[Fawn]

Tracking the leader of RainClan had not been as horrendously difficult as he'd expected it; though the tom had, by all means, much more experience than Russetpaw would ever hope to have any time soon, the sandy warrior-tom had not exactly been trying to cover up his path through RainClan territory. What propelled the young ruddy tom's paws forward, was a question more of a moral or philosophical nature, which might seem unusual for the apprentice who was usually more interested in battle-glory and seeing as much as there was to see of this world, but that was just everyone underestimating him again.

A leader was more than a brawny warrior with an undefeated streak; they were fair, and they used their brains for more than just battle moves. Russetpaw had learned that the moment Razorfang had become the Clan deputy; his mentor was one of the smartest cats he knew. While there were other intelligent cats and other battle-savvy cats, Razorfang had had the perfect combination that made him such a powerful ally and a terrifying adversary.

So he'd started doing a little thinking of his own.

The handsome, ruddy young tom, so near to his warrior ceremony, felt his muscles, smooth as butter as they shifted into a hunter's crouch upon sighting a familiar pale-ginger pelt. Sandstar! Found you! Rather than go bowling into the older tom like he would've done in his younger moons, Russetpaw stalled, not daring to move as he opened his mouth, scenting the air, listening for sounds of prey animals or anyone conversing with their leader.

The last thing Russetpaw wanted to do was interrupt Sandstar during an important hunt.

Relieved that it did not appear to be the case, Russetpaw jumped over a small, frozen brook, his claws appearing only briefly out of reflex, not wanting to slip on the snowy bank and injure himself in such a stupid manner. Upon crossing it safely, Russetpaw shook the clumps of snow from his dense, deep red coat, lifting his voice in a pleasant greeting, though getting right to the purpose of his visit;

"Hello Sandstar! I hope the hunting is going well - can I talk to you, if you aren't busy?"

[/color]

There had been something bothering him lately, and Russetpaw knew he wouldn't find any peace of mind until he shared these thoughts with someone whose opinion he could truly count on.

[/size][/blockquote]

[Phoenix]

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[atrb=height,221,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/15c48m.jpg] The stark white landscape that RainClan territory became during leaf-bare was beautiful, if one knew where to look. But it was also deadly. Cold winds, which rattled the naked branches and shook snow from their boughs, also froze the rivers and greatly reduced their prey supply. Early in the season, the ice was easy to break, and while it allowed them to catch fish with more ease and success, it also posed a danger of falling in; it was both a blessing and a curse, just like many other qualities of leaf-bare. Looking around, he noticed with mild interest that there was even a beautiful quality to the skeletal trees, as twisted and bare as they were. Perhaps there was some signifance to that, though he did not bother much with meaningful messages like those unless he had nothing else to ponder. While he appreciated the ideals and morals that mothers taught their kits, he had also learned that the world was not governed by them. Leaf-bare did not stop returning year after year, even though it risked the lives of the felines in his clan and posed a threat to their continued survival. In the end, it was probably better that Russetpaw interrupted what he would not even call an attempt at hunting. Much to his consternation, every bit of prey had burrowed deep underground, far out of reach, and hunting land creatures had never been his strength anyway. The small pool of water was frozen solid; so much so that he could walk on it without any fear of falling in. There was no hope for him breaking through the ice. Even then, he would have to paw through the thick blanket of snow that covered it. All of the browns and greens had disappeared in this world of white, and the only color in the world was that of his clanmates' fur and occasionally a blue sky. Everything else was some variation of white or gray, which, on second thought, he supposed was also a color. Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, the leader flicked an ear and took a step forward. "Hello Russetpaw," He greeted, voice equally pleasant. "And no, I'm not very busy right now. Fire away." Though he had never really interacted with the lively apprentice, he had seen him around camp and knew his reputation. With his natural charisma and bright attitude, Russetpaw seemed almost destined to amount to something, and his training under Razorfang had only refined that. Even as he waited for the apprentice to begin, he found himself wondering what Russetpaw wanted to talk to him about. Chances were that it was rather insightful; if it was a simple, every day matter, he did not doubt that the apprentice would either turn to his friends, mentor or mother. The position of leader alone demanded some amount of respect, and part of that respect meant not bothing the leader with minor issues that could be easily solved. Sandstar found himself intrigued, as it was not every day that an apprentice came up to him wanting to start a conversation; what was going on in that intelligent mind of his? OOC: Gah, not a great post. Sorry

