Give me a chance!
Poolpelt woke with a start. Goldenfur's gaze was burned in her memory.
A chance for what?
She didn't need to ask.
She knew.

The intensity in his mew, the desperation in his eyes.
Seeing his longing was like looking at a reflection of her heart.
She felt the same tug.
The same longing to be closer.

But how could they be together?
They were from different Clans!
They shouldn't feel this way.

Groggily Poolpelt floundered out of her nest and stumbled from the den and padded down.
The clouds had cleared, leaving behind a pale leaf-fall sky.
Dawn was breaking over the camp, sending yellow light spilling across the snowy clearing.
Cold air nipped Poolpelt's nose and her black paws.

Shadowfoot pushed past her, heading for Highrock where Rainpelt was organizing the day's duties. "Are you coming, Poolpelt?" The white warrior called over his shoulder.

Thornwing and Featherfall were already watching in the shadow of the rock.
Bladewing watched from the Elders's den, as though he still missed his life as a warrior, though it had ended many seasons ago.
Briarpool and Briarfang shared fresh-kill nearby, while Bluefeather and Hawkflame paced restlessly, their pelts fluffed against the chill.
Their apprentices, Dovepaw and Robinpaw, practiced battle moves at the edge of the snowy clearing.

"Hi, Poolpelt!" Splashpaw bounced out of the apprentices's den. "What are we doing today?"
Poolpelt hadn't planned the day's training yet. Her thoughts had been filled with Goldenfur. "Hunting." She meowed, saying the first thing that came into her head.
"Okay." Splashpaw was satisfied.

"We must increase our hunting patrols," Rainpelt announced. "Cold weather will mean hunger, and we'll face it better if we feed well now."

Shadowfoot's tail whisked across the snow. "When do we set the new border markers around Icerocks?"
"Icestar plans to send a battle patrol at dusk," Rainpelt told him.

"I want to be part of it," Shadowfoot declared.
"You will be," Rainpelt promised. "But StarClan willing, there'll be no need to fight."
Shadowfoot didn't answer, just sank his claws into the soft snow.

Poolpelt's heart quickened. What if she met Goldenfur in battle? How could she fight him now?

"Poolpelt?" Rainpelt was staring at her. "I hear you got a thorn in your pad yesterday. You'd better stay in camp today and let it heal."
Guilt shot through her. "It's much better today."
"We don't want it getting infected," Rainpelt reasoned. ""You can help out in the nursery instead."

"But I promised Splashpaw I'd take her hunting."
Hawkflame sat up from his meal. "I'm taking Robinpaw to the cold hollow. Splashpaw can come with us," he offered. "They can practice battle moves."
"Thanks." Poolpelt stared at her black paws, her ears hot, wishing that she really had stepped on a thorn.
She lifted her head and watched ruefully as her apprentice followed Hawkflame out of camp.
She was telling lies already, and she hadn't even met with Goldenfur yet.

"Can I give you some ointment for that paw?" Flowertail took her by surprise.
"N-no, thanks." Poolpelt tucked her supposedly injured black paw quickly behind the other, hoping she wouldn't ask to examine it.
"Not sore?"
Poolpelt shook her head. "It must have just been a sharp bit of grass or something," she rambled. "Just a scratch, really."

Flowertail flicked her tail. "It just shows," she mewed. "Cats should stick to their own territory."
Did she know she was lying? Poolpelt searched the medicine cat's gaze. Perhaps StarClan had told her something.
"Well, keep it clean and if it does start to throb, come and get something from the medicine den." Flowertail padded toward the nursery.
If StarClan didn't want her to meet Goldenfur, surely they would have said something to Flowertail, something that would make her stop her?
Maybe StarClan wanted this to happen.
Maybe it was her destiny.

"I hate being left behind." Snowheart sighed.
Poolpelt lifted her chin off her paws. "They'll be back soon," she soothed.

She was supposed to keep Snowheart company while the battle patrol set the new border at Icerocks.
But her thoughts were busy with Goldenfur.
What would he say? What would she say?
What if she did something frost-brained, like trip over her own tail?

She stared at the dew sparkling the snowy clearing.
The moon was rising.

"Do you think they fought?" The white queen glanced anxiously at Poolpelt.
Poolpelt pricked her ears, listening for battle yowls.
Would the noise reach this far?
Which cats would Sparrowstar choose to defend the rocks?

Stones clattered in the ravine.
Poolpelt sat up, her heart racing.
"Did you win?" she called to Icestar as she led the patrol into camp.
"The frost-hearts didn't show up!" Blackfrost crowed.

Hawkflame followed. "They hadn't even renewed their markers."
Poolpelt felt relief washing over her pelt.
Goldenfur was safe.

Icestar gazed around her Clan. "From now on, no Clan will dare threaten our borders."

