When Lynxheart awoke, she found that Yarrowflight had curled around her in her sleep. Something about the contact felt more intimate than sharing tongues earlier had, and it tugged at something between her ribs. However, she brushed it off, rising carefully, and took the opportunity to stretch her legs.
A few moments later, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yarrowflight's eyes crack open, and her jaw split with a wide yawn. "Morning," Yarrowflight greeted.
Lynxheart dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I was about to go look for something to eat," she said. "Thought I'd wait for you to wake up so you didn't get startled by my absence and think I'd been kidnapped too."
A wry expression flitted across Yarrowflight's face, and she let out an amused mrow. "Go ahead," she said, "I think I'll do the same—once I don't feel like my tail's all kinked up." Indeed, her normally smoothly flowing tail was bent in various directions. Lynxheart's whiskers twitched, but rather than commenting on it, she turned and padded further into the copse.
Soon, she returned with a small bird. Yarrowflight returned only a few moments later, one of the strange animals Lynxheart had caught before they had gone to sleep in her jaws. She dropped it next to the nest they had pulled together, and then sat down. Lynxheart did the same, and they quickly shared the meal before rising once more—the sun had dipped below the horizon, and if they waited much longer, Owlstar's scent would go stale.
It didn't take them long to get to the edge of the treeline, and beyond that, the moor stretched for some time before it turned into what appeared to be dustier, sandier plains, dotted with dark spots.
As they got closer, Lynxheart realised that the dark spots were actually setts—badger, going by the size, but abandoned for at least a moon. Occasionally, there were also rabbit warrens, with multiple entrances linked together.
They ignored most of them, keeping to the fast-fading scent of their leader. Finally, they came to a large, almost cavernous badger sett entrance. This one was much more recently abandoned, and appeared to be one that was revisited every so often. Coarse black and white hairs had become a part of the dirt entrance, and the scent of badger was almost overwhelming—so much so that they almost walked straight past it.
" Wait, " Lynxheart hissed, opening her mouth slightly to better draw in the scents, "her scent's faint, but it's there. But..." she hesitated. "There's also scents of other cats—two more at least."
"Then we'll be cautious," Yarrowflight said, and padded forward into the sett.
They moved slowly, sticking to the walls, and finally came to a ledge overlooking a large, near-cave tunnel. Before they reached the edge, Yarrowflight froze. "Voices," she murmured, and they both crouched, creeping as close to the edge as they dared without risking being seen, and strained their ears.
"...a back entrance to Minnowclan's camp," one voice said, familiar, but faint enough neither of them could quite make it out. "It leads right to Troutstar's den."
Another voice broke in; this one edged with malice and glee. "And then I'll slit the sentimental fool's throat!" it cackled.
The other voice spoke once more; and this time, Lynxheart's eyes widened. "Indeed. And then nothing will stand in the way of our attack upon the clans—soon, I shall rule them all." Dark satisfaction seeped into the voice, and suddenly, Lynxheart knew who it was.
" Owlstar, " she whispered.
Yarrowflight's own eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, before Lynxheart shook her head, and flicked her ear, gesturing over the ledge—one of the cats had become visible. It was a large, dark she-cat with black and sandy yellow dappling, and the sight tugged at something in Lynxheart's mind she couldn't quite recall.
"That's the cat who attacked me," Yarrowflight whispered.
Owlstar came into view; and the dark she-cat dipped her head to the leader—no, the traitor. "Long live the Captain!" she called; and a moment later, three other voices joined in.
"We have to go," Lynxheart murmured, "we can't face five cats at once—"
But as they moved to step back, the ground beneath Yarrowflight gave way, sending her careening into the clearing below. Lynxheart froze, pressing herself flat against the ground. When the dust cleared, she could see the dark she-cat looming over Yarrowflight. "Well, well, well," drawled Owlstar, "what do we have here?"
"Looks like your pathetic excuse of a clan only sent one cat," the dark she-cat said, unnaturally white teeth flashing.
Yarrowflight snarled. "At least we're not traitors, " she hissed, struggling, and then hissed as the dark she-cat pressed her paw down on her shoulder, hard. "Should I deal with her, Captain?"
Owlstar nodded. "We don't need anyone coming after us," she said.
The dark she-cat grinned, and opened her mouth, packed with far more teeth than it should be. She's going to bite Yarrowflight's throat, Lynxheart realised, and instantly decided she wouldn't be running back to camp to report to Smoketalon what she had heard—she couldn't let Yarrowflight die.
Mind made up, she launched herself out of her hiding spot, bowling the dark she-cat over. The other hissed, snapping at her throat and clawing at her, but Lynxheart kept her chin tucked and gave as good as she got.
Unfortunately, that was when the other cats in the cavern stepped in; and soon, they had both Lynxheart and Yarrowflight pinned. The dark she-cat's paw was poised over Lynxheart's throat, claws at the ready, and was looking eagerly at Owlstar, clearly only waiting the command to dispose of her.
Owlstar padded over, surveying the scene. "Lynxheart," she said. "Well, I suppose I'm not surprised. I'll make you an offer—join me, and you can live."
Lynxheart let out a wheezing laugh, barely able to breath from the weight of the large she-cat on her. "Why would I?" she sneered.
Owlstar's eyes glinted. "Because," she said, softly, but the sound carried through the cavern, bouncing off the walls and echoing down the tunnels, "the cat holding her paw to your throat is your mother."