she's not a saint and she's not what you think (c)

Another successful hunting patrol! Hedgepaw trotted in happily, bearing a large vole in her jaws. She never used to be that great at hunting, but--slowly yet surely, with Quillsplash's instruction--she was growing to be fairly decent. Nowhere near as good as her mamma, of course, but better than she used to be. The moon was high tonight, casting a pale creamy light over the clearing of camp. Due to the early newleaf breeze, it was even a bit warmer than usual. Life was good. The small apprentice hummed tunelessly to herself as she bore her catch over to the fresh-kill pile. When she got there, though, she saw someone else there as well. Another apprentice, she thought--one much bigger than her, and with softer fluffier fur. All the other apprentices were bigger than her, though, so that wasn't too odd. Hedgepaw tilted her head and offered the other apprentice a warm smile. She couldn't quite recall her name, but she knew she'd seen her around with Nettlepaw before. "Hi! Dyou want a vole? I just caught this one." A small, white paw nudged the fresh catch over to the other she-cat. "I was just gonna take a break and eat something, too. Wanna eat together? My name's Hedgepaw. What's yours?"