Dawnstar snarled and kneaded the dirt with her claws. "Those flea-ridden excuses for cats!" she spat. "They're mouse-brains to trespass on our territory! Goldenleaf, Whitetail, and Crowtail, go to the abandoned badger sett and ambush them if they come near. Volenose, Heatherclaw, and Cindertail will do the same at the river bend. And, ah, Dawnstorm, Horse-ear, and Tanglepelt, you go to the BirchClan border and look for them. If they're gone already, ambush them near the boulders. Make them wish they'd never been born!"

As the cats sped away, Shoalpaw stepped out from where the apprentices were huddled. "What about us?"

"Guard the camp," Dawnstar replied immediately. "You will stand at the entrance. Cheetahpaw, do the same at the dirtplace tunnel. Hazelpaw and Thistlepaw, keep the kits and the elders safe. They can stay in my den until all this is over. Specklepaw and Streamleaf, I expect you to be getting herbs ready." With that, the black she-cat leapt down from the ledge she was standing on and ran out of the camp.

"All right," Shoalpaw yowled, taking her place. "You heard her. Let's get going!" He and Cheetahpaw padded off to the entrance and peered out, talking quietly.

"Mother!" Dark-kit wailed. "Mother, where are you?"

"Right here." Featherheart mewed shortly, coming up behind her and grabbing her scruff. Swinging wildly, the kit was carried up to the leader's den. "Wait," the queen instructed, and ducked out. She returned a few heartbeats later with Shellkit in her jaws. The little kit was mewling pitifully and shivering.

Paws thundered up the slope behind her, and Dustfur ran in. The gray she-cat was carrying Tigerkit by the scruff. Dark-kit was surprised to see Brook-kit and Smokekit swaying as they hung on to their mother's back. They tumbled off, and Mousekit scrambled into the den. A larger cat shoved its way in, and Dark-kit recognized Vivian.

"Hurry!" Hazelpaw's frantic mew rose in pitch, and the sound of screeching cats – fighting cats – could be heard. BirchClan had reached the camp.

Vivian squeezed her way into the already-crowded den. Goosenose did the same, but no other cat followed.

"Thrushtail!" Dark-kit yowled. "Thrushtail! Where's Thrushtail?" When no cat answered, she weaved between the legs of the other cats and out of the den. A shocking scene met her eyes.

Cats from both ElmClan and BirchClan were writhing in the clearing below. She saw Tanglepelt and Volenose fighting a large white she-cat, and realized with a jolt of fear that Snowstar, the BirchClan leader, had joined the fight.

"Dark-kit!" A shocked yowl caught her attention. The little kit whipped her head around and saw her father staring at her in horror. As she watched, Horse-ear was knocked off his paws by a gray tom that she recognized from the stories as Smokestorm. The yellow tom was completely focused on the battle once more.

Dark-kit's gaze swept across the camp, but before she found Thrushtail, she was being picked up by the scruff once again. But this time, it wasn't her mother or any other ElmClan cat – it was Hollyclaw, the BirchClan deputy and a formidable fighter.

"Help!" Dark-kit yelped as she was carried through the battling cats. All around her were snarling, screeching cats of both Clans, and she could smell blood in the air. "Help me!" she squeaked again.

A brown tom careened towards Hollyclaw and bowled the warrior over. In her surprise, the BirchClan cat dropped Dark-kit and retaliated viciously. The two cats stood a few paw steps apart for a few heartbeats, and Dark-kit's stomach lurched as she noticed the tom's blank eyes.

Then the two cats were brawling once more. Now Hollyclaw had recovered from the surprise and was attacking with all of her strength.

"Stop! Stop!" Dark-kit shrieked, unable to do anything. "Stop it!" But of course, it was no use. The two cats continued to fight as if she hadn't spoken.

Then the battle reached a turning point. Hollyclaw's paw connected with the tom's foreleg, and he began to use only three legs. Not long after, he received a deep gash in his side. Not only that, but Dark-kit could see that he was tiring quickly. Despite his injuries, the tom continued to protect her, valiantly taking blow after blow.

As the two cats fought, Dark-kit realized that all of the other BirchClan cats were gone. But her attention was recaptured as Hollyclaw crowed in delight. The brown tom was backing away, bleeding from numerous wounds. He staggered backwards, breathing heavily, and fell on his side. The brave cat's flank rose and fell one last time, and then he was still.

Dark-kit's breath caught in her throat as she took in the ratty brown pelt and the yellow eyes that had been blank and unseeing even in life. She felt a yowl rising in her chest as she recognized at last the wonderful, kind tom that had died for her.

It was Thrushtail.