> Cliffcrier
-> Location: Dahliabriar's Den by the Eastern Maple Tree
--> Info: He/him, 94 Moons old, Shelter Duty Head
---> Tags: Harrierflight, Dahliabriar, and Bayleaf
Cliffcrier stared at Harrierflight for a few beats before speaking. "Funny as ever, aren't you? Just such a bundle of joy-" Cliffcrier cut himself off, realizing his hypocrisy and hoping nobody called him out on it. "Well, whatever. Nice to see you aren't dead after rotting in that nest nonstop. Also nice to see that you... aren't Dahliabriar. Really, any familiar face that isn't hers is a welcome sight to see right now." He turned and scowled at the Head of Medicine, clearly still annoyed that she had ordered his Camp Keepers around. "And... Good morning to you too. I guess. Whatever."
Settling into a calm pattern of breathing and flicking his tail, Cliffcrier finally stopped talking, waiting for anyone else to speak up. He took careful note of the way the faint sunlight dappled through the leaves of the nearby maple tree and the shape of certain clouds. His mind, calmed at last, began to comb through his plans for the next few days, who he would have do which tasks, never stopping for the sake of the camp. He would have to ask Paleshadow if they needed any changes to his current den. Maybe, Cliffcrier thought, he'd even ask the Herb Gatherers if their roof was holding up so far. Then he'd get to see his- no, his sister's- kit for longer than usual. Cliffcrier chuckled softly at the thought of his nephew-turned-adopted-kit, forgetting about everything but his community and how he could help them.