As the sky lightened, Hollypaw noticed a shape silhouetted on the crest. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make it out. She could not gauge its size. But as the dawn light washed over the hilltop, she recognized the shape as feline, with a face that tapered at the muzzle, a long, smooth back, and a curving tail, bushed at the tip. There was something proud and magnificent about the way it held its head; the large, wide-spaced ears prickled as it surveyed the lake below.

Hollypaw stiffened. “It’s a lion!”

“A lion?” Sorreltail dashed to join her. “Where?”

Hollypaw pointed with her nose at the figure standing motionless on the hill.

Sorreltail shook her head. “It’s just a cat.” She peered harder. “Doesn’t look like WindClan, though. It’s far too stocky and long-haired.”

Hollypaw blinked, realizing Sorreltail was right. But for a moment it really had looked like a lion; she’d heard of them in stories whispered in the nursery when she was a kit—huge and fierce, rising like the sun to defeat all their enemies.

“We’ve reset the markers!” Brackenfur called from the treeline. “We should head back so the dawn patrol can leave.”

Sorreltail turned and dashed away to join him. Hollypaw dragged her gaze from the strange cat still standing on the horizon. Was it watching them?

“Hollypaw reckons she saw a lion,” Sorreltail told Brackenfur and Thornclaw as they padded back to camp. “On the moor.”

“A lion?” Brackenfur’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Are you sure you weren’t still dreaming?”

“No, I wasn’t!” Hollypaw mewed defensively. “And it did look like a lion.”

“It did look strange,” Sorreltail agreed. “Not a WindClan cat, that’s for sure.”

“Just so long as it doesn’t cross our border,” Thornclaw growled.

Cinderpaw was nosing her way out of the medicine cat’s den as Hollypaw padded into camp. She limped around the clearing, heading for the thorn tunnel.

Hollypaw fell in beside her. “Where are you going?”

“Swimming.”

“On your own?” Hollypaw asked in surprise.

“Jaypaw’s busy sorting herbs, and Leafpool says I’ll be okay if I take it slowly.”

Hollypaw noticed that Cinderpaw’s words were no longer punctuated with gasps of pain. “Is it feeling better?”

“Lots.” Cinderpaw stopped and stretched. Her injured leg trembled with the strain, but she didn’t flinch.

“Can I come with you?” Hollypaw asked.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not anymore.” The sight of the “lion” on the moorland had jerked her wide-awake.

Cinderpaw purred. “I’d love the company.” She glanced sideways at Hollypaw. “Do you want me to teach you how to swim?”

Hollypaw shivered at the thought of a cold, wet pelt. “No, thanks!”