Broaching the Surface | Fawnheart and Rootpaw& (priv)

They weren't sure what they expected. Relief, at least, came easy. Somehow, Fawnheart had already prepared themselves for the horrible possibility of Rootpaw's avoidance. Which would be especially troublesome, considering their professional relationship necessitated their constant interaction at all times, on a more than regular basis. So that much was good. What wasn't as soothing were the words that came with their emergence. An apology.

"Um." Strong start. Fawnheart blinked, slow and processing, down at the smaller cat. Apologies.. were probably in order, sure. But not to him. Or. Were they? The warrior's tail held still behind him, frozen rigid as he thought especially hard about what had happened the night prior. It had certainly been a lot.. but certainly nothing all that offensive had been aired. Not towards them, anyway. Turtlefang might not feel the same way, though, and it was true enough that things had felt a lot more stressful with the tortie having disappeared from the den in the middle of the night again. But.. the consequences of a statement, however impassioned, were not the responsibility of a cat half their age. That'd be awfully immature to consider, they thought. So much so that it felt wrong to affirm the statement, wrong to leave Rootpaw thinking any of this was anyone's fault. As his pause for thought finally thawed, time seeming to resume in the process, he blinked once more, with clarity.

"You don't need to say that." A very short, simple statement. It didn't encompass all the thoughts currently fighting for dominance in Fawnheart's head, but it was enough to kick things off. Maybe. In the same heartbeat, they gestured with their tail, now reanimated. "We should leave camp. It's.." Private. "..better." The last thing he wanted to do was have an important conversation where all of the clan could hear them. Things that were nobody's business but his and Rootpaw's. They'd had enough of their personal matters exposed already, and weren't particularly in a hurry to put on a show all over again.

As the apprentice emerged, Fawnheart offered only a short nod for acknowledgement before turning on his paws with the same drifting pace he approached most of his duties. This time, however, he had a certainty in his steps, gentle but directed as they carried him to the camp exit. Not so quick as to rush Rootpaw along, nor to rush what was inevitably going to be an awkward conversation.. but steady enough to remove them from the public eye sooner than later.

It was nice out, all things considered. Despite the lingering coolness from leafbare, as chilly as the atmosphere had been among the clan itself, the sun was shining through the treeline with promise of coming warmth. No matter what trials Sunclan faced, the seasons changed. The world moved on. And Fawnheart moved on, too.

They only hoped it didn't mean leaving their student out in the lurch.

There was no set location in mind, as the warrior continued the walk in silence. A place offset from patrols, probably. A place.. they would both feel comfortable. From a spring memory, the thought emerged. The stream could be nice. The slow thaw of trickling waters, muffling them from any incidental passerby, could also feel very therapeutic. It.. was the place him and Rookbriar had played around, finding sticks and stones to bring stories to life. Back when Rootpaw was still just a kitten...

They led the way to the waterside, greenery giving way to the thinner coverage of the land just before the shore. Illuminated in its own reflection, beams of morning giving the remaining slush of the water a dim glow.. it was nice. This is good.

Fawnheart pulled to a stop where his paws touched the start of rockier ground, fidgeting among the gravel with a peek to ensure Rootpaw's settlement before they began.