The quarter moon Trail was stuck in the hollow beneath the tree, being treated by Pinestripe, was miserable. He had to choke down disgusting unfamiliar herbs twice a day, and he hated how she hunted for him. As well, his paws were itching from lying around for so long. He wasn't used to not moving every day. The medicine cat wouldn't let him walk out of sight of the tree hollow.

On what she promised was the last day before he'd be allowed to leave, Trail began to think. Judging from the information he'd gotten from the cats at the Twolegplace, Scythe was alive, and able to walk. He'd be after Trail now. It was surprising the assassin hadn't found him already. Trail would have to resume his random walking to keep the rogue off.

But could he really keep walking forever? If Scythe never gave up, what would Trail do? He was no match for the white cat in a fight; he couldn't beat him or scare him away.

No, all he could do was run… for as long as it took.

"Here you go." Pinestripe dropped a wad of herbs at Trail's paws. Reluctantly, he swallowed them.

"And that's that," said the she-cat. "You're treated; you can go now. You're welcome."

Trail rose to his paws, stretched, and walked off. Finally.

Then he heard steps crunching in the snow behind him. Pinestripe was following him.

"What do you want?" the loner groaned.

"To come with you," answered the black-and-white cat. "I don't have anything better to do, since I've left my Clan. Anyways, I want to watch you for a few more days, make sure you don't have any more symptoms."

"I don't. My greencough is cured." Trail had an idea. "Besides, you could get attacked… or even killed. I have an assassin cat after me. A scary white rogue. His name's Scythe."

Pinestripe's ears immediately flattened and she dropped closer to the ground. Was that every cat's reaction upon hearing the name?

"Scythe?" she hissed. "I know him. He's killed too many Clan cats to count."

"Then you'll know how-"

"How much I need to come with you," she finished. "I may have very little fighting skills, but I can still help guard and heal you. I'd hate to think of another cat murdered by that piece of fox dung."

Trail sighed, but the determination in the Clan cat's eyes clearly stated she wasn't going anywhere. As well, it could be helpful to have another cat to guard him against Scythe.

"Fine!" the brown tom decided. "You can come."

They walked for a few days, and for the most part, Pinestripe was alright. She mostly kept her distance, and didn't make him talk too much. Occasionally, though, the older cat would chide him and try to show him ways to do things he knew already, which raised the hairs on his pelt.

One day, they were walking through a forest at dark when Trail smelled two different fox scents. He glanced around warily.

"There must be foxes here," Pinestripe confirmed.

Walking a little quieter, they hurried through the snowy forest when they emerged into a clearing. In the clearing was a wall of the shiny Twoleg mesh they used to close areas off. The one in front of him wasn't tall, though. Trail could easily jump it.

He wasn't going to, wanting to steer clear of anything Twoleg, but then he noticed an opening in the shiny mesh. What was inside fascinated him. He stepped into it warily, and Pinestripe followed, intrigued as well.

Inside the walls of the shiny mesh was a jungle of sorts, filled with all things Twoleg. Everything was made of the shiny, hard stuff. In the darkness, it was difficult to decipher what everything was. But most of it seemed to be random scraps, like the Twolegs had discarded them there. The shiny things were piled up and stacked and thrown around haphazardly. Trail tried to avoid touching any of it, knowing it could cut him.

"Look at this!" Pinestripe called him over. Trail headed over to find a monster, sitting in the center of the Twoleg jungle. He had a moment of panic before realizing it was asleep. No, not asleep… it looked dead.

It was missing the circular black paws all monsters had. Its beaming yellow eyes were dim, and it only had one. Its flanks were missing, and Trail saw he could crawl right through the monster if he wanted, which made him shudder. As well, it had great gashes and missing pieces from its pelt.

"I didn't know monsters could die," noted Pinestripe. "It looks like it was killed, it's so torn apart."

"I hope whatever killed it isn't around," Trail said nervously. Whatever could massacre a monster that way, he hoped he never met.

His ears picked up the sound of clattering Twoleg objects nearby. Then another.

"Could a fox have come in here?" Pinestripe whispered.

Just then, a shape appeared on the top of the monster's carcass. A scraggly, bony cat with white fur and glowing yellow eyes.

"Hello, Trail," greeted Scythe calmly. "I've missed you these last few moons."

As the assassin leapt off the monster, Trail backed away. He noticed the rogue's limp was more pronounced.

"It took me forever to heal this leg," Scythe complained. "You'll pay for that."

Pinestripe moved to stand beside the loner. The assassin turned towards her.

"This is a new cat," he pronounced. "Do I know you?"

The hair on the medicine cat's back was raised. Trail could see she was trembling with fear.

"You've killed too many Clan cats to count!" she snarled.

"Oh, those Clan cats!" Scythe exclaimed. "I haven't visited the lake in a while. I should stop by sometime."

With a yowl of rage, Pinestripe pounced on the rogue. Scythe leaped out of the way with graceful ease, landing on a tall pile of shiny Twoleg scrap. Trail ran towards him, unsheathing his claws. As he got close, Scythe bounced away, destabilizing the scrap pile and sending it all crashing down on Trail, who barely got out of the way in time.

"That's what you get for the mountains," Scythe called to him. He was inside the dead monster! Trail and Pinestripe bolted towards him from either side of the monster, blocking the rogue's escape from the holes in the monster's sides.

Scythe tried to leap out over Trail, but Trail was ready. Reaching his claws up as Scythe soared over him, he brought them both crashing to the ground. Trail held Scythe down by digging his claws into the white-furred shoulders.

"Why are you after me?" the brown tom hissed. "Tell me who sent you!"

"No, I don't think I will." Scythe kicked out with his hind legs, forcing Trail off him as serrated claws dug into his stomach. Before Trail could blink away the pain, Scythe had darted forward and sunk his teeth deep into the loner's back leg. Blood spilled out, making Trail gasp from the throbbing.

"That's payback," said the rogue. Just then, Pinestripe landed squarely on his back. The moment she did, Scythe had thrown himself backward through the air without hesitation. Pinestripe was squished between the ground and the assassin's bony back. As she gasped for breath, Scythe dug his nails deep into her.

"Get off her!" Trail hurried forward, but Scythe whipped around and had grabbed Trail's neck with his teeth before the loner knew what had happened. Continuing to churn the Windclan cat's back with his legs, Scythe twisted his head slightly, about to snap Trail's neck.

Another snap came before that, though; a twig, somewhere nearby. Scythe froze, his ears listening and his eyes wide.

From around a pile of the Twoleg junk, two foxes appeared. They were sniffing around, probably having been drawn by the commotion. They noticed the three frozen cats and hurried toward them, barking.

Pinestripe took the opportunity to break free from Scythe, and Trail followed suit. They ran towards the forest, Trail limping behind her as blood spilled from his leg wound.

Turning around before entering the trees, he saw Scythe had vanished as well. The foxes were still hunting around the Twoleg jungle, searching.