[Fawn]

Fawnsqueak still felt a light throbbing in his head with every step and jostle of his body, but resting it off seemed to have healed the worst of the damage. The blood had been washed away to give no evidence of the burly tom's assault that'd rained down on him. As he emerged into the clearing, he hesitated. Peeked to Lionstar's den, and debated for a second, then two... Finally, Fawnsqueak shifted direction to squint into the darkness, peeking further before he noticed a sad lump of Lionstar unusually pathetic.

"Hey," he greeted, clearing his throat. "Your Fallenstar impression seriously needs work, man. I mean, you got it partly right-- this... staying in the den and wallowing thing, but it needs more complaints about your personal misfortunes if you want to kick it up a little." Granted, he imagined that wasn't what Lionstar was doing but couldn't even begin to guess why he was just a golden puddle in here.