Diamondpaw once again felt the familiar warmth of DuskClan territory, her feet cushioned by trampled undergrowth and her skies broken by the canopy in the same way it always had been. In a way, DawnClan's forest was just the same as her own, but it didn't feel like that to her. They were two separate worlds, two different, living, breathing creatures. One of them was alien to her.

It was comforting to be in her home again, but she sensed that something was different. What was a territory if there was no longer anyone to oppose it? It was just a forest now. No need for Clans, no rivalry, no conflict, no shared bonds or experiences.

The she-cat walked beside her sister, her mouth stuffed with prey, when she suddenly realized something.

"I leff a peiff of pwey!" she meowed, her voice muffled as it tried to travel around the fresh-kill between her fangs.

Stormpaw stopped walking and placed down her quarry to respond. "You what?"

Diamondpaw mimicked her sister and spat a feather out of her mouth. "I left a piece of prey behind!"

"Back in DawnClan territory?"

"Yeah, I must have accidentally left it buried," Diamondpaw worried with a nervous glance over her shoulder. "I should go get it."

Stormpaw sighed and nudged her sister with her nose. "Okay, just hurry back. I'm starving, but we have to get this to camp before we can eat."

Diamondpaw nodded briefly and pivoted, then took off at a sprint through the woods, passing familiar maple trees. Her paws flew over piles of fallen leaves, kicking some of them up as she passed, her back legs tearing up the undergrowth with claws she didn't realize were unsheathed.

She reached the river quickly and paused to take a few deep breaths, her chest heaving with the effort of running. Though Diamondpaw was exhausted, it felt good to sprint- to place all of her energy in her legs and paws for once instead of dedicating so much of it to her mind. She felt clear and free for a moment longer before she heard a loud cry.

It was the cry of a kitten, and a heartbeat later it was joined by an older cat's yowl. Confused, she set off walking down the river, trying to place the sound, but she couldn't see any cats near her.

Suddenly she saw a familiar flash of fur- it was the cream color she had spied earlier, when she was chasing what she thought had been her sister, but turned out to be a lost kittypet or even a loner. Now the cream cat burst out of the river, paws flailing, their teeth embedded in the scruff of a tiny gray kitten, which was shaking with fear.

Diamondpaw leaped forward and the kitten squealed once again; she realized now that not only was it making the noise she had heard a few moments ago, but it had been the source of the first sound that she had first assumed was Stormpaw.

"Put the kit down!" she hissed at the cream cat, who she scented as a tom as she approached with her back arched.

He tried to reply, but his mouth was full of wet fur.

Come on, come on, she told herself. If there was ever a time to be angry, Diamondpaw, it would be now! Why can't you freak out and attack this kit-napper instead of just standing there like an idiot?!

But no matter how hard she tried, Diamondpaw couldn't find it within herself to be furious with this cat. He looked just as helpless as the kitten in his jaws, fighting against the strong current to make it to shore.

Though her first thought had been that the cream tom was stealing the kitten, she realized now that it wasn't the case. He reached her side of the riverbank and she watched, full of curiosity, as the tom began to lick the kitten's fur dry. The grey-furred kit mewed in opposition and tried to wriggle away from him, but he pinned the she-kit down with a paw until her fur was mostly dry.

Diamondpaw had sat silent the entire time, and the cream tom now looked up into her eyes, a deep fear hiding within them.

"Who are you?" she asked. Perhaps this tom was the kit's father, though he looked far too young for it, besides the fact that the two cats looked nothing alike. He had short, flat, cream fur that was tipped with sable, and the kitten had a thick, curled grey pelt that was marked with faint tabby stripes. It seemed impossible to her that they could be related. "Are you… this kit's father?"

The tom laughed, and the kitten flattened her ears angrily. Diamondpaw heard the kit growl softly. Mystery-tom smiled in a way that made Diamondpaw pity him deeply. "I wish."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer, only stared at his paws. Something in his face was profoundly sad, and she felt a sudden urge to comfort him, but she didn't quite know what for.

She remembered then that he was trespassing. "What are you doing here?" Diamondpaw sniffed the air, trying to catch his scent, but all she could taste was river water, and under that… something confusingly familiar.

The tom flattened his ears, wrapping his tail around the kit. "I can't trust you."

"You don't know that."

"I can't trust DuskClan, and you're one of them," he specified.

"How do you know about the Clans?" Diamondpaw asked, surprised.

The tom chuckled. "So you really can't tell where I'm from? That's surprising."

She shook her head in confusion. What was he trying to insinuate?

"It's probably better if it stays that way," he murmured, partly to himself.

