Starlingpaw stumbled through the forest, Birchpaw walking slowly by her side, his flanks trembling with every step. Her Clan surrounded her, silent as the morning sun and overflowing with fear and trepidation.

She could barely count how many towering trees she passed in DuskClan territory, the unfamiliar scent pricking at her nose with an unnaturally sharp feeling. The two apprentices had never set foot over the river, and now every cat they knew was there with them.

DuskClan walked on either side of them, showing no fatigue or faltering strength despite their thin and frail underfed bodies. They were entirely silent, and no cat made any sound for tree-lengths.

Eventually, the trunk of a large willow tree came into view, perched on a hill that poked above the thick foliage around it. Its long, clawed branches held bright yellow leaves, a million golden birds perched upon the drooping arms of the willow ready to drift to the forest floor as Leaf-fall turned to Leaf-bare.

Starlingpaw nudged her friend, the first conscious thought she had been able to make in a while, previously consumed with intense worries about her brother. Had Larkpaw been caught by DuskClan as they approached camp and killed? Maybe he had become lost in the woods and would find his way back to DawnClan camp to find it fully empty, or he had hidden just outside the thicket tunnel and managed to hide from DuskClan throughout the entire invasion.

"Hmm?" Birchpaw mumbled, barely awake despite the long trek they had just taken.

"I think we're at DuskClan camp," Starlingpaw whispered, and she seemed to be right. The she-cat that Ashscar had attacked hobbled straight through a gap in the bushes, a gray-silver cat trailing her.

Featherstar murmured something to his deputy and Rippletide yowled out a command she could barely hear through exhaustion. All of DawnClan was reeling from the shock of the attack, and no cat could truly digest what had happened.

DuskClan cats closed in on them from all sides, pressing up against tired queens and warriors with unnecessary roughness. DawnClan was herded through the gap into DuskClan camp, and Starlingpaw's head cleared at the sight.

The great willow tree was the center of camp, its feathery sun-tinged tendrils spiraling down from its widespread branches and creating a shaded clearing at the base of the trunk.

Starlingpaw watched as the camp came alive, cats darting out from the crowd that had entered camp to speak to their Clanmates and curious kits and apprentices poking their heads out of their dens to see what was going on.

As she pressed herself close to Birchpaw, who wrapped his tail around her to offer comfort, Starlingpaw noticed how similar these cats were to her own Clan. Tiny kittens with wide, round eyes sparkling in excitement, apprentices whispering secrets to their friends, and elders grumbling in confusion at the sudden events.

"What do you think will happen to us?" she mewed quietly into Birchpaw's ear, her legs shaking just as much as his.

He didn't respond, only moved closer to her.

She took that to mean he didn't think it would end well.

Starlingpaw noticed other cats around her doing the same, Tawnystripe curling up beside her mate and even Thornflame and Poppyfang sitting close side-by-side. No cat knew what to think, but they already expected the worst.

A thought came to mind, and she turned to look into Birchpaw's eyes. "Are you… feeling okay?"

He glanced back at her with a small shrug. "Well, no, but I don't feel an attack coming on."

She smiled weakly. "Good. Let me know if you do, okay?"

Birchpaw nodded and then signaled with his tail for her to look ahead of her.

Featherstar pushed between a few long claws of willow and disappeared beyond the yellow curtain. Starlingpaw heard a loud yowl, and suddenly the DuskClan cats around her began to push them forward, toward the willow tree. She took a step with uncertainty, confused at what was happening.

As she looked around the camp, it made more sense; nearly every cat crawled out of their dens of bushes and rocks to join their leader beneath the tree. Featherstar had called a Clan meeting. She caught sight of a pale cream she-cat poking her head between two thick clumps of fern, ears pricked, trying to hear what her leader had to say. She smelled strongly of herbs, so Starlingpaw figured she was either the medicine cat or a patient.

Birchpaw got slowly to his paws, moving slowly as if it were a great effort to stand. She turned back just in time to see a DuskClan cat step forward, a cream she-cat with thick fur around her neck, and open her jaws, leaning toward Birchpaw's scruff.

"No!" Starlingpaw hissed, jumping forward. She tried to puff her fur out like longer-haired cats could do with ease, but it did little. Even still, the cream she-cat jolted at her yowl and backed away. "Don't touch him," Starlingpaw ordered again, in case the DuskClan cat didn't understand.

The she-cat nodded and instead stood waiting for Birchpaw to get up, his legs shaking badly. He took a slow step forward like a cat walking in his sleep, and Starlingpaw moved to stand by his side for support, though she was really the last cat who should have offered it.

Starlingpaw let out a sigh of relief and Birchpaw moved again, a sign that he was conscious and not suffering an attack.

"Is something wrong?" she mewed worriedly, licking the side of his face to get his attention.

