1The monster roared over the two cats' den the next morning at sunrise. Riversong and Sunpaw bolted from their cave out into the warm, misty newleaf dawn. They watched the monster pass. It was the same one from the previous day. Sunpaw no longer seemed afraid of it; he watched the monster go by with a bored expression.

"Well, grab whatever breakfast you want," Riversong meowed once it was gone, "We're heading out today."

Sunpaw groaned. "But it's so nice here!" he complained, "It's about the monster, isn't it, Riversong? Look, I can get used to it, just like I got used to Quartzpaw's snoring!"

"It's not about the monster, it's about Wingfoot."

Sunpaw remembered the night before, when Riversong had told him all about how she had seen Wingfoot cause Foxpelt's death. He shivered at the memory. He had always known Wingfoot was a bit harsh, but...a murderer? It wouldn't have been believable from any cat but Riversong. Sunpaw trusted his mentor's every word, even if they made no sense when she first said them. He sighed. The young tom picked a mouse from the small heap of fresh-kill he and Riversong had gathered.

Riversong, meanwhile, was thinking about what Sunpaw has murmured in his dreams the night before. 'Watch for the wise tree. He knows which way to go' Sunpaw had said. Riversong had no idea what a wise tree looked like, or even how she would ask it the way to go. She shrugged. A wise tree. Wise tree. What do I think of when I hear the word 'wise'? Foxpelt, of course. Maybe there was a tree that had a knothole that looked like his face. Or a tree that had his claw-marks or his scent. The only problem was that trees that would fit a majority of those criteria were back in DuskClan territory. Riversong knew they were by Old Thunderpath, which was in MeadowClan territory. She had heard it described by Windclaw, a MeadowClan warrior, at one of the Gatherings. Great. MeadowClan hates DuskClan! Why couldn't we have wandered into LakeClan territory for StarClan's sake!

"We should get a move on," Riversong told her apprentice, who was burying his prey-bones, "I'm sure MeadowClan never patrols this far into their territory, but still, you never know."

Sunpaw nodded. He knew a few MeadowClan apprentices: Flintpaw, Lightningpaw, and Raccoonpaw. Flintpaw was a black tom that reminded Sunpaw strongly of Nightwalker both in looks and attitude. Lightningpaw was a heavyset she-cat with yellow eyes and whitish-blue fur that looked like a streak of lightning. Raccoonpaw was another she-apprentice. She was almost exactly like a raccoon in her looks: gray fur, a black-ringed tail, and a black mask across her brown eyes. Sunpaw thought she was very attractive, but the warrior code said apprentices were not allowed to have kits, especially not with cats from other Clans. Besides, Raccoonpaw thought he was stupid because he hadn't been able to say a single coherent sentence in her presence.

Riversong stood up resolutely. She strode into the ferns. Sunpaw jumped up and padded after her. The two walked side by side through the silent forests, trying not to be spotted by a MeadowClan patrol. Sunpaw was ready to explode with questions about MeadowClan and their warriors, but he felt the need for quiet. He asked them to himself. It wasn't satisfying, but at least it kept him silent.

Riversong was paying more attention to trees than she ever had before. The gray she-cat's blue eyes scarred each trunk carefully, checking for knotholes shaped like warrior faces or branch patterns that made pointing arrows. Nothing. She was beginning to get discouraged until suddenly–Wham!–Riversong walked head-on into the trunk of a large, ancient oak. She sat down hard, shaking her head dazedly. Sunpaw gave a soft mew of concern, which was almost drowned out by something falling from the tree with a whooshing and a rattling noise.

It was the pelt of a fox, pierced by an arrow.

Riversong helped pull Sunpaw free of the skeleton that had fallen onto his back. The fox's bony rib cage had trapped him where he stood. The two cats stared at the old pelt. The arrow had punctured it in such a way that it lay flat. Riversong noticed that it was pointing distinctly eastward. She tried turning the hide so that the arrow faced a new way. The contraption made of wood and flint was deep inside the pelt and wouldn't change the direction it pointed in. She gasped. "The wise tree," Riversong whispered, "The wise tree that knows the way to go..."

"I know what this is!" Sunpaw mewed, "It's one of those things the Twolegs of Long Ago used to hunt their prey. Young-at-Heart told me about them."

"The Twolegs of Long Ago?" Riversong asked.

"Yeah. Young-at-Heart said they all had brown pelts back then, not any of the weird-colored ones you see today. He said they were gentle Twolegs, who thanked their prey for dying for them like we do. He said they would make these things and shoot them at big animals. The fox must have been shot, crawled up this tree, then died while he was in it."

Riversong was amazed, not only at the description Sunpaw was able to give her of the Twolegs of Long Ago, but also of how similar they were to cats. Thanking their prey for giving up its life? That's what StarClan says to do for our prey. She shook herself. Now she understood. This was the wise tree. Thearrow was telling them the way to go. "Sunpaw. We're going east," she declared.

