Excitment to have prey as a pet?? Open

Spotkit ran down from where the nursery and the currently empty elders den were. Wool and feathers that marked where warriors and apprentices slept. Spotkit ran past them all. Being Windclan born Spotkit enjoyed being able to run around Windclan camp with ease. Sure there were the worry of hawks snatching one of the kits up but so far hadn't seen any bird of that kind. Spotkit so far only saw a big flcok of small bird and the birds the warriors and apprentices would bring back to camp. Spotkit wondered why any of the animals that the cats that can hunt were all still. Were they asleep? Just then a rustle from the camp entrance and the familer scent of Windclan. Spotkit turned her head to see a windclan patrol coming back into camp. With the sleeping animals in their jaws. 'Are those animals okay?!?!' Spotkit thought worringly.

Cloverpaw trotted in, proudly carrying a fat brown bird that had been hopping about near Outlook Rock. With his tail still on the mend, he'd definitely felt himself falter on the jump up and the landing, but he'd caught his prey, and that was what mattered. The long-legged silver tabby tom was moving along with his patrol towards the fresh-kill pile when he noticed a small calico kitten staring with an odd expression on her face. Cloverpaw decided to try to make a friend. "Hey," he greeted cheerily, setting the bird down. "I don't think I've met you before - my name's Cloverpaw. What's yours?"

"Spotkit." She replied quietly back to the older cat known as Cloverpaw.

Cloverpaw smiled and dipped his head at the little kit. "Hi, Spotkit," he replied in a friendly voice. He sat, bringing himself to her level. He asked her, "Did you come out of the nursery to watch the hunting patrol come back?"

"Yeah! I wanted to meet the other cats in the clan! Now please tell me where the medicince cat is. I think you hurt this poor bird. Maybe after the medicine cats help I can take care of this bird till he is okay." Spotkit said glancing down at the bird. It was probably in so much pain that its eyes were open while it was sleeping.

Cloverpaw purred at the kit's excitement at first, but when she requested a trip to the medicine cat's den, he immediately hesitated and tilted his head. "Hurt the bird...? Well, no, Spotkit; it's prey. Fresh-kill," he explained. "Er, um, haven't your parents told you about food?"

Crowkit, barely two moons old and already under half the Clan’s paws, bounded towards Cloverpaw and the she-kit he had seen around, but hadn’t spoken to. Spotkit, was that her name? “Hey there!” When the kit heard her ask about the “sleeping” prey, he couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Cloverpaw seemed to be explaining alright, but he chimed in anyways. “The patrol killed ‘em, and now we get to eat ‘em!” The dark tom’s tail bushed up, as he licked his lips. He still enjoyed Goldengale’s milk, but had had his first taste of prey a half-moon ago, and decided he liked it. After all, he was bigger now, and real warriors ate meat! His eyes had already shifted colors, one remaining blue, just growing richer and darker, and the other a bright amber, with only streaks of kitten blue remaining. He stuck his tongue out at the other kit playfully, batting her nose. “Silly.”

Cloverpaw's head turned quickly at the sound of his nephew Crowkit's arrival. It seemed like just yesterday the apprentice had been hiding from the nursery while Goldengale went through her.... business, and now her little kit was running about bearing her boldness. The silver tom laughed and subtly pulled the bird away and out of Crowkit and Spotkit's reach, towards himself. He didn't want Crowkit to try taking a bite and getting a mouth full of feathers. If a piece caught in the tom's throat Grousefrost would probably have his hide for not taking it right to the pile "for efficiency" or some mouse-dung like that. Honestly, though, he didn't want to risk harming his kin or Clanmate. Cloverpaw purred, "You get to eat fresh-kill when your mother gives it to you; this one's for the fresh-kill pile."

Spotkit jumped when another cat came. But it was only Crowkit her denmate. Spotkit relaxed puffing her fluffy fur down. Spotkit made the decision to wait until Cloverpaw was done speaking. "I have heard of dead cats going to starclan. So if the prey dies we eat it because the prey wants to die. Then it'll go to prey Starclan?" Spotkit said.She thought about what she was going to say while Crowkit and Cloverpaw talked. In fact it would make Spotkit feel much better about the prey being dead. After all Spotkit had only opened her eyes yesterday and she only went outside once before going back into the nursery to eat and then sleep.

As he broke off, the little kit began to speak again. Cloverpaw listened intently and curiously to her words, nodding once when she mentioned that dead cats went to StarClan. She guessed that prey must want to die to go to StarClan, and that was why it was eaten. Cloverpaw's face brightened, and he responded, "You know, I'd never thought of it like that, but it reminds me of something in the Warrior Code. 'Prey is killed only to be eaten. Give thanks to StarClan for its life.'" He tilted his head thoughtfully and suggested, "I always thought it meant that StarClan sent us the prey, but maybe it means they wanted us to send the prey home to them in Silverpelt. What do you think about that?"

Spotkit nodded. "Yeah." Spotkit agreed.

Cloverpaw nodded brightly, smiling again at Spotkit. "Alright, that makes sense to me too," he replied. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes." Said Spotkit.

Cloverpaw flicked his crimped tail. "Okay, good," he purred. He looked to the bird and then to Spotkit and offered, "Do you want to help me take this bird to the fresh-kill pile?"

Spotkit perked up. "Sure!" She said. "Maybe the other kits could help out."