[Fawn]

There was a welcomed encouragement that came with having your leader greet you so pleasantly, and the ruddy tom found it easy to summon the courage necessary to voice his thoughts aloud. "It's about StoneClan...and my uncle." Russetpaw explained, walking forward until he was sitting perpendicular to the great sandy tom, meeting his leader's eyes as he allowed the worry to rise to the top like a leaf floating on the water's surface.
"My uncle Salmonfur has always been, even when I was so tiny, really rude about other Clans. I didn't really think much on it or care for a while, but then I started to pay attention - because Clan politics aren't something you can just ignore, right?" A brief shifting of posture, the tom's tail began to bat through the air in an obvious sign of confusion and inner turmoil. He frowned, but continued;
"He says rude things about every Clan but ours - but StoneClan, the stuff he says about StoneClan just seems... Wrong, somehow. He calls them a bunch of fakes, he says they aren't real warriors and that Fallingstar is just a joke, Salmonfur makes it sound like there's supposed to be four Clans in the forest, not five."

What if Sandstar shares Salmonfur's view? What if HE thinks StoneClan is a heathen Clan? Uncle's not the only one who says things like this... Of course there were other cats in RainClan who did not feel a great deal of love towards StoneClan, especially with the fiasco concerning Vultureback and the StoneClan deputy, Falconleap, but somehow the words his uncle, his own flesh and blood spoke seemed to send a chill up his spine and put a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
He felt worried, to have his uncle speak with such vehemence over a Clan of seemingly innocent cats. Salmonfur didn't appear to be wronged by them, either... He just disliked them for reasons Russetpaw couldn't possibly understand.

"We've met StoneClan at the gathering - how could they possibly be a fake Clan? Wouldn't StarClan have said something?" Again that thick red plume thrashed through the air, Russetpaw's ears flattening against his skull, expression one of intense perplexity. "I just feel...bad that my Uncle Salmonfur is being so hateful about them when it feels like he has no reason to be. I can't change his mind, no one can change his mind, I just want to...better understand him, then. Can you help me?"

The cat before him was wise, and much, much older than Russetpaw. Surely he would be able to make sense of this seemingly baseless hatred Salmonfur had for StoneClan? Russetpaw had never dealt with such intense feelings like this, well, that wasn't true - he'd dealt with Cobrapaw, who was proving himself to be quite a problem now that he and Razorfang had...er...told him like it is. But still, it was difficult for such a charismatic, open, friendly and good-hearted tom to see how his own kin could openly project such negative thoughts for no reason at all.

Why did the Clans have to hate each other anyway?

[Phoenix]

