Keep Fighting Until There's Nothing Left To Fight For[solo]

Copperlark was so, so tired. The sparks of hope she had gotten from her new litter was quickly extinguished as one after another died. It was only now that she understood why the Clans had insisted to hunt for each other rather than just themselves. Prey was scarce, and she had to turn the forest upside-down in order to find even a few scraps of mouse. Her milk wouldn't come, and at nights the queen could only watch as her kit's bodies grew stiller and stiller still. A hollowness grew in her as she buried first Cedar, then Sun and Amber. This morning, she had woken up to find Shrew's body cold and limp. Only one of her five kits remained, and for now he was tucked in some hay that she had found in the barn while she scouted the area once again for prey.

Her stomach rumbling, the former warrior tasted the air. A faint wisp of mouse filled her senses, and her heart leaped. Prey, at last. Copperlark located the mouse, a skinny creature that looked no larger than a newborn kit. But it was still prey, and would keep her son alive for some time while she found more. Swallowing nervously, Copperlark began stalking towards the mouse. The winds shifted, and instantly the mouse's head shot up. Copperlark lunged forward, but she was too late. Her paws landed on dried leaves that crumbled instantly under her weight. Mouse-dung! She wanted to cry, but couldn't. How tired one must be that even crying seemed an impossible task.

Copperlark closed her eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. She could do this. She carried on, moving past her previous hunting spot and scenting the air continuously in hopes of finding something, anything, to fill her kit's belly. The scent of squirrels filled her senses, bringing yet another pang of hunger. Copperlark crouched down until the pain was bearable, then began stalking the squirrel. She couldn't mess up again. Her mind was still hazy with hunger, but her muscles seemed to still remember her lessons as an apprentice, and soon the squirrel was limp in her jaws. Copperlark nearly cried from relief. It was thin and scrawny, sure, but at least she had bought Bird some time. If only she had caught it sooner, Shrew would have still been alive. Squirrel was Shrew's favourite. The thought sent thorns into the queen's heart. She screwed her eyes shut, blocking out whatever last thoughts she had about her dead daughter. Shrew was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Copperlark considered turning back and giving the squirrel to Bird immediately, but the scent of another mouse caught her attention. If she could catch that too, then neither of them would have to go hungry tonight. Surely, that was the better deal? Copperlark quickly buried her squirrel, then turned to locate the mouse. Green eyes landed on the mouse, but just as she lowered herself down her ear brushed against some ferns and instantly the mouse was gone. Copperlark starred at the spot where the mouse had been, a bitter taste in her mouth. Whatever. She'll bring the squirrel back to Bird, then maybe teach him how to hunt. He was almost five moons old, but he didn't have the luxery to wait until he was six moons old.