Mealtime Conversations {Closed}

That particular afternoon, the pale leaf-bare sky was partially blotted out by ragged swathes of clouds. As a returning patrol plodded back into SkyClan camp, the familiar striped pelt of Tigerleaf could be seen among them. The small she-cat had been up ever since the dawn patrol, and budding weariness was now evident in her features. Without a second glance at her patrolmates, she headed straight to the fresh-kill pile. She did not expect any cat to call after her, and no cat did. After a moment's hesitation, she selected a scrawny squirrel. It was barely enough to feed a full-grown cat, but there was not much else to choose from. In harsh times, no cat would complain about the fact that they even got to eat. Picking up the all-too-stiff critter by the tail, she turned to examine the cats in the clearing with a hopeful glint in her eyes. As it would be a while before the next patrol was sent out, most of her clanmates were currently lounging about—warriors and apprentices alike. It did not take long before she found one of the cats she was looking for. At the sight of Larkpaw, her gaze lit up. As tired as she was, the sight of her family members always seemed to give her energy. She trotted over to her son, who appeared to be alone. The friendly mrrow of greeting she emitted was partly muffled by the squirrel she was still holding onto. "Would it be all right for me to join you, Larkpaw?" She inquired with a note of cheer, once she had set the piece of prey down. It had been a while since she had last had a one-to-one conversation with the young tom.