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[atrb=height,221,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/15c48m.jpg] When worry clouded over Russetpaw's eyes, he felt his lingering hope for a rather uncomplicated conversation disappearing and a slight anxiety of his own begin to creep toward his consciousness. There were numerous problems that could be rather worrying, ranging from the discovery of another cross-clan relationship - oh please, no - to the lack of prey and the very real possibility of starvation. Though he had no answer for the latter topic, he sincerely hoped that Russetpaw was not about to discuss the former. As a leader, he was obligated to know about these topics, but he would much rather prefer it if his warriors started families within their own clan. But the mention of StoneClan was not reassuring. Until now, he had not realized just how tired he was of hearing that name. He held no grudge against StoneClan, but Falconleap and Vultureback had become the topic of choice ever since StoneClan's former deputy stepped into camp. All around him, the names of the two cats and their neighboring clan were constantly spoken, and though he understood the reason behind the sudden interest, it had not taken long for him to grow tired of his clan's new obsession. Had RainClan always become this fixated on new gossip? Or was he suddenly more sensitive to it now that he had played an important part in the event? A flicker of worry travelled through him at the mention of Salmonfur, Russetpaw's uncle, and for a moment, the dread was overwhelming. But his worries were washed away by a combination of Russetpaw's following words and his own knowledge of the rather opinionated tom. As the apprentice described the situation, he recalled his various interactions with the warrior. Salmonfur had never been subtle with his feelings of superiority over the other clans, a quality that he had little patience for. RainClan, of course, was by far his favored clan for obvious reasons, but in his opinion, that did not mean the others deserved that kind of public disrespect. Though he would have no qualms about stepping on the shoulders of others to better his own clan, he had enough class and courtesy to not go around shoving his opinion in others' faces so blatantly. That was something Salmonfur would do, and it sounded like he only had gotten worse after the Vultureback and Falconleap incident. "I'm glad that you've started paying attention to clan politics," He started off lightly, tail flicking. "They play a big role in how we interact with other clans, so you're right, we can't just ignore them. Regarding Salmonfur..." His voice trailed off. He could think of numerous reasons behind the tom's rather antagonistic words, and none of them were all too comforting. The story that came to mind was one he had not thought of for a quite a long time, and chances were that Russetpaw had not heard it before. Even if he had, it appeared as though the tom had not connected the two, and while the apprentice had come to him for answers, he recognized the importance of remaining neutral to the situation. He would lay out the facts and connect the dots, but it was Russetpaw's job to form his own opinions. "According to legend," He began, picking his words carefully. Details of the story slowly returned to him as he continued, "Only four clans lived by the lake, our previous home: ThunderClan, WindClan, ShadowClan and RiverClan. When those territories became threatened, StarClan sent the leaders of those clans a dream, warning them of the danger and telling them to leave. But this dream also mentioned a fifth clan, one long forgotten and abandoned. This was SkyClan." He paused again in his storytelling. "After a long journey, the four clans arrived here, and they met up with SkyClan, who had already arrived." With his tail, he gestured to the surrounding area "The valley was divided as borders were marked, and soon each clan had their own territory. StarClan decided that the clans were to be renamed in honor of the significant change that occurred. ThunderClan became TreeClan. WindClan became LightningClan, and ShadowClan is now NightClan. Our ancestors were RiverClan cats, just as StoneClan's were SkyClan warriors." He paused, picking his words delicately. "I believe that Salmonfur is referencing this story when he claims that StoneClan cats are fakes. There were originally five clans, but the four aforementioned clans exiled StoneClan, then SkyClan, from their territories. For a very long time - innumerable generations - there were only four clans. Not all cats were happy with the addition of StoneClan. Your uncle seems to be of a similar mindset."

[Fawn]

"According to legend,"[...]"I believe that Salmonfur is referencing this story when he claims that StoneClan cats are fakes. There were originally five clans, but the four aforementioned clans exiled StoneClan, then SkyClan, from their territories. For a very long time - innumerable generations - there were only four clans. Not all cats were happy with the addition of StoneClan. Your uncle seems to be of a similar mindset."

Despite having come to the sandy, highly knowledgeable cat for answers, Russetpaw seemed to have more questions than ever before - but, at least now he could draw a few conclusions. "That's very old-fashioned thinking then, isn't it? But why was StoneClan exiled in the first place? Did they do something wrong? And do you believe in history repeating itself?" The words tumbled out of his mouth like water over the edge of a cliff, a never-ending fall that not even the possibility of tripping over his own tongue could force him to slow down his pace.

So Uncle Salmonfur thinks that there should only be four, just like the old OLD days. But what right does he have to decide who goes and who stays? Wouldn't thinks be strange without StoneClan? But then again...we have four seasons...

"We have four seasons." Russetpaw mewed out loud, voicing his thoughts, ruddy face set in a look of concentration, as though the answer to this funny little problem were mathematical in nature and not philosophical. "But just because we don't like leafbare doesn't give us permission to just get rid of it. It's important, isn't it? Roselight says Leafbare is crucial to Newleaf. She said something about plants and stuff, but I kinda stopped listening after that..."

