[Brunch]

Looking at the ground bellow her; it looked as though it was made of clouds, though stars danced among the curves of the fluffy clouds. Nightpelt had almost forgotten that the apprentice was there for a second; questions swirling in her mind. At the question that Hazelpaw had asked, Nightpelt gave him a slightly perplexed look, her emerald eyes suddenly piecing together what the apprentice had said. "Of course!" she meowed in an airy tone, "I love them, but-but I can't talk to them anymore." The StarClan warrior sighed slightly and her tail flicked, her dapple pelt rising and falling slowly as she breathed. She missed her kits, and Hazelpaw reminded her of her kits when she left them, curious, but kind, and weary of others. Nightpelt had loved them, but she never got the chance to know them well. "You will always be able to be with your mother," she whispered slowly, her ears flicking gently. Though she knew that her words wouldn't comfort the young apprentice as much as she would have liked, she felt obliged to attempt to help. "Here," she meowed quietly as she stood up and strutted over to the fresh-kill pile. Picking out a thrush and a salmon, she walked briskly over to Hazelpaw, gently placing the bird in front of him. "At least the prey here is always warm and nice," she chuckled softly, trying to relieve some of the tears that were boiling in Nightpelt's eyes as well as Hazelpaw's.