Diamondpaw remembered once again that the tom was trespassing on DuskClan's territory and tried again to assert herself. "W-well, you'll have to explain yourself! This is my territory, and you're wrongfully on it!" she tried her hardest to be intimidating, but the tom didn't seem to be affected by it.

"I really shouldn't," he meowed simply. "Look, I'd like it if you could just forget any of this happened. Besides, you can't lecture me about trespassing; you were just hunting in DawnClan territory!"

Diamondpaw was hit with another wave of confusion. "So you know about the Clans, but you don't know that DawnClan's been captured?"

His ears twitched, and Diamondpaw noticed that his pupils had thinned into slits. "No, I knew that. I just… wasn't sure about the specifics."

"I'll ask again," Diamondpaw growled unconvincingly. She really wasn't sure why intimidation was so hard for her; she was a rather formidable fighter when she wanted to be. Apparently, trying to present that power verbally was difficult. "Who are you? And this time, give me a real answer."

The kit at his paws mewed something unintelligible, and the cream tom ducked down and whispered something into its ear, which seemed to calm it down. He then glanced up at Diamondpaw with a concerned expression. "Okay, maybe you're not all that much of a threat," Diamondpaw started to retaliate by unsheathing her claws and flattening her ears, so he corrected himself. "I mean, I don't think you'll tell anyone else about me. You seem... trustworthy. I don't know."

She began to say something in opposition before realizing that he was probably right. Diamondpaw had very few close friends other than her sister, really just Blossompaw and her mother. But both of them were older than her, so they didn't connect quite as well. Diamondpaw figured that if she only had one true friend to tell secrets to, that made her pretty easy to share with. "I guess?" she finally said. He seemed to pose his words as a question, even though it made little sense.

He stood up and walked a pace closer to her, his tail dragging along the ground. "I need you to make a promise to me first."

The fur on the back of Diamondpaw's neck stood on end. "How can I promise you anything if I don't even know who you are?"

He shrugged, and she waited a while for him to elaborate, but it seemed like he wasn't going to speak any more.

"Aren't you even going to tell me what the promise is?"

"Oh, sure," he meowed, a little flustered. "I need you to promise to help me and this kit," the tom explained with a gesture to the grey kit. "Please. Promise me that despite who I am and where I'm from, you'll help me."

Diamondpaw heard the logical part of her screaming No, again and again, but somehow it didn't feel like the right answer. As she studied his face, filled with weariness and what she could only guess was sorrow, Diamondpaw couldn't find it within herself to turn him away. All he was asking for was assistance; and this kit, whoever she belonged to, needed help as well. Could she call herself a true Clan cat if she left a poor kit to its fate, whatever it may be? Protecting kittens and weak cats was an important pillar of the warrior code, and of empathy itself. Diamondpaw had learned to be caring over all else, and while that was usually directed at her own Clanmates, she didn't see why that shouldn't change.

"Okay," she breathed, so stuck in her own thoughts that she barely remembered to speak.

The cream tom's ears pricked and he sat straight upright. "Did- did you say-"

"I said okay," Diamondpaw meowed again, this time more audibly, after clearing her throat. "I'll help you and the kitten."

He smiled, and it seemed like he hadn't done so in a long time. "Thank you , um…"

She realized after a brief pause that he was asking for her name. "Oh, I'm Diamondpaw."

The tom nodded. "Diamondpaw." The kit at his paws mewed something that sounded vaguely like her name as well, and she laughed softly.

Then the realism of the situation hit her. Her sister was still waiting in DuskClan territory for her to return with the piece of prey she had forgotten. What would Stormpaw do when she came back with two unfamiliar cats instead. DuskClan wasn't entirely known for their hospitality. Diamondpaw decided in a split second that she would have to hide him from her sister.

She explained this to him in a whirl of confused words, and though he didn't entirely seem to understand, Diamondpaw gestured with his tail that he move to a thick patch of brush further away from the river.

As Diamondpaw checked that his light colored fur was hidden from plain sight and his scent was masked by the smell of mud of plants, she leaned down to say something.

"I'll come back tonight," Diamondpaw promised him. "Then I can help you."

She was vaguely able to make out the shape of his body as he crouched in the bushes. Diamondpaw thought she saw him nod.

She turned to leave, but then remembered something. The white she-cat walked backwards to where he hid and tilted her head to one side. "I don't think I got your name."

From within the leaves, their edges tinged with orange and brown, she heard a voice respond, "It's unimportant."

/

Starlingpaw skidded down the steep slope, trying in vain to slow her descent with her claws. She had been nudged forward by the crowd of DuskClan cats behind her, none of them aware of her kit-gait and her struggles with balance. She tried to turn herself around so that her back legs were aimed forward rather than her front paws, but instead she ended up sliding down the drop-off on her back, quickly tumbling forward and rolling like a moss ball.