He managed a weak grin, as though to say 'what can I do? My attention span is only so long', thick tail cutting through the air with an almost leisurely behavior, the tom obviously having relaxed a bit now that he knew the reasonings behind his uncle's crass accusations. So the next time Uncle starts ranting about how StoneClan doesn't deserve to be here, I'll just tell him to go stick his head in the water. Maybe a nice cold bath will get rid of all that hot air? Suppressing a humored snort, Russetpaw suddenly tilted his head a couple degrees to the right, expression almost doglike in his sudden intrigue.
"What do YOU think about StoneClan?"

Considering they were having a pleasant conversation, away from prying eyes and listening ears, it was safe to ask him that, right?

Oh he had so many questions. Just so many questions. Things he had not gotten the chance to ask Deadstar when he'd still been...Alivestar. Sorry, bad pun.

[Phoenix]

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[atrb=height,221,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/15c48m.jpg] "Some cats might take offense to you claiming that their thinking is old-fashioned," He responded lightly, his tone hinting at both a gentle chide and an acknowledgment of a point which which he might not agree. Though at he could still use the insensitive nature of youth as an excuse for a particularly tactless comment, Russetpaw was nearing the age where he would not long be able to fall back on that. Warriors were expected to be mature and fairly courteous cats. They could form their own opinions but understanding when to share them and when keep them close was just as important. Take this situation, for example. As far as he was concerned, the outlook he wanted Russetpaw to take away from this was that he was neutral to the whole situation. Of course, he had his own opinions, but he knew that now was neither the time nor place to share them. He believed that it was part of the role of leader to remain a neutral party and to be able to reassure his clan that he could settle disputes in an unbiased manner. Due to the prestige of the position, his words were no doubt going to be picked apart and analyzed, even they were about something as minor as the weather. By releasing his own opinions, particularly strong ones, into the general public, he would only add fuel to the flames. Having his name tossed around in arguments - "But Sandstar said this..." "You're wrong! Sandstar said that..." - was counterproductive to remaining neutral, to say the least. In the silence that had fallen, he found himself working to find the answer to Russetpaw's question about StoneClan's exile. He knew it. It was frustrating how it sat right on the tip of his tongue, ready to leap out, and yet, he could not remember. Tail tip twitching, he averted his gaze from the apprentice in front of him, insteading choosing to stare blankly at a nearby snow drift as he reached far back into his memory. There was something about being forced from their own territory, but he knew that it was not due to the attacks of other clans. He remembered that because it was an odd point. "Their land became dangerous," He began slowly, picking his words slowly and carefully as he worked to recall the rest of the story. "I cannot say what made the territory dangerous, but I know that they did not leave due to the aggression of their neighbors." As he spoke, the tale came back to him with increasing clarity and ease. "As a matter of fact, they turned to the other clans for help, asking them to divide up the territories again and reset the borders so they could stay in the forest. However the other clans decided against this course of action, and StoneClan was forced to flee." Russetpaw seemed to have an endless stream of questions inside of him, and when they had a chance to escape, all of his inquiries rushed out in a somewhat overwhelming flood. Therefore, it was very easy to pretend as though he missed the last question, which asked for his own opinion. In any case, it did not seem as though the apprentice noticed the lack of a reply. He had fed the younger tom more than enough information to distract him, and Russetpaw had already continued on with his train of thought, making an interesting analogy to the seasons. Inclining his head slightly, he acknowledged the point, yellow eyes back on the apprentice. Silence fell once more. And then-- "What do YOU think about StoneClan?" This would not be so easy to avoid; in fact, he was already of the mindset that he would have to answer this question. Not doing so might do more harm than good, and if he could find a way to answer the question without really answering it, he would be fine. He was more than up to the challenge, for manipulating words had always been an interest of his. Unfortunately, Russetpaw did not seem like the kind of cat who would fully appreciate the web that carefully chosen words subtly weaved. Razorfang, on the other hand, was more than capable of recognizing it. In that case, he would change the topic to one of a more philosophical nature. "I think that StoneClan is what it is," He answered simply, if not somewhat mysteriously. "StoneClan is a clan, consisting of numerous cats who are shaped by their experiences like the rest of us. Is it right to judge a clan based off of the actions of one cat? Is it right to make one assumption and then apply it to the group as a whole, as if every cat is the same?"

