The inside of Dapplestar's den was surprisingly big. The floor of the den was dirt with a large nest of moss and feathers in the corner. The silver she-cat sat regally, curling her tail over her paws. Goldthorn looked tense, sitting down stiffly. With a rather awkward shuffle of his paws, Volestripe sat as well. Dapplestar parted her jaws,
"What happened?"

Goldthorn cleared his throat. "We were patrolling the Twolegplace border. Logflight and Bramblepaw went one way and Volestripe and I went the other. We had finished marking the border and were almost back to the meeting point when we heard a screech. We found a cream she-cat with black speckles on her chest and a brown tabby rogue she-cat fighting them."

"Diva is technically a kittypet though that might of changed since I joined." Volestripe added.

Goldthorn glared at him, promptly shutting him up. Dapplestar's eyes were troubled and she appeared deep in thought.

"A rogue attacked a FenClan warrior, now two others attack us... maybe one of them was the same one in FenClan?"

Dapplestar started to pace around her den, thinking hard.
"Volestripe, you know these cats?" She asked, turning to face him.
Volestripe swallowed. "Yes, the cream she-cat was Diva. She lived a few blocks from my old nest. Sparrownose was a good friend of hers. I don't know the other one."

Dapplestar nodded thoughtfully.
"Volestripe, you can go."
Dipping his head to his superiors, Volestripe quickly got up and left.

The first thing Volestripe saw when he left the den was Cloudmist padding over, looking worried.
"There you are!" She called out. "I was looking for you."
Volestripe felt his heart squirm slightly, surprising him.
"Rabbitstripe wants us for a hunting patrol."
Volestripe felt his heart slump.
"Sure, let's go."

Rabbitstripe led the patrol towards the Dead Ash, an old tree that had been struck by lightning moons ago. Rabbitstripe paused, parting his jaws to scent the air.
"Spread out." He ordered before slipping between some ferns and disappearing from sight. Cloudmist began to try to catch a scent and Volestripe, not wanting to stand there awkwardly, moved away in the opposite direction. The forest around him was lush and bright, grass tickled his paw pads and leaves whistled softly in the breeze. Picking up the smell of mouse, he dropped into a crouch. Several leaves fluttered as a small furry body poked its head up from amongst the leaves. Checking the direction of the wind, Volestripe circled around, creeping carefully towards the mouse. It didn't know he was there, good. Volestripe's lunge sent the surrounding plants rattling but it was too late for the mouse whose limp body dangled from the tom's mouth.

It was nearing sunset when Volestripe managed to catch a pigeon. The catch had been messy as he had stupidly stood on a twig. Rabbitstripe and Cloudmist had returned to camp with their catches, leaving Volestripe alone. Carrying both the mouse and the bird left him unable to scent anything, so when a shape hurtled into him he was caught by surprise. The shape didn't stop, just ran through the trees, leaving Volestripe confused and dazed. He staggered to camp and, upon arrival, deposited his prey on the pile.

Dapplestar was sharing tongues with Badgertail outside the nursery as Mudkit and Crowkit played moss-ball. Volestripe gulped. Badgertail had a sharp tongue and greatly disapproved of there being kittypets in the Clan.
"Dapplestar?" He asked tentatively. "I think there was another rogue in the territory."
Dapplestar's head jolted upwards. "Where?"
"I was hunting near Hillslope when something barreled into me. It didn't attack or do anything, just carried on running."
Dapplestar rose to her paws and called for Blackwhisker and Sparrownose to follow her.
Volestripe, completely exhausted, headed for his nest and collapsed on top of it.

********************************************
She observed them, walking through the tall grass so confidently, chatting quietly to each other. The brown tortoiseshell carried a bundle of leaves and flowers in her jaws, the lithe silver tabby only there for protection.
We have them worried. Good.
The grey tom's yellow eyes narrowed, flattening his ears, he parted his jaws.
Time to go.
She whisked away, moving speedily through the waving grass.

Stars shone down on the camp, the moon faintly illuminating the two figures moving silently along the edges. They snuck into one of the dens, unseen and unheard. The light brown tabby sorted through the neatly organized herbs, pulling out several. The two figures picked them up and vanished into the night.

No one heard nor saw them.