Written in the Stars

Heronswoop was having another insomnia spell. He wanted nothing more than to just pass out and forget his troubles for a bit, but every time he shut his eyes his mind would race with seemingly unrelated thoughts. Maybe tomorrow I could go along with one of the mentors and help with training. Or I could ask to be on extra hunting patrols. How do crawfish make the above-ground tunnels? Their thin clippers wouldn't be of much help picking up mud. Perhaps, next time I eat one, I could carefully crack the shell so that I could put it back together for the apprentices. Starclan, it gets could out there in the mud at night.

And so, when his thoughts get too loud to handle, he carefully extracts himself from his nest and scurries through the short tunnels of the warriors den to get to the main camp. He didn't particularly want to go traipsing through the swampy mud at this hour just to look at the sky, but there wasn't much places to see it in camp, either. So, instead, Heronswoop settled for pacing around the bone pile. Lap one, lap two, lap three. He begins humming a soft tune to himself. Lap four, lap five, lap six. The crushing ideas and half-formed thoughts weren't as crushing as before. Lap seven, lap eight, lap nine. Heronswoop decides to count how many individual animals he can spot in the bone pile.