She takes a deep breath, crisp leafbare air filling her lungs as she steps out of the camp and into the woods. Mud squished between her paws but it feels good. It feels right. The sun hangs low in the sky, ready to begin its decent into night but she would not be long. Maybe just a quick look around, a walk about the territory, then she would be back in her nest. Next to Granitepaw. She thinks about her gray furred friend and her heart flutters a little bit. She pushes the feeling aside, shoves it in a box labeled 'deal with later' and locks it away in her mind. She had other more important duties to focus on right now.
She makes her way through the pines, snow capped tail swishing in a steady rhythm behind her, green eyes surveying the landscape before her, hunting for any signs of the herbs that Bonejaw had taught her. Leaf-bare still had its icy talons clenched around the forest though, she doubts today will be a success. Any day she finds something, anything at all, is a small miracle it feels.
Soon, a different kind of thing her clan needed crosses her path though. Prey. While she is walking a squirrel darts right in front of her. Instinctually, though she has yet to catch anything that isn't leaf shaped, she drops into a crouch, intent on stalking the creature and then catching it, or at least making an attempt to. She watches it as if approaches a bush, grabs at it with its little hands and pulls a shiny black berry from the branches. She pauses, watching as it raises it to its lips, and eats the whole thing. She does not know what possesses her to watch it instead of catching but Starlingheart is transfixed to the spot. She cannot tear her eyes away as the squirrel starts convulsing, spasms rack it's body and it collapses, twitching in a morbid dance before it grows still.
Intrigued she walks up to the bush, leaning out to give the berries a tentative sniff before glancing down at the creature who had suffered such an ill fate. She had heard about berries that had the capability to kill but in the stories they had been bright red. These were black like the shadows her home was named after.
It would be unfortunate if a clanmate were to stumble upon this fresh-kill, if they took it back to the clan and fed it to a queen or stars forbid a kit so very carefully she digs a small hole, and, being careful to only touch the creature with leaves, lowers it into it and covers it. No cats would be dying on her watch.
What spurns her on next is a strange decision on her part. She is not sure what compels her but she returns to the bush to see three more berries on the branch the squirrel had pulled its fate from. She leans forward and snaps the branch off. Enough of it to carry the berries home without having to touch them anyways.
Later, she would educate the clan about them, warn them to stay away. That's what she tells herself anyways as she makes her way back to camp.