Birchpaw flattened his ears and ducked his head, still moving as quickly as a snail. "I… I don't know. I feel odd."

She would have offered to take him to Honeypool, but the ginger she-cat was fox-lengths ahead, and even if they weren't in a hostile camp, their medicine cat now had a bad history of failing to treat him. Though Starlingpaw felt a bit guilty holding the incident against Honeypool, she couldn't forget how scared Birchpaw had looked, how still he was as he crouched on the ground, seeing the fox in front of him.

"Come on. We need to catch up with everyone else."

With that, Starlingpaw began walking slowly by her friend's side as he picked his way across the plush, grass-covered ground,the cream cat matching their pace beside them. By the time they reached the willow tree, almost every cat in the two Clans had already gathered, barely fitting underneath the tree's arching arms of yellow leaves.

"DuskClan," Featherstar began, perched on a low-hanging branch, barely visible from the ground below her. Just like the tallest tree, Starlingpaw thought with an uncomfortable twinge. How different were these cats, really?

For one, DuskClan was over twice the size of DawnClan. Starlingpaw could see as many DuskClan warriors as DawnClan cats, and then there were the apprentices and queens. She gulped at the thought of a full-on battle between the clans, ending in widespread death rather than just the capture of her Clan. Even as tired and thin as they were, DuskClan would outnumber DawnClan and overtake them easily.

"We have finally achieved our greatest goal," the grey she-cat meowed, her voice unusually loud for her old age. "The forest, this spot of green between the cliffs and mountains, has finally been united as one under the cover of dusk. We will live happily and freely, with enough prey to sustain us for generations to come."

But what will happen to us? Starlingpaw thought, the fur on the back of her neck beginning to bristle.

Echoing her thoughts, a strong yowl came from the huddle of DawnClan cats. "Then what do you plan to do with us? Slaughter us, kits and all, like the murderers you truly are?"

Every cat beneath the willow tree turned to look at Ashscar as she spoke. The fire burning in her cold green eyes seemed to be the only light in all of DawnClan; every other cat sat small, shrunk with fear, but their deputy stood tall.

Ashscar's tail lashed angrily as she waited for a response from Featherstar.

The grey she-cat shot her a dangerous look and turned to Blizzardstar. "Blizzardstar, your deputy should show some respect for a great leader such as I."

Starlingpaw's heart rose into her throat, and she felt Birchpaw tense beside her as well, his breathing quickening. She worried for a moment that he was falling back to the fox, but his eyes were alert and responsive.

"Featherstar is correct," Blizzardstar meowed, his voice trembling like a kit's. "Ashscar, apologize."

A wave of angry hisses rippled across the DawnClan cats, and Starlingpaw personally let out a cry of rage. Now was not the time for Blizzardstar to be his cowardly self. Was there a scrap of cat within that tom that was redeemable?

Ashscar sat silent until the hisses from DawnClan and the laughs from DuskClan subsided. She opened her mouth slowly and deliberately, not for one moment tearing her eyes away from her leader.

"No."

Starlingpaw cringed, proud of her deputy for standing her ground, but Featherstar's eyes filled with such anger that she was worried the DuskClan leader would kill the she-cat on the spot. To her surprise, the DuskClan cats surrounding Ashscar recoiled, pulling backward in fear.

What had made them so afraid of her?

Though Featherstar's fur bristled angrily for a moment, she was absolutely in no shape to fight Ashscar, as fearsome of a warrior as she was, so the old she-cat looked away and continued to speak. "DawnClan will find that we have chosen their future for them, and they will no longer have to quarrel with other cats such as ourselves."

Starlingpaw scoffed at the vague answer. What did it even mean?

"Does she mean because we'll all be dead, or…" Birchpaw muttered from beside her. She might have laughed, but the thought brought a chill through her pelt and deep into her bones. (Not that she hadn't considered the possibility already.)

"I hope not."

Featherstar began to organize DuskClan hunting patrols, and in the meantime, Starlingpaw got to her paws with Birchpaw and searched through the crowd for a specific cat.

She found her way easily, and Tawnystripe mewed a quiet greeting from beside Mosspetal, her eyes tired and sad. Two kits sat quietly at their paws, curled up into tufts of curled and tortoiseshell fur.

"Hey," Starlingpaw meowed, sitting beside her friend, careful not to brush up against any of the open scratches on her ginger pelt. "Has Honeypool treated you yet?"

"No, she's been busy," Tawnystripe hissed with a surprising amount of disdain. Starlingpaw understood a moment later as she caught sight of the medicine cat again speaking with the ginger DuskClan tom.

Starlingpaw had half a mind to run over and grab Honeypool from her important gossip with an enemy cat, but she wasn't sure how much good it would do. Instead, she offered to help clean Tawnystripe's wounds, and the she-cat gladly accepted.