[Fawn]

"StoneClan is a clan, consisting of numerous cats who are shaped by their experiences like the rest of us. Is it right to judge a clan based off of the actions of one cat? Is it right to make one assumption and then apply it to the group as a whole, as if every cat is the same?"

As though a chord had been struck at the right moment, Russetpaw's bright green eyes seemed to flash awareness and enlightenment, the ruddy tom watching Sandstar with a new sense of respect. Was it just him, or were there some days where he felt as though Sandstar was a little more than a Clan leader? Almost as though he stood above conflict and things that any ordinary cat would've chosen a side over, would've found difficult or even unpleasant to discuss. Though Russetpaw did not find Sandstar's seemingly elevated position to be born out of some kind of superiority complex, he did partially wonder if Sandstar was telling him the whole truth.

He could be totally biased towards RainClan, and even agree with Uncle Salmonfur and I don't think he'd tell me. Russetpaw felt as though he had somewhat of a grasp of why Sandstar may've chosen this approach to the discussion, but he also felt as though their lofty leader was a bit difficult to reach. He kept his opinions to himself and himself only, it would be foolish to think he'd share them with a simple apprentice such as Russetpaw.

Coming back to the topic at hand, Russetpaw at last made a single sharp nod of finality.
"I agree with you, Sandstar. I just wish Salmonfur was a little less..." Biased? Bigoted? Arrogant? "Judgmental," the tom finally finished, having found the right word.

Letting a comfortable silence momentarily fall between them, Russetpaw felt that familiar calm before the storm - that peaceful moment when he had his thirst for knowledge satisfied, before a sudden barrage of questions all kicked up dust at once, clamoring for attention.
"Can I ask you something else, Sandstar?" He didn't wait for a response - he couldn't help it, not every day did one get the chance to have a one-on-one discussion with their leader. "It's never been a secret that I want to lead the Clan one day, to become Russetstar. What I wanna know is, from a current leader to a future one, is this rank as wonderfully complicated, stressful and rewarding as everyone's been led to believe?"

That was a question that had been hounding him for a while. Though Russetpaw was determined to achieve the rank of leadership for RainClan one day, what the tom could never fully prepare for was just how...exciting, intense and at times boring the job could truly be. He wasn't aiming so high for the sake of glory, no, he wasn't that kind of tom. He was aiming high for the sole purpose of being able to help his Clan. If this job was somehow lacking in that department, if he should've switched his goals long ago to the life of a Medicine Cat, than Russetpaw would like to know.
It was more of a question of is this job worth it? than what is it like? Russetpaw just had not the gift of eloquence to properly detangle the myriad of thoughts rolling through his head right now.

---

Word Count: 626
Notes: None~

[Phoenix]

There was nothing he wanted to say in response to Russetpaw's comment about his uncle, and so he remained silent, perhaps sensing the finality in that topic. Though it might have been within his power to do something about Salmonfur's personality, he knew that throwing his weight around in such a way would only result in future regrets. Regardless, it was not his place to tell another how to act unless the behavior became dangerous and unsafe for others. If he had learned one thing, it was that were numerous kinds of cats in this world, both the good and the bad, the bearable and the intolerable. And just as there were different kinds of cats, each cat had his own pleasant and unpleasant personality traits. Part of life was learning to appreciate the pleasant cats and figure out a way to tolerate the unpleasant ones.

The companionable silence that had fallen between them was broken by a sudden question, and though he prepared to answer as soon as Russetpaw had finished speaking, he realized a moment later that it was obviously rhetorical; the apprentice had not given him the chance to speak before continuing on in a rush of words. Upon comprehending the question - and getting over his initial shock at such an unexpected inquiry - the leader realized that he did not have an answer immediately at hand. Though he had speculated on the sudden and new perks and quirks that came with being leader, he had never once asked himself if it was worth it. In comparison to others, his drive for the position of leader had been close to nonexistent, and his reasons far more selfish. He had always focused on one aspect of leadership, never really the thing as a whole. Nine lives. Leaders had nine lives.

