I walked out, seeing Mistsky and Swiftpine sharing tongues together. Maybe Beechpaw and I will be like that one day, I wondered, her gaze drifting over to the brown tom who was sitting with Brackenpaw.
I walked over to the fresh-kill pile. A scrawny mouse and a few shrews were all that were left. I gulped down a shrew and walked over to Beechpaw. “Hi Beechpaw,” I mewed. “Do you want to hunt with me?”
Beechpaw got up and smiled. “Sure.” We walked out of camp together, tails twined.
“That should be enough.”
I looked down at the prey Beechpaw and I had caught. A young rabbit, two mice and a thin squirrel. It was a good hunt for leaf-bare.
“Let’s go.” Beechpaw grabbed some of the prey in his mouth.