Icestar sitting around

Icestar yawned, walking out of his den. His shoulder was sore from the thorn that was on his nest, but he had worse done to him, he was still fairly young to be a leader but still. He padded down from were his den was, walking to the fresh-kill-pile. He grabbed a small, skinny mouse from the some-what small pile of prey. He ate it in a few bites, he went down to a lush part of grass, sunning himself.