"What do you think leading a clan consists of, Russetpaw?" He asked after a few moments of thought, responding by firing back another question. Only after the words had left his mouth did he realize just how curious he was to hear the answer. "If - or perhaps when - you become leader, what decisions will you have to make? What actions will you be responsible for? How will it change your life?" There was almost no way he could explain the complexities and, occasionally, the sheer stress that came with leading a clan to a young tom who had almost no notion of it. There was no way he could prepare himself for the overwhelming knowledge that there was no one but StarClan above him, that everyone else looked up to him for guidance and advice. That equals were no longer equals. That there would always be a mere title between him and old friends, and that even if it was subtle and almost unnoticeable, it was still there, another barrier.

But would he go back? No, he didn't think so.

[Fawn]

Sandstar countered his question with one of his own.

"If - or perhaps when - you become leader, what decisions will you have to make? What actions will you be responsible for? How will it change your life?"

This drew a pensive expression upon the ruddy tom's face, whiskers twitching as he took a few moments of solitude to consider the older feline's words. What actions would he be responsible for? So many. So many things fall upon the leader's shoulders and no one else's. "Almost everything - you're responsible for almost everything, and just one word from you can change a cat's life, whether it's a name or a punishment or a blessing." Came a slow, thoughtful response, the flicker of intelligence in his eyes showed that he was still processing everything, the gears and cogs of his young mind hard at work.

He had thought about being leader a hundred times over, and thus Russetpaw was far from a stranger to the concept of hard work, stress and all that responsibility that came with being at the top of the ladder. But there were good things about it too, there had to be - yes it was an honor, and yes it meant everything would come down to your decision and no one else's, but it was a reason to be proud, to stand tall as RainClan's figurehead, to acknowledge your success and worthiness of such a title.
Of course there were others who be much more humble in their approach, and Russetpaw had no problem with that - just sometimes, it was nice to acknowledge that becoming leader was an achievement, a wonderful, complicated, life-changing achievement, as some of the best ones often were.

"You have to be unbiased, fair and not let your emotions cloud your judgement - but sometimes emotion can be a good thing. A leader without compassion isn't a very good one, and I think it's okay to make mistakes every now and then." Russetpaw fixed Sandstar with an inquisitive, analyzing gaze, as though if he looked long enough he could find out just how the sandy tom had felt the day he had been chosen to lead them all. "I think it reminds everyone that the Clan leader is still just a cat like everyone else." He cracked a sly smile. "A heck of a lot harder to kill than most cats, but still a warrior in the end. I can't really say exactly what kind of leader I'm going to be, but I'd like to think that I can be wise and tough, compassionate and fair, patient but decisive. Obviously no cat's perfect, and everyone messes up sometimes, but if you work hard and be forgiving, you can do it, right?"

By 'you' he meant anyone aspiring to be leader in general, himself included. Russetpaw had always been a firm believer in, with enough hard work and patience, a cat could do anything they set their minds to. This was probably a byproduct of his parents spoiling him a bit and letting him get away with so much, a natural defiance and determination cultivated after many many moons of defying orders, but Russetpaw had also never failed anything before. There would be a wake-up call somewhere in the near future, but knowing the deeply red-furred tom with a soul as bright and burning as firelight, he would learn to adapt while still holding on to the philosophy by which he lived.

[Phoenix]

~|Sandstar|~
_{LEADER OF RAINCLAN}
____________________________________________________

He liked Russetpaw's answer. Though he had a few choice adjectives to add to the description, he felt as though the ruddy apprentice had summarized the position fairly well for one who had not actually experienced it himself. At the very least, he had an inkling of the understanding of the sheer power a leader had, the amount of responsibility - and to a certain extent, trust - that was placed on the shoulders of a single cat who was just as capable as making mistakes as the next warrior over. That thought led him to another good point in the apprentice's response: the leader was a cat with a fancy title. He would be hard-pressed to find a perfect leader, and despite being confident of his full awareness of his own flaws, he had decided that he would not attempt to hide all of them. That alone was almost impossible, even as a warrior. Cats had a habit of forgetting that their leader was just a cat, and having experienced the pressure of the role, he thought that reminding them of it might be beneficial. But would it do more harm then good? The image of a leader was that of an almighty being who was as close to omniscient as possible, who was unshakable and knew exactly what to do and how to lead them out of trouble. Was it that faith that kept the clan tied together at their foundation?

