The winter pelted she-cat sat in the clearing of her camp, her tail was neatly curled around her paws, while her eyes were dull with boredom. Opening her jaws in a yawn she began washing herself before rising to her paws and trotting to the camp entrance. Frostheart pushed through the weeds, and pricked her ears immediately. Quickly she crouched down, keeping he belly low, she stalked a water vole. The creature was clearly clueless of her presence, and with recognition of the animals stupidity, Frostheart leaped after it, capturing it in her paws and taking its life with a swift bite. Silently she buried her prey to come back to it later and continued on with her hunt.

The lithe medicine cat had caught sight of the brightly-hued warrior, and slowly padded up to her with a nod and a smile. "Nice catch," Sorrelfoot mewed, after placing her bundle of herbs down onto the forest floor. "If you're heading to the stream, be cautious, the currents seem to be quite heavy today," she warned.

Frostheart's eyes shone with delight at the medicine cat's praise and twitched her ears at the lithe she-cats warning. "I will, Sorrelfoot." she purred with amusement. Brushing the she-cat's shoulder with her tail, Frostheart was about to bound off but hesitated. "Do you need any herbs from near the stream?" she had decided to ask before she continued her hunt. "I'd be happy to grab them for you while I’m out."

"Hm, maybe pick up some coltsfoot and fennel from downstream?" Sorrelfoot finally replied after thinking seriously about her stock. "And a bit more yarrow, thanks, Frostheart," the she-cat dipped her head with a smile broad across her facial features. She had been out for the morning but had totally spaced and forgot to grab the herbs. Of course, she had been thinking about the previous day with Fawnflower.

Frostheart let out a loud, kind purr before setting off toward the stream. The snow-dappled she-cat padded along the stream, her jaws open for scents of the herbs she had offered to obtain for Sorrelfoot. Her graceful paws stopped dead as she lifted her cranium to receive more accurate knowledge to the scents around her. She slowly began to recognize the scents of Coltsfoot, and fennel. Frostheart followed the scent trail to the herbs and carefully began picking them, careful not to squish the juices onto her tongue. Soon her jaws were full of herbs and she laid them in a pile to pick up later. She broke into a run, to continue her hunt while also keeping her optics peeled for any yarrow. Finally the she-cat had managed to catch 2 plump mice, and one more water vole and a batch of yarrow before she had decided to call it a day. Frostheart followed her scent trails through the territory collecting her fresh-kill and Sorrelfoot's herbs finally arriving back to camp before sundown.