A muscular blue cat stalked through the leafy shrubs, towards a clearing where a scruffy white she-cat lay on the grass conversing with a bulky seal-pointed tom. "Blizzardthorn, you need to rest. You heard what Tawnybloom said, the cold air will make your cold worse."
Blizzardthorn scoffed, "Bearheart, I'm fine! I just need some good fresh-kill and some feverfew." Bearheart reassured her, "Snowripple will be back with a cockatoo any moment now."
Bluestar didn't know what a 'cockatoo' was, but was answered when a slim tabby she-cat trotted into the clearing with a large snow-white bird. Snowripple proudly dropped the prey at the elder's paws. Blizzardthorn gave her an affectionate lick, then wasted no time eating.
Blizzardthorn stumbled to her feet, and winced as she put weight on her front paw. "Mousedung!" she hissed as Bearheart helped her up.
"Let's go back to camp. Dunestar is worried sick." Snowripple offered. The limping elder nodded in agreement, and slowly walked away with them.