"A leader is still just a cat like everyone else," He murmured, reiterating the apprentice's words, inclining his head slightly. "You asked whether becoming leader is as rewarding as you think. That question depends on the cat and his or her values. A cat who prefers to follow rather than lead will find it more work than pleasure, whereas a cat who has accomplished his life-long dream will find it considerably more rewarding." The tom picked his words carefully, thoughtfully, and he was very aware of the impact that they would have on the younger, impressionable feline. "Being leader is just as rewarding as it is trying. There is the responsibility that comes with the power and, as you said, change a cat's life." It was just as easy to use that power for improving a cat's life as it was condemning it. Unbidden, his thoughts shifted to Falconleap and Vultureback, remembering the pure relief that had followed his decision to allow the former StoneClan deputy to take shelter in RainClan.

Flicking his tail, Sandstar continued, "If you become leader, Russetpaw, cats will look up to you for guidance. You will become the role model for your clan, particularly those of the younger generations. You will be expected to lead your clan through thick and thin, to make and stand by the important decisions for the well-being of your clan, and should the results not be to your favor, weather the consequences accordingly. You will be expected to use your power to improve the lives of your clan members, to judge fairly and impartially, without any prexisting bias. You will act as the pillar of strength in times of need and the symbol of your clan's strength in prosperous times. You will inspire your clan mates when they need the motivation, provide support when they need assistance. It is up to you to decide whether or not you find that life worth it." Despite the responsiblities and the added stress, he thought that the position was more rewarding than it was work. Not every cat could lay claim to the title of leader, and it was both humbling and exhilarating to know that he was the clan's representative. It was an accomplishment of which any cat would be proud. And yet...

"Any cat can lead," He responded, tail flicking, "as long as there are others who are willing to follow them. Leading well is the trick."

[Fawn]

"It is up to you to decide whether or not you find that life worth it."

It was clear in the vivid green eyes of the ruddy-furred tom that he personally felt it was worth it; though he did not have experience on his side, or as some would put it, practical life goals, Russetpaw would continue to walk past the naysayers and keep working hard until he had accomplished all that he had first set out to do.

With thoughts of becoming leader, however, came a new awareness that in order to become leader, Sandstar and Razorfang would both have to...expire. This sent a shiver of misery and reluctance rippling through his pelt, the very idea of losing his leader and his mentor/big brother/deputy was a horror he wouldn't like to experience, not even if it would make him leader. I can wait. I've got a lot more moons to go before I'll ever be anyone's deputy, so until then...

It would be in everyone's favor if Sandstar clung to his nine lives, and Razorfang continued to ghost through RainClan's camp like a phantom of order and control, both pillars of strength and security for those who did not carry such otherworldly weight upon their shoulders. Russetpaw would have liked to lessen their burden in any way that he could, but the young tom was aware that the only way he could possibly be of any assistance to those two central cats, would be to live up to his potential as a warrior. Of course, they would have to be very foolish to expect nothing but servility from him - he usually obeyed orders, but sometimes his heart tended to get the better of him - but he would make them proud, give them one less reason to worry about the well-being of RainClan.

He would become a warrior, proud and strong and brave and compassionate, and then he would become a mentor, able to help along the next generation, defend and teach in equal measure. They would have his loyalty for however long their leader and deputyship lasted, and that was all that he could ever give.

With a dip of a ruddy muzzle in Sandstar's direction, Russetpaw appeared to have finished absorbing the older tom's sagely words, a little envious that he could draw from experience rather than speculation. "Thank you, Sandstar, for speaking with me. I hope that when my time comes to lead the Clan, I will be as wise and fair as you." He would leave the older tom to his hunting now - Russetpaw had been overcome by a burning, impulsive desire to go back to camp and help out in any way that he could - even if it was something simple like cleaning out the elders' bedding. Maybe he'd spend some time to talk with them, hear their stories and revel in the legends that had been passed down for generations. Shaking out his pelt, Russetpaw made as though to leave, respectfully lingering should Sandstar have any parting words or bits of advice.