[Brunch]

A limp thrush dangling from her jaws, the small form of Ashenpaw erupted from the entrance to the nursery. As she heaved the rest of her body into, she shook of a few brambles protruding from her rust-gray pelt. Glancing around her old den, Ashenpaw sighed, remembering the warmth of the nursery, and the scent of milk always hanging in the delicate air. Ashenpaw inhaled deeply, and though the scent if thrush mostly covered her sences, she still felt the comfort come to her as it normally did. I,guess I have to give this to someone now. Ashenpaw thought with a sigh; she had bewn carrying the prey through the territory and the clearing, and the apprentice had gotten quite attached to the scent of the thrush always against her nose. Ashenpaw looked across the den carefully again, trying to decide which family to give it to; the family had to be special, since the thrush still had its warmth, and the smell was delicious. Finally, Ashenpaw's eyes landed on Pantherkit, and she rushed over, careful not to trip over anyone, or else she would get a scolding, as though she were a small kit again. Coming across Pantherkit, Ashenpaw smiled, though the thrush his her grin, and as she placed the thrush before the small tom, it became more obvious. The small she-cat knew how the tom must have felt; her mother had always left her, and she had gone hungry, refusing to drink her foster mother's milk, since it wasn't her kin's. And every time a warrior or apprentice dropped off a piece of prey, it always made her day, even if it was a dreary one. "How's it going?" Ashenpaw asked her old denmate quietly, "Make sure to share this with your family," she pushed the thrush closer to Pantherkit, making it obvious that it was his. Ashenpaw flopped to floor, sprawled out, her amber tired and exhausted, "Be glad you're not an apprentice yet," Ashenpaw chuckled slightly, trying to coax the tom into a conversation.