Swamped

"Best guess: he thinks I've got a real shot, and he's trying to figure out how to deal with me if I make the council. I don't think I can get anything out of it, other than that he's taking me seriously. Surprises me, to be honest."

Mudviper smirks.

"There's a reason I recommended you. I suppose either he sees it, or the others are starting to. The real question is if he's committed to putting up Grey-maw as an alternate at tomorrow's meeting."

"Wait, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is when they finalize the candidates. Then they'll call them all in individually and vote. If there's no clear decision, that's probably when Mantis will suggest a trial."

"That seems awfully fast."

"They don't want to spend too long deadlocked. Anyhow, I guess my advice to you at dinnertime would be to work out if he thinks he's got a chance to stop you from making the council, or if he's trying to make the best of a situation he can't win."

"Noted. Now get some rest already!"

"Very well. Best of luck, Corvus."

She walks off. Just in time for Shorty to get back.

"What's Mudviper doing up and about?" he asks.

"Being stubborn," you sigh. "Soldiers can be like that sometimes. So, did you see anyone or anything unusual at the roost?"

"It was pretty quiet," Shorty says, handing you the paper you wanted as an excuse. "But there was one thing that I couldn't help but notice."

"And that was?"