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.