{Silvy's post}
Whitehawk emerged from the warriors den, issuing his way into the clearing. His chest raised and fell as he inhaled the fresh morning air. He loved mornings, especially since everything is so fresh smelling. Dew clung to the soft grass on this warm morning, which tended to stick to the white warrior’s fluffy coat as he padded through. He was headed toward the fresh-kill pile, yellow orbs locked on the rather small pile with hunger. Whitehawk honestly hated the sight of dead animals, it brought sympathy and unfortunate thoughts. Although these dead animals will feed the Clan and keep them strong, so Whitehawk deals with his pickiness.
The white tom frowned suddenly, losing hunger as he inspected the pitiful pile. It was still early; so it was understandable why the pile would be so empty, but SkyClan has been seriously lacking in the food department lately. He took note of a small mouse and sighed. He might as well eat it before it goes bad and becomes a waste - which would bring absolute despair to Whitehawk’s mind. So he gently picked up the mouse between his jaws. Thank you StarClan, for this food you bless us with. It was habit for Whitehawk to thank StarClan constantly, for he is super loyal to the code. It’s not something he normally stresses about, it’s just a little thing he prefers to do. A little effort and appreciation never hurt anybody, right?
Once he finished searching the pile, Whitehawk noticed an important figure - Lemonstar. A friendly smile appeared on his muzzle, sea-shell pink ears perking with interest, He;d been willing to personally congratulate the new leader, but he knew that Lemonstar would be busy. He did not seem very busy now, so going along with luck, Whitehawk greeted him. “Good morning, Lemonstar.” He recalled knowing him before his leadership as Lemonwhisper, but never really got the chance to get to know him. Hopefully Lemonstar wasn't expecting any privacy, ‘cause if he were than Whitehawk totally mucked up his attempt for friendship.
{Crow's Post}
The pretty she-cat padded out of the warriors den, trailing a white tom who's name she couldn't quite remember, if she'd ever known it in the first place. Her paws skipped along the ground as Sweetleaf happily pranced out, reveling in the cool breeze. Her shorthaired pelt had always done better in the cold, and at one point this greenleaf- which had been especially hot- she'd actually passed out from heat stroke. Leaf-fall was her favorite season, and not just for the temperature- she also loved to watch the trees change in color, blazing with scarlets and oranges that could be found nowhere else.
She watched as the white tom grabbed a mouse and settled next to a yellow tom- the new leader, right? Hadn't he been a kittypet once- and joined at about the same time as her? She had a vague memory of those events occurring, but perhaps her imaginative mind was running wild again. As she got closer, she decided on a plan of action that was sure to bring some amusement to herself, if no one else, and flirt with the new leader. She stepped closer to the tom- Lemonstar?- and began.
Sweetleaf purred, looking over the tom with obvious flirtatiousness in mind. "Us former kittypets really are the best-looking among us, it seems," the she-cat said, hoping desperately he had been a kittypet to avoid embarrassment. He'd said something about it in his speech, she believed, but she'd forgotten by now- her memory wasn't the best. The Ragdoll made herself comfortable on the springy grass, sleek pelt refracting light as she lay on her stomach.
{My post}
Lemonstar was taking another bite of the squirrel as he heard pawsteps coming towards him. He lifted his head, swallowing the bite he had taken. He recognized the warrior as Whitehawk, whom he knew a little, but not that much. At his greeting, Lemon nodded and smiled. "Good morning to you too Whitehawk." Spotting the mouse at the warriors paws, Lemonstar felt instantly bad. "I'm not going to eat this squirrel alone, would you like some?" He asked, pushing it towards Whitehawk. That sentence was an invite for the warrior to sit down and visit.
His attention was turned towards a beautiful she-cat who had just pranced over, her fur shining and eyes bright. At her comment, Lemonstar let out a little laugh, a smirk crawling onto his face. As she settled down beside him, Lemonstar made a comment of his own. "Yes, we really are." He purred with amusement. "Although some of the pure-bred warriors have good looks as well. He paused, then remembered his manners. "Sweetleaf, right?" He asked the molly, flicking his gaze back to Whitehawk to show that the other tom was still invited into the conversation.