As they reached the first of the trees, Jayfeather signed to Dovewing to halt, and let Foxleap pad on alone for a few paw steps. “Did you see the mountain cats?” he hissed into Dovewing’s ear.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Jayfeather let out a frustrated snort. Guilt weighed down Dovewing’s paw steps even more. I should have tried to find out something helpful for the journey.

As she padded farther into the trees, her feelings of uneasiness faded. She was growing used to blocking out the rush of sensations, and she thought that the surrounding trees were cutting off some of the images that assailed her. This forest was very like ThunderClan territory, too; she began to feel at home, and even to enjoy the journey.

“Bet you can’t leap over that!” Foxleap challenged her when they came to a shallow stream.

“Bet I can!” Dovewing retorted, racing up to the bank and pushing off strongly so that her paws landed squarely on the cool moss beyond.

Foxleap jumped after her, but one hind paw slipped as he took off, and he landed with his hindquarters in the stream, droplets splashing up his legs and into his belly fur.

“Clumsy furball!” Dovewing called with a mrrow of laughter.

Foxleap hauled himself out, shaking his reddish tabby pelt. “I’ll show you who’s a furball!” he meowed, launching himself after Dovewing.

With a squeal of excitement, Dovewing pelted away, hiding behind the drooping branches of a willow tree. Foxleap dived after her, chasing her around the trunk and batting at her tail with his forepaws, his claws sheathed.

“Honestly! Are you kits?” Squirrelflight’s voice came from outside the screen of willow boughs.

“Oops!” Dovewing exchanged a guilty glance with Foxleap. She poked her head out through the branches to see Squirrelflight standing a couple of tail-lengths away, her tail-tip twitching. “Sorry.”

Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “There’s a long way to go,” she meowed, not sounding as angry as Dovewing had expected. “You need to save your energy. We’re going to hunt now and then rest.”

“But I’m not sleepy!” Foxleap protested, popping his head out of the willow screen beside Dovewing. “I could run forever.”

Squirrelflight just heaved a long sigh and stalked away. Cautiously Dovewing extended her senses until she found a vole scuffling under the bank of the stream she had just crossed. Setting her paws down as light as leaves falling, she crept up on it. It has no idea that I’m here, she thought. I guess the prey in these woods aren’t used to cats hunting.

Reaching the edge of the stream, she pounced and straightened up with the vole in her jaws. Glancing around, she spotted Jayfeather sitting on the bank a little farther upstream. “Here,” she meowed, padding over and dropping the vole at his paws. “I can easily catch more.”

“Thanks. And we need to talk.”

Dovewing nodded, then remembered that Jayfeather couldn’t see her. “Okay. Just wait for me to find some more prey.”