"East?" Sunpaw mewed, "But...that's the way the Border is! Can we stop and see Dustin and Martin? Ooh, can we, Riversong? Please? Please?" He began bouncing up and down.

"All right, all right." Riversong placed her paw on the young he-cat's back to keep him still. She knew he wanted to see Martin and play with him again. "If we can make it out of here in one piece, we can see them."

"Should we take the pelt with us, Riversong?" Sunpaw asked, pointing to the old fox skin. Riversong nodded.

"We might need it somewhere along the way," she meowed, "I'll carry it." With that, she draped the hide over her back. Sunpaw purred.

"You look like a fox!"

"Really? Because you know...I kind of feel like a fox. Know what I mean?" Riversong crouched down and pretended to lunge at Sunpaw. The red apprentice squeaked and ducked away. Riversong chased him. The arrow, which had gone clear through the pelt and come out a little further across its surface, held the hide on her back as she ran. It was running across her lower belly. Finally, she skidded to a halt. Sunpaw slowed down as well. Riversong checked their direction. They were heading due east. "Okay," she panted, "Let's keep going, Sunpaw."

They skimmed DuskClan territory, pausing by the Messagetree. Riversong sniffed its massive roots. She caught traces of Wingfoot, Snakepelt, Heavenpaw, and Trueheart. They were fairly fresh. "Dawn patrol," she murmured, half to herself, half to Sunpaw.

"Let's move, Riversong," Sunpaw meowed, "You really do look like a fox with that old pelt on. I don't want you mistaken for one."

"Good point." Riversong stopped herself from leaving her own marker on the rough bark. That was something only DuskClan did, and technically, she wasn't part of DuskClan anymore.

The two continued along their way, pointing out familiar landmarks as they went. Sunpaw gazed sadly down at the small canyon that held so many memories for him. One night, he, Radiantpaw, Snakepaw, Heavenpaw, and Creekpaw all went down to hide in that canyon on the night of a Gathering. They all had one thing in common: the five of them had not been chosen to go to the Gathering. They had camped out there until midnight when the party of warriors, elders, and apprentices came back, led by Brightstar. No cat had suspected a thing, but Sunpaw had later confessed the whole affair to Riversong. His mentor, having done something quite similar when she was an apprentice, vowed his secret was safe with her.

Riversong paused to drink by a small creek. The fox pelt was making her hot. She sat down and squired out of its oppressive grasp, panting. Sunpaw looked worried. She purred to assure him everything was okay. "Want me to carry it for a while?" Sunpaw asked.

"If you want..." Riversong mewed. She helped Sunpaw settle it comfortably onto his small body. His fur was darker than the old pelt was. My pelt isn't as darkly-colored as his. Perhaps he's used to how the sun shines on dark-colored fur.

Mentor and apprentice continued their trek through familiar territory until they reached the Border. Riversong lowered her ears. They were almost out of Clan territory. Sunpaw pressed close to her. They crept silently, not wanting to be noticed at all. Riversong scented the ground hopefully, trying to find any traces at all of Blacktip's scent. Blacktip had said he visited the two brothers every other day, so he should have come either today or yesterday. Sunpaw also pressed his nose to the ground. He wanted to help Riversong. The gray queen nodded. Sunpaw was a great tracker. He had tracked her up to her little hill on his own.

The eerie silence was shattered by a great yowling noise. Riversong looked up fearfully into the eyes of a huge, black tomcat. Sunpaw shrieked as a yellow queen tried to sink her fangs into his neck. Riversong gasped and threw herself at his attacker. The yellow she-cat hissed and dug her claw-grip in harder. "Make one more move and he's a goner!" she spat.

Riversong dropped to the ground. The big tom placed a bright orange paw on her neck. His paws were the same color as Sunpaw's fur. He growled in her ear, "Why don't you make things easier and come with us? If we have to kill you, I swear it'll be quick and easy. If you want to try fighting..." He unsheathed his claws. Riversong shuddered. "Be my guest."

Riversong carefully shook her head. The black tom looked over to the yellow queen. "Spark," he meowed, "Bring the fox and come with me."

Spark, the yellow cat, nodded. "I obey, Pyre," she mewed, looking down at Sunpaw with an evil glint in her golden eyes, "I obey."

Pyre lifted Riversong in one easy motion and dropped her on her paws. "Walk," he commanded, "I don't know what mouse-brained cat travels with a fox kit, but I'm going to find out."

For fear of Spark causing Sunpaw any physical harm, Riversong obeyed. Spark carried Sunpaw in her teeth like she would a mouse: careful to a certain extent, but loosely, because he was already dead.