My heart is open and willing [Open]

[Grim]

Overhead, the sun was just beginning to sink in the sky. Silverpelt was faintly visible, a slight murmur in the sky’s broad, Technicolor reach. Dashes of violet and coral pink illuminated the day’s conclusion and marked the coming descent into darkness. However, the plasters and pools of color were the furthest matters in Lightpool’s mind. The concept of death weighed heavily on her slender shoulders, putting a damper on her typical lighthearted cheer. It wasn’t a theory that she visualized on a daily basis. In fact, she had not entertained thoughts of death in moons, particularly because it always put her in a grave mood that she wasn’t incredibly fond of.

Upon entering the ThunderClan camp, Lightpool’s steps were laborious. The two chaffinches dragged along the ground between her stiff forelegs no matter how high she tried to keep her head held. She grunted her effort softly and heaved the prey towards the fresh-kill pile, finally letting the wing tips fall from her clenched muzzle. She turned away, spitting feathers from her mouth, and glanced around the camp. Almost everybody had already chosen their portions and were eating in small groups. Lightpool sighed softly, a small whuff of a breath, and turned back to the pile. She nosed a limp vole gently and picked it up. Once again, she glanced briefly around the camp. When nobody motioned for her to join them, Lightpool padded diligently towards a large thorn bush nearby.

She crouched modestly near the bush and set the fresh-kill near her forepaws. She paused for a moment to appreciate the scene before her. Her Clan-mates chattered all around her, basking in the last warm rays. In the midst of leaf-bare, nights could be unkind, even to the warriors with the thickest pelts. It was reassuring to see that ThunderClan was faring well. Finally a little at ease, Lightpool turned back to the vole and bent to tuck in.

[Cai]

[[*Shifty eyes* ... *Invades*]]

Hawkclaw strode through camp. He looked slightly irritated by something, though nobody would know why, and his tail flicked restlessly even as he surveyed the camp. Today had not been high on his list of good days, meaning he was looking forwards to a slightly calmer evening, hopefully one which included a nice meal and no ill-behaved apprentices or wretched foxes. At least camp was reasonably quiet now, as everyone was settling down to eat and talk quietly. As a result, nobody really paid much attention to Hawkclaw's dark figure making its way through camp, and he passed by quickly.

Casting a critical eye over the fresh-kill pile once he reached it, Hawkclaw paused only for a moment before yanking a decent-sized bird from the scattered pieces of limp fur and feathers. Holding it casually by one wing, he glanced up, sharp green eyes flicking over the cats in camp. He appraised them silently, deciding whether to eat with someone or to just go and sit in peace and quiet by himself. There was Redpelt... But he never shut up once he got talking. And Mossfeather? Talk about an annoying laugh. Solitude would definitely be preferable to hearing her quack all evening. No, there were no cats whose company he particularly wanted, so it looked like he would be eating alone.

Just as Hawkclaw was about to find his own spot to sit down in and eat his meal, his eyes were drawn to a light-coloured pelt sat by itself next to some bushes. He hesitated, then, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at himself, Hawkclaw padded over to join Lightpool, despite his natural inclination to not socialise with lonely-looking she-cats. But he wasn't quite as grumpy as his exterior might imply, and if the truth be known, he thought she looked rather forlorn all by herself, so he sat down beside her and greeted her gruffly.

"All right?"

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