(OPEN)
Shinefang had been up most of the night finishing up with packing all the herbs he could manage. Carefully but with paws that had grown too stiff to do the job properly, her had bundled what he could into packets made from beech leaves and bind weed. Up until the last moment, he worked, not stopping until he could here his clanmates moving out for the journey. He snorted. He'd already had to leave his home once in his lifetime. Couldn't these young cats just let him stay in one place for Starclan's sake?! As he was thinking this, his paws slipped and the horsetail he'd been trying to bundle together rolled off along the den floor. "Fox dung!" the old tom cursed. "Ringpaw!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Go and get those alread-" then he stopped, remembering that there was no more Ringpaw in his den. Her nest still stood empty. He had no apprentice. He was alone. All alone. To keep the cold in his chest from sinking in, he hissed under his breathe and stomped outside his den. He stood at the enterance and called out to any cat who would listen, "Hey! Can someone help me carry some of these herbs? I'm not exactly a young kit over here!"
@
The Cannibal just in case you'd like these two to have a moment while they make the move.