The "Cheer" of a One-Eyed Hunter

As soon as the eagle fell to the ground dead, Nectarleap rushed over to Stormpaw, licking at his wounded shoulder. At Fernfeather's words, he looked up and took a break to reply. "I'm fine, my leg's just a little hurt. But we should get Stormpaw back to camp quickly." After giving the scratch a few more licks, the warrior looked apologetically at his apprentice. "Sorry for talking asif you weren't here. We should start heading back." He began trotting back to camp, picking his hare on the way. It was concerning that the only catch was a small hare, but they shouldn't stay out any longer with open wounds.

Stormpaw blinked his thanks as Nectarleap came over. The licks felt soothing to his injury. "Your leg looks painful. We-we should go quickly." he replied, his gaze worriedly catching the blood on Nectarleap. He glanced back to the eagle, now dead. "Hey, do ya think we could use that as prey? It could feed the whole nursery!" The apprentice exclaimed, walking over with a slight limp. He picked up the eagle by the back of the neck, and dragged it along after Nectarleap. It was practically the same size as him!

Fernfeather quickly, her gently, pushed Stormpaw aside. "I'm the only cat not hurt. I'll carry it back. You need to get back to camp before your limo becomes permanent." Her voice was much more harsh than she had intended, but she didn't want anything to happen to either one of her Clanmates; if either of them couldn't recover because they were too busy hauling back heavy prey, they would be just as useless as she was. She grabbed the eagle in her jaws and dragged it after them.