- Oct 28, 2022
- 388
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The sharp scent of blood clings to Stormywing's jaws as she pads toward the nursery with her striped tail held high. A freshly killed thrush dangles from her teeth, its feathers ruffled but the catch otherwise clean. It had taken more patience than she cared to admit, crouched in the leafless branches of the Great Sycamore waiting for the bird to stop hopping about. But the effort had been worth it - this thrush was the plumpest prey she'd seen in days.
Her golden eyes sweep the area around the den for one cat in particular. Lightflower had been kind to her earlier, and though Stormywing is never one to enjoy receiving pity, it had felt…nice, to have an ounce of kindness shown towards her from someone who wasn't a close friend or kin. Besides, she has noticed the queen's appetite dwindling, and she can't ignore the uneasy twist it leaves in her gut. Pregnant or not, ThunderClan can't afford to lose anyone to leaf-bare's grip.
She pauses at the den entrance, her breath puffing in the cold air before she ducks her head inside. "Ligh'fowr," She calls, her scratchy voice muffled around the bird. Her gaze finds the pale tabby queen curled in her nest, and she steps forward to drop the bird at her paws. "Caught this for you. Thought you could use something fresh." Her ears flick as she takes a step back a bit awkwardly. She's never been well-versed in…nursery stuff. "You've gotta eat," She trills more firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Your kits need you strong." A striped tail flicks as she stands there, unsure if she should stay or leave. She doesn't usually linger around this den - her place is out in the forest, hunting or climbing or patrolling - but something keeps her rooted in place. A desire to talk, maybe. Or perhaps it's the guilt that she didn't get to do this for her own unborn kits.
// @Lightflower