Happy to have a task to occupy her, Starlingpaw licked gently at one of the scratches stretching along Tawnystripe's side, an oozing gash of blood that was just beginning to clot. It was a while before she was done, and her mouth tasted of the sharp tang of blood. She flinched at the taste as she sat back down beside Birchpaw, brushing up against his side to find comfort.

Starlingpaw was thrown back into her vision, her claws piercing Blizzardstar's throat and causing large beads of blood to bubble up from beneath her paws, his last sounds of breathy screeches, unable to breathe. She shivered, the sight unusually clear to her. It was surprising that the vision had just returned after so many days of it lying dormant under the surface of her mind- was this what it was like for Birchpaw? Though surely his attacks were more painful and unpleasant than just an uncomfortable memory.

"Are you okay?" Birchpaw murmured, sensing her tensed muscles.

She nodded, not wanting to burden him with her troubles. Putting stress on Birchpaw was like pushing him a step closer to an attack, and that was really the last thing she wanted to do.

Suddenly, Starlingpaw remembered something. She leaned in closer to Tawnystripe and began to tell her. "Don't you have-"

She was cut off as Featherstar let out a sharp yowl, and Starlingpaw noticed that a large number of DuskClan cats had left the willow, just enough remaining to outnumber the DawnClan warriors.

"Now begins the future of the forest," the elderly leader announced. "DuskClan, take them away. I will remain here to await word from StarClan."

As a ring of well-muscled warriors closed in on the DawnClan cats, Starlingpaw laughed at the thought of Featherstar communing with her ancestors. The attack and capture of an entire Clan went against the code in so many ways that she truly doubted StarClan would approve of their actions and choose to speak with Featherstar.

DuskClan pushed every cat to their feet, and Starlingpaw wondered briefly why StarClan had spoken to her, exactly. She was only an apprentice, and a rather bad one, at that. Perhaps they took pity on her, but she wasn't entirely sure if that was a thing StarClan did.

"Come on," she mewed to Birchpaw, nudging him with her shoulder. Luckily, this time he could move, though still slowly, as if he were drifting off to sleep.

The DuskClan warriors led them past the willow tree where Featherstar waited on her perch, her nose tilted up to the early morning sky. The cats pushed through a large clump of ferns, their fronds gaining a tinge of orange at the edges, into the deep forest beyond camp.

Fallen leaves lay at the base of the trees, their trunks rising so high into the sky that Starlingpaw could barely see the tops of them. Leafy plants blanketed the forest floor, cushioning and quieting her pawsteps like moss. It was comforting to be back underneath a canopy like there was in DawnClan camp, but every plant, every tree, every tail-length of ground smelled strange and unfamiliar. It made sense; it was DuskClan territory, but even still, it unsettled her.

The trees soon began to thin out and a cold breeze clawed through the cats' fur, chilling their bodies and hearts. Starlingpaw had to squint her eyes against the bite of the wind, though Birchpaw, having thicker fur than Starlingpaw's flat and shiny coat, offered a touch of warmth against the cold.

Soon enough there was little to no foliage around, only the hard earth, and Starlingpaw glanced behind her at the forest with longing, wishing once more for the cover of the trees that she had grown up in. Here the ground was almost slippery, and she nearly tripped and fell many times; in the forest, there was undergrowth to hook her claws on, but now her kit-gait truly showed.

The group of cats came to a stop at a drop-off, the ground sloping down at a sharp and dangerous angle. She couldn't see what was beyond it, but her Clanmates at the front of the crowd seemed to inhale sharply at the sight of whatever it was.

One of the DuskClan warriors, a black she-cat, smiled widely, sending an unsettling shiver down Starlingpaw's spine. "Welcome to your new home."

The sable she-cat picked her way through her Clan with Birchpaw beside her, moving slowly and passing many of her relatives and former denmates.

As she caught sight of the land beyond the drop-off, she understood the cats' horrified reactions immediately.

Below her was a barren wasteland, the only plants tufts of brown grass and sharp-leaved foliage littered sparsely throughout the clearing. Dead monsters sat between them, their insides torn out and thrown beside them like shining pieces of fresh-kill. Their pelts were dappled with reddish-brown, and they were piled on top of each other like pebbles.

Starlingpaw had never seen a monster before. Some cats reported glimpses of them beyond the Twoleg nests at the edge of DawnClan territory, and kits were always warned to stay away from the hulking beasts for the fear that they would crush them. Now more of them than any cat had ever seen lay dead before her, defeated some even more terrifying creature.

The grass grew inside the monsters as if they weren't even there, reaching through the holes in their corpses to see the sun. Nothing moved other than the wind. Starlingpaw couldn't scent a hint of prey anywhere around her.

How would they survive here?