the early bird ate too many worms and died. scorchwatcher.

scorchwatcher - loonpaw
    The hunting patrol was here, cats and cats and cats depositing their contributions into the fresh kill pile. They rubbed one another in silent thanks and congratulation, mouths still stuffed with their prey. It was one of Scorchwatcher's favorite times of the day; when all the cats came together to hunt, to provide, to eat and to give thanks once all was done. He adored being a part of the clans, and his clan members, so it was especially lovely to see them all coming together to appreciate all that was good about this configuration.
    The dark tom made his way into the commotion, warmth radiating of of him as he weaved through his clan members, nudging a few with his nose and flank as he passed in greeting. His whiskers jetted out curiously; he'd done his share of hunting at dawn, and that was the last time he'd eaten. The hunger was beginning to bite.
    Scorchwatcher wasn't the most pushy of cats during mealtime, however, and he soon found himself shifting off to the side of the crowd, waiting for the hungry and the upset to take their picks.
    It seemed he'd landed himself in a pile of feathers discarded by a particularly inexperienced (and if he could guess, really anxious to get that bird underneath) de-featherer, however. And to be fair, Windclan wasn't particularly known for their skills in feather plucking; the actual appearance of  any kind of bird in the fresh kill pile was few and far between. Most of his clanmates were accustomed to the plush rabbits and rodents of the territory's plains, and Scorchwatcher was hardly an exception. He tiptoed around the dark feathers strewn around his paws with utmost care.
    "Sorry, Scorchwatcher! Did you want some?"
    The words surprised him--high in pitch, a young cat was probably talking to him, inviting him to do something. A wave of anxiety washed over Scorchwatcher, and he reminded himself where he was. There were other cats everywhere, he was just off the side of a crowd, there wasn't anything he could do. The other cats would see him and take him down. That eased his anxiety a little, and he turned his muzzle to face the black and white apprentice settled over what looked like it was once a blackbird between his paws. He was definitely a little thing, a little voice in the back of his head jabbed. You could kill him in a second.
    Despite this, Scorchwatcher didn't betray his own anxiety, trying to think of a response. He flinched and jutted his posture away from Loonpaw as the little apprentice moved in, tipping his chin just above the area of Loonpaw's jaws after his bird hit Scorchwatcher's chin. It was more obvious to see just how sloppy of a job the apprentice had done, up close like that, but it wasn't that unappetizing to Scorchwatcher. It was still good meat.
    "Apprentices need all the prey they can get to grow strong and train hard; I wouldn't dare," his smile was soft, but he was visibly more tense than he was before. It was a somewhat common appearance for Scorchwatcher.
    He was definitely just looking for a way out; he would've offered to bring some more back for them to share, were Loonpaw an older warrior, but Scorchwatcher wasn't looking to extend his visit. It wasn't that he didn't like the kindhearted young cat; on the contrary, to harm this innocent cat would be the death of him. And yet he was convinced that, despite how even the idea of it made his stomach churn, he would.
    But it wouldn't do just to leave, either. That might hurt the kind apprentice's feelings. Scorchwatcher glanced back at the cats around the prey pile--still a sizeable crowd. He had some time to chat, he supposed..
    "It looks like you've been having a bit of a tough time with those feathers," Scorchwatcher lifted his paws and gestured to the black feathers he'd carefully placed them between and laughed cordially, not meaning to offend. He met the apprentice's gaze. The calm, affable look he usually wore was placed carefully back onto his face, but his pupils contracted oddly in the mid-light, as if he was trying to limit his vision.
    "You don't have to pluck them all like that. It's painful and it'll take a while. You can just tear it open like a fat mouse; birds aren't built tough like clan cats. Or even rabbits." He smiled again, briefly glancing away as he took a seat not-too-close to Loonpaw and brushed some of the feathers into a pile with his tail, out of the traffic area. He met the other cat's direction with his eyes once again, but didn't make a move to demonstrate. "I wouldn't eat the wings, though," he chuckled. Scorchwatcher wasn't a bird expert, either.

NOTES: dunno how many words this is bc i wrote it in the table but write as much as u like i got a little carried away haha..