The night was cool and luxurious. Shadepaw loved the quiet stillness and the shadows concealing the camp, the little stars twinkling in the distance like fireflies, insignificant dots beautifying the night sky. Here, she was in her element. She blended in perfectly with the darkness all around, her black pelt against the blackness of everywhere. There weren't too many cats out, either---that was always a refresher. She remembered when she was a kit, hiding, watching the camp and other cats go about their day. It was much preferable to being in the nursery with her unnerving mother, watching her and judging her and calculating her every move. She felt a pang of nostalgia. When she was a kit, things were so much simpler. Well, I'm not a kit anymore, she thought sharply to herself abruptly. I wouldn't want to be so pathetic and weak. Yes, that was what kits were: pathetic and weak. It was weak of her to feel nostalgic, like she almost wanted to go back to the way things were. I'm not weak. I won't be. Her amber eyes burned with resentment at herself. If she kept on having these thoughts, Clovepool would never, ever approve of her. Dismay and dread pooled through her. That won't happen. I'll make it not happen.

A sharp, clear call rang through the clearing, snapping her out of her thoughts. Amber gaze turned to the dilute tortoishell standing in the clearing. Night hunting. Maybe this would clear her thoughts, give her a clear objective to succeed in, as well as furthering herself in capability, to gain a chance to be noticed... By Clovepool and the high ranks. If Silentpaw can do it, I definitely can, she thought, jealousy curling her claws.

Dark pelt slipped through the dim clearing to the group slowly starting to gather. She knew how to hunt, of course she'd had lessons, but she'd never hunted at night before. It seemed easier, of course, because of the obvious darkness as an advantage and her own shadowy pelt. But she knew the scents would carry further in the crisp, clear night air, so she'd have to be more careful. Maybe she could get a warrior to tell her anything else that's needed to know, otherwise she thought it would pretty much be the same as day hunting.

Bunnypaw gasped as she saw Dawnstar, bouncing over and grinning. "Hi miss Dawnstar! Guess what! Mr. Newtbelly taught me combat!"
@Undertaker