She landed ungracefully on the ground in a heap of sleek black fur, all her limbs aching from the failed effort of climbing down like a normal cat would have. Birchpaw reached the ground just after her, his pelt streaked with mud but uninjured. He had probably been able to make the climb without any issues; she realized with embarrassment as she looked at the slope behind her that it wasn't even that far of a fall, just a very sheer one.

"Are you all right?" Birchpaw worried, nudging her pelt with his nose.

Starlingpaw got to her paws and shook herself. "Surprisingly, no."

Instead of laughing, the black-and-white tom shot an angry glance at the DuskClan cats still standing at the top of the drop-off. A few of them were snickering, and she realized with a burning rush of humiliation that the cats were laughing at her.

"Have fun with the crowfood, DawnClan!" one of the DuskClan cats yowled, the black she-cat that had spoken just before DuskClan shoved their prisoners over the drop-off.

"You're the ones eating crowfood, you mangy little gnats!" came a hiss from the bedraggled group of DawnClan cats. Starlingpaw turned to see Thornflame at the base of the slope, clawing at the walls of the valley they were now trapped in. He looked angrier than Starlingpaw had ever seen him, which meant he was nearly bursting into flame with rage. Thornflame continued to growl insults at DuskClan, but they largely ignored him.

"Come on," Birchpaw muttered, wrapping his tail around her. "Let's get away from those fox-hearts."

Starlingpaw walked side-by-side with him, limping slightly from her awkward fall mixed with her disability. As they stumbled around the clearing, she looked at her surroundings, trying to figure out where exactly they were.

DawnClan had been thrown into a glen, both sides of it steep and sheer. It was about a tree-length or two wide. She figured that the glen had been home to some sort of river at one point, but now it was empty, and the walls and floor of the clearing were only mud. The ground was littered, covered, even, with the bodies of monsters, some of their round paws turned up to the sky as they lay on their backs. There was barely room to move without bumping into a dead monster, their silvery pelts covered with a dark brown color that grew like lichen across them.

The whole glen smelled of death, but there was a thick odor that hung over all of the monsters that struck fear deep into Starlingpaw's heart. As she passed the face of one of the monsters, its round clear eyes empty of all light or emotion, Starlingpaw noticed a tuft of fur on the side of the monster's body. It was bright white, and she sniffed it curiously, but the scent was unfamiliar to her. Perhaps DuskClan had come to investigate the graveyard earlier and one of their cats had lost a bit of their pelt. She made a mental note to avoid the sharp edges of the rotting beasts.

"What is that smell?" Birchpaw wondered aloud, his nose scrunched up and his ears flattened against his head. Starlingpaw again felt a touch of relief that he wasn't suffering from any anxiety despite the stressful situation. His attacks mostly seemed to happen when he was in or around battle.

Starlingpaw shrugged, unsure of the answer, but she soon found the solution. As she peeked underneath the belly of a dead monster, its fur fully devoured by the red-brown lichen, she caught a whiff of a horrible scent. Retching, she reeled backward and tried to calm her stomach, not wanting to throw up.

"What's wrong?" Birchpaw meowed, running up to her side from where he was inspecting a monster a fox-length away from her. All Starlingpaw could manage to do was point to the monster with her tail; Birchpaw looked underneath it just as she had and pulled his head backward with a hiss.

A dead rabbit lie underneath the monster, its lean brown form covered with a writhing blanket of maggots. It made her stomach turn just to think about it, so she tried to push it out of her mind.

"Oh, by StarClan," Birchpaw rasped, his chest heaving. "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen."

"Or smelled," Starlingpaw added, then quickly regretted it. The thought of the rabbit's stench- thick and pungent, almost sickly sweet- made bile rise in her throat, which reminded her that she hadn't eaten yet. Starlingpaw doubted that her Clan would find anything edible in the glen that wasn't covered with grubs.

"What do we do?" she mewed weakly. "Where are we going to find fresh-kill?"

Birchpaw walked up to her and brushed his pelt against hers. She felt his lethargy in his slow, sluggish movements, and knew they would have to rest soon. But how could she sleep without food? Starlingpaw hadn't gone hungry a day in her life, and now she regretted it deeply. Hunger was so new to her that she had no idea how to cope with it.

"I don't know," he responded simply. "But I'm sure we'll find some way out of this. Anything's possible."

Starlingpaw knew he was referring to the night, what seemed like seasons ago now, when he had opened up to her for the first time. Starlingpaw had reassured Birchpaw that they would work through whatever happened together, and that they could accomplish anything, even the impossible. Somehow her words seemed false now, and she found little comfort in them. How could they ever survive in a barren little valley full of corpses and crowfood?

