“She’s smart enough to be careful,” Jaypaw pointed out. “She’s worked hard to recover, and she knows better than both of us what she can and can’t manage.” He pressed on. “Don’t forget that she wants to become a warrior. She’s not going to do anything that will threaten that.”

Leafpool didn’t reply.

“Just trust her,” Jaypaw urged. And trust me!

Leafpool sighed. “Can you tell what’s going on in the forest?”

Relieved to change the subject, Jaypaw cast his hearing beyond the confines of the hollow, concentrating on the faraway shrieking, and gradually began to recognize yowls and screeches.

“Dustpelt’s patrol is fighting by the lakeside,” he told her. “Firestar’s patrol has been ambushed near the WindClan border. Brambleclaw’s patrol is under attack near the Twoleg nest.”

He wished she hadn’t asked him. Now his mind swirled with images of cat fighting cat, of blood-soaked pelts, of flesh ripping between teeth. He shivered. “Let me go out there,” he begged.

Leafpool stiffened. “No way!”

“Our Clanmates are getting injured,” he protested. “I could bring them back to the hollow.” He had to do something to help his Clan. He was no use here, even if WindClan attacked.

“But it’s dark,” Leafpool argued.

“Do you think that makes a difference to me?” Jaypaw let his wide, blank gaze rest on her. “In fact, it’ll help. I’ll be able to hear cats when they can’t see me.”

He sensed Leafpool soften. “You will be careful, though?”

“I’m not going to get myself hurt.” I’m too important to let that happen.

“It would be good to start treating the wounded as soon as we can.”

Jaypaw sensed a tremor beneath her mew. There had never been a battle like this before, fought in so many places within a single territory. He reached into her mind and found her thoughts swathed not in fog, but in darkness.

They were all flailing around in the unknown.

Jaypaw stood up. “The sooner I get going, the better.”

Leafpool leaned forward and pressed her muzzle to his cheek. “Be careful,” she whispered.

Outside the thorn tunnel, Jaypaw sensed Graystripe tense with surprise.

“Where are you going?” the gray warrior demanded.

“Leafpool says I can go look for wounded cats.”

Graystripe hesitated.

“Do you want an escort?” Whitewing offered.

“It’ll be easier to stay hidden if I’m on my own,” Jaypaw reasoned.

“Keep low,” Graystripe advised. “If you hear trouble, head away from it.”

“I will,” Jaypaw promised. He padded away from the hollow.

“StarClan be with you!” Whitewing called.

As he weaved through the trees, picking his way over roots and around trailing bushes, Jaypaw wondered if any cats were with him. What about Fallen Leaves’ ancestors? Or the Tribe’s?