Okay there's something I need the whole clan to hear [Private; Wildstar]

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    Shrubafng's heart was beating out of her chest, her eyes filled with pure undeniable shock, she was overcome with fear. Shrubfang died yesterday, but came back and if she didn't admit her crimes within 24 hours she would die again. Shrubfang found herself in front of the leader's den, she had murdered so many cats, and they weren't just hawkclanners, a tear rolled down her cheek 'EXILE!' just echoed throughout her head her claws dug in to the ground, I'm so sorry for what I did... But I don't know what will happen her green eyes gleamed in sorrow, then she gulped. And the unusually small light creamy she-cat walked through the entrance of the den and mumbled "W-Wildstar?" her green eyes that were filled with sorrow seemed to stand out of it all but all she could hear now in her head was not the 'exile' but the painful cries of Eaglekit before she killed him
    I'm guilty....b-but... I don't... I don' want exile... nor death she held back her tears and just looked the larger she-cat in the eyes


    [Low muse]

    Wildstar sat in the leader's den. She had trouble calling it her own. Even though she had changed the bedding and slept in there for at least a week with Noonblaze, it still smelled of Peregrinestar. Even though she had carefully cleaned the blood away with water and moss, she swore she could feel his pulse as she lay curled in her moss and feather nest, thrumming from underneath the ground. Sometimes the leader couldn't stand to sleep there, and visited the elder's den to sleep beside her continually ailing grandmother, Speckledpath, keeping watch over her like a sentry. It seemed as if so few cats died of old age. Rather, they all died suddenly and tragically. What did that say about the clan? Wildstar wasn't sure.


    Night was just starting to fall like a blanket upon the camp, and cats were squirreling away to their dens, resting after a day of work and duties. Kits stayed up whispering and giggling in the nursery while their exhausted mothers slept, apprentices chattered with each other about the day's training, and warriors slipped quietly into their den, tired out from hunting and patrolling. Wildstar was hardly expecting a visit. When she heard a voice outside her den, she jumped, her eyes widening in surprise and her claws unsheathing in a millisecond. It was an involuntary reaction, a response engraved into her very muscles after her experience in Bloodclan. At any moment, at any time, someone could be there to kill her. But Wildstar noticed that the voice was more scared than she was, and logic won out over animal instinct, allowing her fur to lay flat and her claws to slip back into their velvety sheaths. She took a brief whiff of the air, and recognized the strange scent. Shrubfang? The leader had not seen the strange she-cat around lately, and recalled Tigerroar detailing to her the apparent death of the she-cat. Had he been wrong?
    "Yes...come in," she meowed, her tone measured.

    Shrubfang remained standing then looked the temporary leader in the eyes, and before Wildstar could say anything, Shrubfang asked "Do you know the dead cats, missings cats, and dead rouges on the territory?" her green eyes gleamed in question
    [still muse low]