Snowheart purred as Crowclaw padded over and pressed his muzzle to hers. "There will be plenty of fresh-kill for our kits this leaf-bare," Crowclaw murmured.

Poolpelt got to her black paws.
What was the mood in the DawnClan camp?
Bleak enough for Goldenfur to change his mind about meeting a IceClan cat?
She would still go to Fourtrees.
If he felt half as restless and distracted as she did, he'd be there.

"Let's celebrate!" Rainpelt stood at the fresh-kill pile and began tossing to her Clanmates.
Poolpelt narrowed her eyes. Why couldn't they just go to their dens and sleep? Her claws itched with frustration.
By the time she sneaked out, Goldenfur might think she wasn't coming.

What if he went home?
Was she really going to slip out of camp and meet the DawnClan warrior?

Featherfall tossed a sparrow at her black paws. "Join us!" she called.
She was lying with Amberleaf and Thornwing, already making a hearty meal of a plump squirrel.
Poolpelt shrugged.
She didn't have any appetite—in fact, she couldn't imagine ever being hungry again—but she didn't want her Clanmates to start asking awkward questions or send her back to Flowertail.
She padded over to Featherfall and forced herself to take a mouthful of the sparrow. It tasted like splintered wood.

Her heart thudded and skittered as she willed her Clanmates to their nests.

Only when the moon hung high overhead did they begin to head for their dens.
Poolpelt stretched, pretending to yawn.
She'd never felt less tired, but she padded into the warriors's den, declaring to every cat within earshot how much she was looking forward to a good night's sleep.

The den was dark, despite the swollen moon.
Poolpelt tripped over Springleaf as she picked her way to her nest. "Sorry," she hissed when Springleaf grunted.

She curled down in the moss, eyes wide, as her denmates settled around her.
None of them seemed willing to end the celebrations.

"I thought they'd fight for Icerocks," Thornwing admitted.
"They might fight yet," Blackfrost growled. "New markers or not."
Were they going to talk about those wretched stones till dawn?

"Are you okay?" Amberleaf nudged Poolpelt's nest. "You keep fidgeting."
"I'm fine." Poolpelt answered quickly.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to go to Icerocks," Amberleaf sympathized. "But you didn't miss much."
"I din't mind." Poolpelt closed her eyes.
Go to sleep! Go to sleep!
At last the den grew quiet. Gentle snores stirred the air.

Gingerly, Poolpelt got to her black paws. Glancing around the nests, she looked for eyes glinting in the darkness.
Nothing.
Every cat was asleep.
She padded silently around the edge of the den.

Something soft squashed beneath her black paw.
"Get off!" Ravenbird's sleepy mew made her jump.
She stared down at the tom sprawled in his nest.
She'd stepped on his tail.
"Sorry!"
He blinked, then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Poolpelt finally slipped out of the den.

She skirted the snowy clearing, keeping to the shadows.
No sign of life.

She crept toward the stone tunnel and crouched in the entrance.

She could hear Briarfang keeping watch outside, his pelt brushing the stone as he fidgeted.
She waited until she heard his paw steps pad away.
He must be patrolling the camp walls.

She waited a moment, then scooted through the stone tunnel and the second she reached out, she slipped into the frozen bushes on the other side.
No sign of Briarfang.

She darted out from the frozen leaves and clambered over a rock, slipping down behind it, her breath coming fast.

She couldn't believe what she was doing: betraying everything that had once been important to her.
She was a traitor, and not just to herself.
To her Clan.
To the warrior code.

Silently, swiftly, she raced along the ravine and bounded up the rocks, careful not to disturb any loose stones.
The moon lit her way as she scrambled over the top and sneaked into the snowy forest.

Snow turned to grass as she followed the trail used by the Clan to go to the Gathering, Poolpelt hurried through the snowy forest.
Poolpelt hurried through the forest.
Moonlight shone through the bare branches, making the forest floor glow.

Had he waited?

Her heart rose to her throat when she reached the edge of the hollow.
Below her, Fourtrees stood eerily silent, casting thick black shadows across the clearing.

If Poolpelt kept going, she would change the course of her life.
She knew it with such intensity that her black paws began to freeze.

For a moment she sensed the spirit of Feathershine.
Her sister's scent drifted in the air as birch-smooth fur wreathed around her pelt.
Feathershine was trying to tell her something.
What is it?

Frustration surged through Poolpelt's pelt.
Was Feathershine trying to stop her, or was she giving her blessing?

"I have to do this," Poolpelt whispered. "Please understand. It doesn't mean that I don't love you, or that I'm not loyal to my Clan."

She shook herself, letting the cold night air pierce her fur and chase away the scents of her sister.

Then she stepped over the crest and headed down the slope into the moon-bathed hollow.