The next morning, Midnightstar woke her Clanmates. They were getting ready to leave when Ember spoke up. "Midnightstar," she mewed. "This might be too much to ask, seeing as you've helped us so much already. But we were wondering−well, we were wondering..."

"We were wondering if we might join you," Crimson finished hopefully.

"Oh." Midnightstar blinked. "You want to join SwiftClan?"

"If you'll let us," Glare said.

"That would be great!" Foxhunt exclaimed. Then she looked abashedly at Midnightstar. "I mean, if Midnightstar agrees."
"Sure," Midnightstar mewed. "If you want, we can do warrior ceremonies right now."

"Yes, please!" Crimson meowed.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here below the−well, just gather here," Midnightstar finished awkwardly. "Crimson, Ember, and Glare, step forward."

They obeyed.

"I, Midnightstar of SwiftClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these apprentices. Crimson, Glare, and Ember, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do."

"I do."

"I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Crimson, Glare, and Ember, from this moment on, you shall be known as Crimsonclover, Sharpeyes, and Emberburn."

The others began to chant. "Crimsonclover! Sharpeyes! Emberburn!"

Midnightstar blinked warmly at the new warriors. "Usually, we'd have you sit vigil−that is, stay awake all night to keep watch over the camp−but since we don't have a camp...anyways, we need to get going if we want to reach our new territory."

Quickly, they began to walk away from the rising sun. By sunhigh, they'd made it out of the Twolegplace, and by dusk they were at the edge of an entirely new terrain. Grass taller than the cats waved over the marshy ground. Muddy paths cut through the grass and buglike creatures scuttled over the wet ground.

Midnightstar directed them to return to a spot they'd been at earlier, at the dry roots of a huge tree. "It's not safe to navigate that in the dark," she explained. "We'll sleep here. In the morning we'll keep moving."

They fell asleep. The next morning, they kept walking, padding along the narrow paths. The air smelled of salt, and when they tried to drink from a river, they found that it was salty and moved on in disgust. Hidden stones and shells in the mud cut their pads and the mud itself clung to their coats.

Suddenly, a dusky brown apprentice rolled out of the grass in front of them.

He spotted SwiftClan and his fur bushed out. "Who-who are you?" he demanded. "Get off our territory!"

"Whoa," Midnightstar said. "Slow down. We didn't realize we were on your territory. We're just passing through."

"Well...who are you? No rogues live in groups like that. Right?"

"We're not rogues," Midnightstar told him. "We're SwiftClan."