concern to the medicine cat. Burrpelt was not going to let Frostwhisker waste resources on a little case of anxiety, and so an encounter with her would definitely end in him disclosing his little issue. And that, he knew, would be a complete disaster. 

And when Sunflame started to tease him, the deputy knew that today was not going to be a good one in any way. 

He flicked an ear and refused to make eye contact with the golden tom, instead casting a glance at Sharpthorn that almost said, [i]Help.[/i] 

"I don't have time for flirting like you do," he answered, unable to think of a smartass response and instead electing to cover himself. Or try. "I have work to do–– like this border patrol."