“I wish it could be greenleaf forever.” Sorreltail was padding beside Jaypaw, letting her pelt brush his.

“Yeah.” He drew away from her. He knew this part of the forest well enough not to need guiding. Pushing hard against the leafy forest floor, he broke into a run and charged along the familiar track.

“Wait for me!” Sorreltail called in surprise.

They caught up to Graystripe and Mousewhisker at the top of the rise. The trees ended here as the forest turned to grassland, sloping down to the lake.

Mousewhisker was panting.

“He almost got his squirrel,” Graystripe meowed proudly. “But it scooted up that tree.”

Leaves rustled overhead.

“If that dumb blackbird hadn’t called the alarm,” Mousewhisker grumbled.

“You’ll get the next one,” Graystripe told him encouragingly.

Sorreltail kneaded the ground. “I can’t wait to hunt with my kits when they’re warriors.” Pride warmed her mew. “Honeypaw, Poppypaw, and Cinderpaw will be having their assessment any day now.”

Jaypaw tensed. Was Cinderpaw’s leg really strong enough?

“It’ll be great having them in our den,” Mousewhisker put in. “It might stop the old warriors from hogging the best nests and stealing all the softest moss.”

Graystripe purred with amusement. “We old warriors need the soft moss for our poor ancient bones.”

“I didn’t mean you two!” Mousewhisker mewed, sounding embarrassed.

“I’m sure Thornclaw and Dustpelt will be pleased to hear that,” Sorreltail teased.

“You won’t tell them?” Mousewhisker squeaked in alarm.

“Of course not!” Sorreltail called over her shoulder as she darted down the slope. “Besides, we’re not old. And once Millie’s kits are born, Graystripe will feel younger than ever.”

Jaypaw hurried after her, enjoying the breeze ruffling his fur. It smelled of the lake.

At the shore, Graystripe paused. “Is this a good place for herbs?”

Jaypaw nodded. “I can get mallow down by the water.”

“Mousewhisker can help you,” Sorreltail volunteered her denmate.

“But what about my—”

“Your squirrel can wait,” Graystripe meowed.

“I guess so.” Mousewhisker swished his tail. “Besides, if we’re going down to the water, I might catch a fish!”

Unlikely, unless you’ve had a RiverClan mentor as well. Jaypaw picked his way down onto the shingle. It shifted satisfyingly beneath his paws.

Mousewhisker padded after him. “The lake’s as smooth as a laurel leaf.”

Jaypaw had guessed that already. He could hear the sound of lazy ripples lapping the shore.

“What does mallow look like?” Mousewhisker asked.

Jaypaw shrugged. “Never seen any.”

Mousewhisker squeaked in dismay. “Sorry!”

“Forget it.” It was just a dumb slip. “It feels soft and kind of furry. The leaves are big.” Jaypaw sniffed the air. He remembered gathering mallow here before. Sure enough, a sweet smell filled his nose. Jaypaw flicked his tail toward the water’s edge. “See that plant over there? That’s mallow.”

“Really?” Mousewhisker sounded impressed.