“Nothin’ to worry about,” Purdy reassured her. “You’ll see.”

Hollyleaf wasn’t sure she could trust the old cat’s judgment. Rounding the next corner, she saw a huge Twoleg nest with a wide expanse of stone on the ground all around it. A fence of narrow, shiny trees cut it off from the Thunderpath. Crowds of Twoleg kits—more Twolegs than she had ever seen together at one time—were running and yowling and throwing things at one another.

“What is this place?” she meowed curiously.

Purdy shrugged. “Dunno. They come here most days.”

Hollyleaf’s belly clenched with shock as the old cat trotted up to the fence and stuck his nose through a gap. At once several of the Twoleg kits ran up to him, stretching out their hands.

“What’s he doing?” Brackenfur muttered. “Purdy!”

Purdy took no notice. The Twoleg kits were reaching through the fence to stroke him; his purr was loud enough to reach the rest of the patrol where they stood a few tail-lengths away.

“Remember, he used to be a kittypet,” Birchfall murmured. “It must make him act weird sometimes.”

Brambleclaw said nothing, just twitched his tail to guide the patrol past the shiny fence at a safe distance. They waited for Purdy a few fox-lengths down, alongside the Thunderpath. As they padded past, Hollyleaf noticed one of the kits pull something out of its pelt and hold it out to Purdy, who licked it up enthusiastically.

Has he no sense?

Eventually a harsh clanging sounded from inside the Twoleg den, and all the kits ran over toward it and stood in a line to go through the entrance. Purdy turned away and came bounding up to the patrol.

“What’re you all starin’ at?” he demanded, puffing.

“Purdy, was that a good idea?” Brambleclaw asked. Hollyleaf could tell he was trying to keep irritation out of his voice. “What did that kit feed you?”

“Dunno.” Purdy’s eyes gleamed as he swiped his tongue around his jaws. “It was real tasty, though.”

Brambleclaw sighed. “Right, let’s go.”

A little farther on, the Twoleg dens became more widely spaced; then they stopped altogether as woodland took over on either side of the Thunderpath. Relief flooded through Hollyleaf from ears to tail-tip as Brambleclaw veered away from the Thunderpath to pad under the trees. Before they had ventured more than a couple of tail-lengths into the wood, he halted.

“This would be a good place to check our direction,” he meowed. “Who feels like climbing a tree?”

“I will!” Lionblaze offered instantly.

“No, I will,” Hazeltail argued. “I’m lighter. I can get up higher.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Okay, Hazeltail.”

Lionblaze looked disgruntled while Hazeltail leaped up the trunk of the nearest tree, digging her claws into the bark. Hollyleaf’s heart thumped as she watched her friend clambering through the leafless branches, higher and higher, until she reached the top of the tree and clung there, swaying in the breeze. Hollyleaf couldn’t stop thinking about how Cinderheart had fallen, back in the forest, and injured her leg.