Sharing Prey and Tongues

Lionpaw could definitively say he had never felt so hungry in his life. Apprentices were the last in the pecking order for fresh-kill. For lack of a better phrase, he was not receiving the lion's share of Newleaf's bounty. His warrior journey was a lot less clandestine and heroic as he had once imagined, and despite his intense will to impress his mentor and succeed in his ambitions, he found himself becoming increasingly agitated. He languished, dragging back fat shrews and lengthy squirrels, tossed on a pile which he would receive the slimmest pickings of.

He felt that the slightest burr on his side would send him to a frenzy.

It was sunhigh again. Time to eat. The fresh-kill pile was hopelessly small by the time he shimmied through the gorse tunnel, back from training. Kit season was making it harder and harder to keep the clan fed without patrols constantly bringing in kills. He found a juvenile robin... not much meat on those bones. But it would do.

As he sat down in the center of camp, big, dirty paws curling around his precious treasure, he noticed another apprentice padding towards the pile, which was now even emptier than before. He felt a twinge of shame in his heart when it happened upon him that he'd taken the last good piece of prey left. All that remained were a few emaciated mice. Her name was Hopepaw. He knew of her. It was difficult not to know. But she was a good few moons older than him and probably deserved a little sympathy for her... condition.

He left his robin aside and crept up slowly, hoping he wouldn't regret what he was about to do. "Excuse me," he started, "We could share something, if you want..."

Then, his own foolishness settled on him. "Oh. Right." He stamped his paw on the ground near her to get her attention, and then pointed his ear toward his fresh-kill. How do I say this? He awkwardly placed his tail on her shoulders and jerked his head to the side. Follow me, the gesture implied.

Hopepaw had struck out on her hunt that day. Somehow, all the prey were able to know she was coming. No matter if she was upwind or downwind. Had they just gotten smarter? Or was there something she was missing? Her tail lashed, letting out the frustrated energy before returning to camp. The thought of food brought her to the nearly empty pile of food. So...many choices. The frail-looking mouse, or the mouse who looked just enough off that Hopepaw was uncertain about eating it. Maybe she should return to the forest and try to find something again.

The reverberation broke her internal debate. Hopepaw whipped her head around towards its source. It was one of the new members of the den. Or newer...? He had flicked his ear. Had a bug flown in? He gave her a more solid gesture, which she could understand. Curiosity drowned out all feelings of hunger, and the white apprentice bounded after the other. Did he need help with something? Were they going to spar? Plenty of things to do!