Undergrowth crunched under the paws of the three RavenClan warriors as they walked back to camp. The tension was thick between them, as if everyone wanted to start yelling about the events that'd just happened but no one knew how to start the confrontation. Elmfur dragged his still wet paws through the twigs and leaves, scrunching up his nose at everything sticking and getting tangled in his fur. Witheredheart had taken the lead once again, her whiskers twitching with frustration. Whiteface trailed behind while carrying the scrawny squirrel in his jaws, not really wanting to be apart of whatever argument was bound to start. Witheredheart might be strikingly young for a deputy, but she refused to let any cat, young or old, step out of line without a few words.
As they neared camp, Elmfur raised his head a bit, starting to move quicker to try and escape from a lecture. Alas, before the entrance could appear Witheredheart stopped in her tracks, nearly causing