All those dens together must be Twoleg camps.

Dovewing stood in a line with her Clanmates, wind flattening their fur and whistling around their ears. Instantly noise blasted through her mind, almost driving her back down the hill. Chaotic visions spiraled in front of her eyes; she froze, paws digging into the ground, as she tried to make sense of what she could see and hear. But the solid hilltop seemed to melt away under her paws, and she was whirled into a storm of noise and color.

A glittering red monster growled out of a flat-roofed Twoleg den; Twoleg kits ran and screeched; a huge black-and-white animal she’d never seen before stared at her from liquid eyes, its jaws moving rhythmically; a male Twoleg pushed a tiny, snarling monster across a stretch of grass, snapping at the stems; more dogs than she’d ever imagined were barking all together; somewhere water was gushing; the scent of crow-food washed over her.

Sick and giddy, Dovewing squeezed her eyes shut, but the whirl of images continued.

“Dovewing! Dovewing!” Foxleap’s voice cut faintly across the turmoil.

Dovewing couldn’t move. She tried to reply to Foxleap, but she couldn’t form the words. Then she became aware of another cat standing close to her.

“Dovewing!” It was Jayfeather’s voice, quiet but incisive. “Focus on me. Block out the rest of the noise.”

“Can’t—” Gasping out a single word was a huge effort.

“Yes, you can. Come on—concentrate!”

His voice was sharp, like a splash of icy water. One by one, Dovewing drew her senses back in. She dared to open her eyes and made out the blurred shape of Jayfeather in front of her.

“That’s better.” She could hear his voice more clearly now. “Focus harder. Don’t let go.”

There was still a dull, aching roar in Dovewing’s head, but she could feel the ground under her paws again, and see her companions; Squirrelflight and Foxleap were staring at her in alarm.

Foxleap drew his tail-tip gently down her side. “It’s all right,” he whispered.

“Are you okay to go on?” Squirrelflight demanded bluntly. “If you’re not, just tell us. It’s not too late for you to go back.”

Dovewing couldn’t stop trembling. She guessed that down by the lake, the hills had shielded her special senses from the outside world. There would be nothing to protect her now. So she’d have to learn to protect herself. The dull roar inside her head threatened to increase, but she pushed it back down. She took a deep breath and faced Squirrelflight, struggling to keep her voice even. “I’ll be fine. I want to keep going.”

Squirrelflight gave her a hard look, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She began to lead the way down the slope into the trees.

Foxleap padded close beside Dovewing, their pelts brushing. “Walk with me,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Dovewing was still so shaken that she didn’t have the strength to be angry with him for assuming she was frightened of leaving familiar territory.