He arched his back as the yowls and screeches of FireClan cats split the night. He had heard the battle on AirClan territory. At this rate, those fox-hearted cats might take over the whole forest. They were taking territory from all the clans, and their vile stench was stuck in his nose. He snorted and shook his head in order to clear it, before padding down through the marshy camp. Miststar looked forlornly over to the fresh-kill pile, which was dwindling. How could they eat if they had no hunting grounds? They had lost another cat that day, the elderly Roseglow. Duckpaw was curled next to Fawndrop, another elder, and they were curled together in a tight ball. He watched them for awhile before padding off into his den to rest.