There was a long beat of silence, and Lynxheart found herself waiting, heart in her throat, for someone to speak. Finally, Bird meowed, "Meadowleap, can you go fetch Smoketalon? Let him know what's happened, and tell him I need to speak with him."

Meadowleap nodded, and exited the den, leaving it less crowded. Owlstar made as if to leave, but Bird glared at the leader, and, cowed, the she-cat found a spot in one of empty alcoves in the rock face to settle down. Bird turned to Lynxheart. "Hold these cobwebs for me," he instructed, passing the she-cat the aforementioned cobwebs.

Lyxheart took them, watching as the healer took out some herbs from his store and crushed them between his teeth, before spreading the poultice across Fincheye's injury. The tom let out a pained hiss, and Lynxheart winced in sympathy.

"Cobwebs," Bird ordered, and Lyxheart passed them to him. The tom wrapped them around the warrior's leg, securing the herbs.

He repeated the process with Yarrowflight's major wounds as well. By that point, the she-cat had begun to rouse, and asked, "What's going on?"

"We were ambushed," Fincheye meowed, "you hit your head on a rock pretty hard when you were fighting one of the rogues."

"Oh. Ouch," the she-cat added, as Bird pressed the poultice to one of her flanks, where the skin had been ripped off, and red muscle showed beneath, bleeding from a set of clawmarks. "Could you possibly be any less gentle?"

"Is it possible for you to be a little less injured?" Bird shot back, tugging the cobwebs into place. "There," he said. "And no patrolling for the next two days, unless you want your wounds to get inflamed."

Yarrowflight's whiskers twitched; obviously displeased with the verdict, but she didn't protest.

There was a rustle, and Smoketalon entered. He addressed Bird. "You wanted to talk to me?"

The healer nodded. "Yes. Meadowleap's told you what happened?" At the she-cat's nod, he continued. "I think it would be a good idea if you assigned two warriors to guard Owlstar, to ensure her safety."

Smoketalon frowned. "Are you sure that's necessary? Owlstar is young, and an excellent fighter. And we need our warriors to be patrolling for signs of the rogues."

Bird shook his head. "We never know when they might attack," he meowed. "And if you make patrols smaller, but more frequent, you should be able to spare two warriors."

Smoketalon looked distinctly unhappy; but she nodded. "I suppose so," she said. "All right. Owlstar, do you have any preferences?"

The she-cat rose from the alcove she had been tucked into. "Swiftfoot and Fernwhisker, I think," she said. "They're both good fighters, and have a good sense of danger."

Her deputy nodded again. "I agree with your choices. I'll go let them know of their new assignment."

With that, she departed the den, Owlstar following after her. Bird finished applying the last of the cobwebs to Yarrowflight's wounds. "Alright, you all can go now," he said. "I'm starting to feel like a vole with so many cats packed into my den."

Fincheye's whiskers twitched; eyes twinkling; and he stood. Along with Lynxheart, he helped Yarrowflight to her paws, and the three of them made their way out of the healer's den and back out into camp proper.

Lynxheart woke slowly; with a wide yawn. The was a crackle as her jaw opened, her tongue flicking out for a moment to taste the air.

It tasted fresh, and new, and full of possibilities; and Lynxheart rose, casting a gaze over the still sleeping forms of the warriors in the den; her gaze catching on Yarrowflight's form. It had been almost a moon since the other had been attacked by the rogues, and her flank had healed up nicely; the fur regrowing, bright and beautiful, over it. Suddenly, her chest felt warm and full.

She slipped out of the den and into camp proper, revelling in the warmth of the early newleaf sunlight. The ground beneath her paws was cold, but it had a promise to it.

Her ears flicked, picking up pawsteps, and she turned around to find Smoketalon, Willowsong, and Robinwing standing behind her. "Are you up for morning patrol?" Smoketalon meowed.

Lynxheart hummed. "Sure," she said. "Where do you want me patrolling?"

"The Leopardclan border—you'll be with Robinwing and Willowsong," the she-cat replied, indicating the two toms by her side with a flick of her tail. "They've been good with their scentmarks, so you won't have to worry about that. Just a routine check."

"Understood," Robinwing meowed. "Willowsong? Lynxheart?"

"Ready," the two replied in unison; and they fell into step beside the tom.

The walk to the border was peaceful; and the birdsong filled the air. When they reached the boundary line, they took turns scentmarking the various rocks and heather bushes that made up the boundary.

Just as they were about to make their way back to camp, Willowsong stopped. "Can anyone else smell that?" he asked. "Is that—Leopardclan?"

Robinsong turned to him, looking puzzled. "What—the scentmarks?"

He shook his head. "No, it's recent—there!"

Lynxheart lifted her nose. "No, I smell it too," she said. "The wind's picking up, bringing their scent towards us. Are we going to wait for them?"

"Might be a good idea to," Willowsong mused. "Unless anyone has any objections?"

The other two shook their heads. "Alright, then," Willowsong said. "We'll wait."

A little while later, the silhouettes of four Leopardclan cats appeared over the crest of the hill. When they drew close, Willowsong called out, "Hello?"

One of the warriors—small, dark-furred, with a short tail and raggedy ears—squinted, before calling, "Willowsong?"

"Sandflight?" the tom questioned. "I'm surprised you're on patrol! I thought your kits had only just left the nursery!"

The she-cat looked agitated. "I'm going to skip the pleasantries," she said, tersely, "have either of you seen a group of cats come by this way? One was large and dark—"

The three Birdclan cats exchanged glances. "No, why?" Lynxheart asked.

"Servalstar was killed when a group of rogues attacked camp," the she-cat said, grimly. "Marshdapple is acting as leader for now, but the clan's been thrown into disarray—the only reason I'm out on patrol is that we wanted to get a patrol out to each clan and see if anyone had seen anything."

"Oh, Ancestors," Lynxheart breathed. Suddenly, the lightheartedness from earlier vanished, as if it were a vole eaten up by a hungry warrior.

"Do you know something?" Sandflight asked; her gaze sharpening.

"We had a patrol attacked by a cat who we think may have been one of the ones who attacked your camp," Lynxheart explained grimly.

"Yarrowflight and Fincheye?" Robinwing asked.

Lynxheart nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright," Willowsong meowed. "We'll pass that information along to Smoketalon and Owlstar. Do you need us to send herbs to your healer to treat any wounded?"

The she-cat shook her head. "No, we've got it covered," she said.

Willowsong nodded. "We'd better get back to camp, then."

With that, the two patrols split ways; the Leopardclan patrol making its way back into their own territory, while the Birdclan patrol made their way back towards their own camp.

When they arrived, the camp was in pandemonium. Smoketalon greeted them with a grim expression. "Owlstar went hunting this morning," she said. "Swiftfoot and Fernwhisker just returned—they were attacked by a group of rogues, and Owlstar was kidnapped."