Birdsong stretched as he walked out of the warriors' den. The air was fresh and cold because of Leaf-bare. He tried to smell something like fresh-kill or flowers but the air was too cool and too crisp to smell anything else. Birdsong sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to hunt because of this.
Birdsong walked over to the fresh-kill pile just as his stomach growled. He grabbed a vole and trotted over to a small sunny spot that could probably only fit one or two cats.
He took a bite of the vole and tried to relish all the flavor he could, but to no avail. Leaf-bare was just too cold for the prey and it was already becoming tasteless and slightly crunchy. He sighed again and forced himself to swallow the mouthful and bite into the vole once more.
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Lefty the bear