burro offers his acknowledgment in gentle hums, an attentive gaze switching from flora to his companion. of course, burro believed it was simply in their nature to be biased. cats like them, with such pride in their home. the way it swelt in a chest, pouring out over words they can't stop. burro could talk about the dirt from his farm for hours, it was just that others knew better than to ask a man so devoted. they knew he wouldn't shut his trap about it.
but the topic of kits brings a heavy air, one that burro doesn't miss. and his attention is kept solely to his leader. the twitch in a brow, the downturn of a lip. nothing escapes those watchful eyes, and his concern for the molly grows in the mere seconds she spoke. he understood bad home life. that not everyone was meant to be a family. some cats weren't meant to be a parent, others weren't meant to be their child. it took his youth to realize that. "if," this could be overstepping boundaries, he's sure. he would never hold it against the other if she hadn't wished to delve. there was a bridge between them, leader to warrior. an air of professionalism that burro had never quite cared for until now. "ya' ever want to talk about it. i'm right here. ya' know that, right?" beau had never opened up to burro despite their moons of friendship, and that had hurt. but burro understood, only nudging the subject. if darkstar had wanted that vulnerability, he'll protect it.
"if ya' turn your back for a few, i'll sort it all out." his words are hushed and gentle, even if his intent isn't. darkstar doesn't seem like the type to want to deal with heavy confrontation. burro didn't favor it, but he knows how to work with it. he's made for this. if he can sniff a mouse out of a field, he can find a snake in the tall grass.
slowly, the air clears of that stuffy feeling. heavy emotions, undelved pasts that may want to remain hidden. he meant his words, he can only hope that she had known that. "watch and learn, clan cat. the master is at work." he'll have to ignore darkstar for this, but he was used to an audience. large bovine watching him carefully, anxious for him to get their intruder out. a nervous whiny, aggravated clucks from mother hens at the prospect of rats. their demands had shaped him, each crouch carefully planned. each step swift and precise, each bite to deliver a killing blow.
burro always worked quick to calm down his flock, but now he worked for different reasons. getting his leader something good to calm her stomach.