"Okay," she said simply, not wanting to share her doubts. It was probably better if Birchpaw stayed optimistic, though a voice inside her told her that he didn't believe it either, that he was putting on the act of hope to comfort her.

They stood side-by-side, crouching low to the ground, wrapping their tails around each other as best they could. The sun was at its highest point, but to DawnClan, it already felt like sunset. Every cat was exhausted from the battle and the trek from their territory and no one had the energy to do anything but find a spot to collapse and rest. Despite this, Blizzardstar called a clan meeting from the top of a rotting monster, his fur stark white against the red-brown dull metal.

Starlingpaw and Birchpaw slowly padded their way over to their leader, exasperated. What was Blizzardstar going to announce this time?

They sat beside Tawnystripe, Mosspetal, and their kits. The she-cats and she-kits all huddled close together, in search of warmth and comfort. Starlingpaw flicked her ginger friend with her tail as she took a seat, and Tawnystripe glanced at her briefly before turning back to see what Blizzardstar was going to say.

"DawnClan," their leader called out, his long fur flat and dull in the shadows of the glen. "We are in troubling times."

Starlingpaw heard a few angry grumbles from the crowd. Of course they were in troubling times! The Clan had been captured and forced into submission by their rivals, and now they were trapped in a valley full of dead monsters and crowfood.

"But worry not," he continued, pacing on top of the monster as he spoke. Ashscar sat below him on the monster's snout. "StarClan teaches us that when we face adversity, we grow stronger because of it. That is what we must do."

Her ears perked up. Was Blizzardstar finally making sense for once?

"Soon we will set off on a great journey. On the other side of the glen, a new home awaits us."

No, of course he would ruin it, Starlingpaw thought, rolling her eyes.

"Leave?" A cat called out from the crowd; Starlingpaw recognized her as Darkfeather. "We can't just abandon our homes!"

"You expect me to bow at the feet of DuskClan and give in to them?" Thornflame hissed. Starlingpaw agreed with a loud yowl, and more cries erupted from the upset DawnClan cats.

"The Clan has a point, Blizzardstar," Ashscar meowed dangerously, her voice silencing nearly every noise in the entire glen. Not even a bird call rang out through the air; only the she-cat's voice. "To leave is to admit defeat. Do we want to show DuskClan that we give up at the first sight of trouble? Make them think we are weak?" At this point, Ashscar had hopped up next to Blizzardstar, and now her face was a mouse-length away from his. The tom shrank under her gaze. "I don't know about you, Blizzardstar, but that seems like a bad idea to me."

He finally began to speak, his voice cracking into a high, squeaky tone. "Y-you might be right, Ashscar, but-"

"But what? You wish to make DuskClan think we are rats that scurry away from the light like cowards?"

"You will obey me!" Blizzardstar snapped, rearing his head and baring his teeth. "I am your leader and my word is law! You can come with me or die with these monsters' corpses by your side!"

Ashscar stood silent, her eyes filled with rage stronger than a forest fire. Before she could say anything, Starlingpaw spoke up, using an amount of courage she didn't know she even had. "I agree with Ashscar," she meowed, her voice smaller than she would have liked. She straightened herself before speaking again. "If we leave now, then DuskClan will take the territory we've lived in all of our lives. Besides, like she said, we'd be giving up. We at least have to give DuskClan a fight to remember after all they've done to us."

Despite her nerves, Starlingpaw felt oddly calm as she spoke, and it was the right thing to say as well. Soon enough a few cats began to nod in agreement, and then another voice spoke up.

"I think so too. I've only been here a short while, but I don't see why we should give these cats what they want so easily," Mint meowed from where he sat at the back of the crowd. Starlingpaw and Birchpaw both turned to face him with a smile, which the gib returned happily. "I'm not much of a fighter yet, but I'd battle to the last hair on my pelt to protect this Clan," the silver cat promised, wrapping his tail around Fishkit, who lay between his paws, fast asleep. "This is the closest thing to family I've ever had. I don't want it to be ruined."

Starlingpaw felt a warm glow of pride as other cats joined in, yowling their agreement, and Blizzardstar stood baffled on the head of the monster.

At last, they fell silent, and every cat in the Clan waited, the world eerily still, waiting for their leader to respond.

"Fine," Blizzardstar relented.

Starlingpaw felt the overwhelming urge to cheer, but instead she nudged Birchpaw with her shoulder and purred. She worried that celebrating her small victory would make Blizzardstar go back on his decision.

"Ashscar, organize a party of cats to find the safest spots to sleep. And try to find some prey if you can manage it," Blizzardstar ordered to his deputy as the Clan began to dissipate.

"Yes," Ashscar responded, her mind still consumed by fire. Some day he would pay for what he had done.