“She was such an amazing cat,” Dovewing meowed. “I sometimes think she had more courage than the rest of the Clan put together. I’ll never forget her. I just wish I could have been there to say good-bye to her.”

All the while the three kits were bouncing around their mother’s paws, demanding to know all about Clan life and their kin.

“Will we be made warriors?” Pouncekit asked.

“Not right away,” Dovewing told them. “You have to be apprentices first, and you’re not quite old enough for that yet.”

That drew a groan of protest from all three kits, but soon they were chasing around again, extending their tiny claws and bushing up their soft fur.

“I’m a warrior! Get off our territory!”

“No, you get off, mange-pelt!”

“I don’t know where they get their energy from,” Dovewing sighed.

Now, with the camp entrance in sight, she halted and faced Alderheart. Even in the faint light of the waning moon, he could see how nervous she looked.

“Do you think ThunderClan will forgive me?” she asked. “I ran away, and now I’m leaving to join another Clan. How can they see it as anything but a betrayal?”

Alderheart had an uneasy feeling that she might be right, but he tried to reassure her. “Every cat has been worried about you,” he mewed. “They’ll be so relieved to see you that they’ll understand.”

Dovewing didn’t look as if she entirely believed him, but she said no more, and let Alderheart lead the way through the thorn tunnel and into the camp.

Inside the stone hollow the Clan hadn’t yet begun to stir, and at first Alderheart thought that no cats at all were outside their dens. Then two figures loomed up beside him: Twigbranch and Finleap, keeping their warrior vigil.

At first Twigbranch simply dipped her head to Alderheart as he entered, but when she saw Dovewing and her kits following him, she let out an excited squeal, completely forgetting the rule that she should stay silent.

“Dovewing!”

Her cry echoed around the camp. For a moment it was followed by silence; then cats came bundling out of the warriors’ den, racing across the camp to surround Dovewing and the kits. Graystripe and Millie bounded over from their nests under the hazel bush, while Jayfeather and Leafpool appeared, blinking, at the entrance to the medicine cats’ den.

So Leafpool is home from RiverClan, Alderheart thought, pleased to see her again.

Fastest of all, Ivypool shot out of the nursery and skidded to a halt beside her sister, pressing up against her and drinking in her scent. For a few moments she was unable to speak, she was purring so hard.

“Where have you been?” Dovewing’s father, Birchfall, thrust his way through the crowd, with her mother, Whitewing, hard on his paws. “We thought you were dead.”

“It’s so wonderful to see you again!” Whitewing exclaimed.