Then he spotted a male Twoleg a few fox-lengths farther along the shore. He was calling into the trees, and waving a long tendril gripped in one of his forepaws. When he saw the dog, he let out an angry yowl. The dog skidded to a halt, then turned and trotted off in the direction of the Twoleg with its ears down. The Twoleg fastened the tendril to its collar and dragged it away.

Lionblaze watched it go, then circled back and joined Toadstep in the undergrowth at the edge of the shore. “Thanks,” he panted, flopping down in a clump of ferns. “It would have got me for sure if you hadn’t been there.”

Toadstep sank down beside him. “I couldn’t leave you to face it alone.”

“Exactly.” Lionblaze realized that he had a chance to drive home the point he had been trying to make earlier. “It’s a good lesson in not trying to tackle enemies by yourself. It’s always better to fight in pairs.”

The younger warrior nodded, his eyes wide with wonder. “Yeah, but you fell in that patch of brambles, and you still don’t have a scratch on you!”

“It’s a good thing I have a thick pelt,” Lionblaze mewed, glad of the excuse. Glancing at his flanks, he added, “And I think I left most of it on the thorns!”

When Lionblaze and Toadstep returned to the clearing, they found Cinderheart, Bumblestripe, and Rosepetal clustered around Briarlight. The she-cat was lying crookedly beneath a holly bush; Lionblaze guessed that Bumblestripe had shoved her under there when the dog first appeared.

“Has it gone?” Cinderheart asked, swinging around as Lionblaze and Toadstep approached.

Lionblaze nodded. “A Twoleg took it away.” Peering under the bush, he called, “Are you okay, Briarlight?”

“I would be, if you’d just get me out of here,” Briarlight retorted, sounding fed up and embarrassed.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Cinderheart meowed. “We’ll get you out now that Lionblaze is here to help.”

“Oh, just drag me out like an old stick!” Briarlight snapped. “It’s not like you can hurt me any more, can you?”

“Take it easy.” Cinderheart reached under the bush to rest a comforting paw on the young she-cat’s shoulder.

Briarlight shrugged her off. “I’m going to get into so much trouble!” she wailed. “But I can’t stand to be stuck in that den any longer.”

“It’s my fault,” Bumblestripe admitted. “I’m the one who brought you out here.”

Lionblaze looked at the young warrior, impressed by his dedication to his littermate. It must have been a struggle to drag her all the way from the camp.

“I won’t let any cat blame you, Bumblestripe,” Briarlight insisted, her voice strained and high-pitched. “I talked you into it!”

This isn’t getting us anywhere, Lionblaze thought. Feeling uncomfortable in the face of so much emotion, he added, “We need to get both of you back to camp.”

Working together, Lionblaze and Cinderheart gently drew Briarlight out of the holly bush. Lionblaze crouched down so that the other cats could drape her over his back. He rose to his paws, unsteady under her weight, and set out for the hollow, with Bumblestripe and Toadstep steadying her on either side.