Larkpaw stood on her hind legs as she stretched as far as she could to stick a twig between two branches.

Finally, the stick was in the right place. Panting, the tortico she-cat dropped back onto her front paws and looked at her work so far.

Mottlepaw emerged from the other side. "Hard to believe," the dark red she-cat puffed. "Now it won't be long until my final assessment, but I still have to patch up dens."

Lakepaw poked his head out from under the bushes. "Make sure no one hears you," he warned. "Otherwise you'll have to wait another six moons."

Mottlepaw then wiped his nose with her tail and stalked off.

"Do you think it will last long enough?" Larkpaw asked hesitantly. "It looks pretty unstable to me."

Lakepaw pushed himself out of the elders' den and examined the outer wall. "We'll see when the time comes."

Larkpaw would have liked to share the dark grey and white tom's optimism. Nevertheless, she had doubts. "I definitely don't want to have laboured in vain," she whispered. She turned her paws in the direction of the nursery. "I'll go and see how things are there," she informed Lakepaw.

Amberpaw, Mushroompaw and Birchpaw were responsible for improving the nursery. Today, all the cats in the Clan were busy preparing the camp for the coming cold leaf-changes.

Larkpaw was looking forward to this time, even if she was a little anxious. She had been a tiny kit during the last leaf-bare, and besides, she was born towards the end of that leaf-change, so she couldn't remember it. This would now be her first real leaf-bare.

At the nursery, the cats were much further along. The mountain of branches, moss and leaves that were supposed to fill the undergrowth in front of the den was already much smaller than last time. In many places in the bushes it was no longer possible to see into the den.

While the apprentices worked, the kits romped around in a hollow. They had a pine cone as a toy, which was probably brought by one of the patrols.

Owl interrupted his participation in the game for a moment and scampered to the edge of the hollow. His playmates growled indignantly, but he ignored them. "When can we finally go back to the nursery?" the grey-brown tabby tom with the white legs squeaked.

"Why do you want to go to the nursery?" Blossom, who came bounding over, asked. Her red tail swished through the air. "It's much nicer here!"

Larkpaw purred. These kits were so carefree that she felt a twinge of jealousy.

Now Mistkit interfered. "Soon you'll be glad you stayed out so long today," the dark grey tabby tom explained pompously.

Blossom tilted her head. "Really?" For a moment, she looked around, blinking, before she blurted out, "Why isn't my name Blossomkit?"

"Yes, exactly!" Nettle meowed, holding the pine cone with his front paws and batting at it with his hind paws. "Why do you all have names like that, but we don't?"

So they notice the difference between them and the Clan kits. Larkpaw padded over to them. "That's because you're not Clan cats," she replied.

Owl fluffed up his downy fur. "That's not true at all!"

"Yes, it is," Larkpaw disagreed, feverishly searching for the right words to tell the kits the truth about their true origins.

Mistkit beat her to it, though. "Because you're rogues," he meowed simply.

Blossom's eyes widened. "That's mean of you!" the brown she-cat protested. "We're not rogues. Bramblekit said that we're not." She looked around searchingly. "Bramblekit isn't here again."

Larkpaw and Mistkit exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Is she..." Larkpaw began, even though she already knew the answer.

"In the medicine cat's den, yes," Mistkit confirmed her guess. "I guess she really means it."

At that moment, Shadowkit joined them. Concern gleamed in his blue eyes. "We tried to talk her out of it, but Bramblekit won't listen to us," the grey tabby tom said.

"If you ask me, she doesn't give me the impression that she wants to," Mistkit said thoughtfully.

Larkpaw had no choice but to agree with him.

Suddenly, a high-pitched mew shattered the silence. Blossom threw herself forwards and slithered in front of the older cat's paws. "Great, and we're just being ignored!" she complained in a drawn-out tone.

Larkpaw purred with amusement. "I think I'll leave you alone again now."

With these words, she turned round and trotted to her sister. Amberpaw was so absorbed in her task of stuffing moss into the holes in the undergrowth that she only noticed Larkpaw when she nudged her with her nose.

"Oh. Hello," Amberpaw mumbled, twitching her ears.

Larkpaw looked curiously at the nursery. "You're pretty far along, it seems," she stated.

Amberpaw's dark amber eyes lit up for a moment. She ran her tongue over her flews and kneaded the ground with her claws before she murmured, "You have to watch out for Nettle. He nearly bit my tail off just now." The reddish-golden she-cat flicked her feather-soft tail in front of Larkpaw's face. "I didn't even notice him coming."

"Really?" Larkpaw chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I see him."

Amberpaw huffed. "It hurt. Those kits' teeth are sharp."

Now a little worried, Larkpaw sniffed her tail. But apart from a tiny, barely visible nick that was covered by the fur, she couldn't see any serious injuries.

Embarrassed, Amberpaw flattened her ears and pranced away.

Sootfeather came running up with another load of twigs. "That looks good," the grey she-cat praised.

When she heard her mentor's compliment, Amberpaw blinked happily.

Then Sootfeather's gaze fell on Larkpaw. "Aren't you in charge of the elders' den?"

Larkpaw's fur prickled unpleasantly under her scrutinising green gaze. "I was just about to go there again," she lied.

"Do as much as you can today," Sootfeather meowed. "But make sure you leave a gap for the entrance. It's best to do it like this..."

Larkpaw didn't hear the rest, because she was already on her way back to the elders' den.

In her absence, Lakepaw and Mottlepaw had done a great job. The den seemed to have tripled in size.

Mottlepaw was currently struggling with a long branch fork. "Where have you been?" she wanted to know in a sour voice. "You can't just stay away for so long."

"Don't get so upset," Lakepaw jumped to Larkpaw's defence. "We've made quite a bit of progress, haven't we?"

In response, Mottlepaw only lashed her tail and set up the branch fork.

She was right. I can't just abandon my Clanmates like this, Larkpaw realised painfully.

But when Lakepaw nudged her encouragingly, her sadness disappeared. Suddenly she felt as light and unburdened as a feather. Why do I feel so happy around him?

"We can continue inside," Lakepaw suggested.

"All right." Larkpaw followed him through the small, still unfinished tunnel that served as a temporary entrance to the elders' den.

It was dark inside the den. There were only a few light sources. The hollows were already dug deeper and sufficiently padded.

In one place, there was a pile of moss that Lakepaw pointed at with his tail. "We still have to put that into the last openings. But be careful so that nothing collapses," he added as Larkpaw took the first scrap of moss and ran with it to a hole through which sunlight was still falling.

She stuffed it carefully. There we go. Satisfied with herself, she whirled around — and bumped her nose against Lakepaw's in a decidedly ungentle way.

Startled, she staggered to the side. It was only a moment later that she localised the pain and curled her muzzle. By my whiskers, that hurts a lot!

Lakepaw also seemed surprised by the collision. He twitched his nose scrutinisingly. "Nothing happened," he stated. "Are you all right?"

Larkpaw grew hot under her dark pelt. "Yes, I'm fine," she pressed out between clenched teeth. Why do I always have to be so clumsy? I bet I'll fall over my own tail one day!

"At least you didn't bump into the den wall," Lakepaw purred in a joking tone, "otherwise it would have been ruined."

Larkpaw also struggled to make a faint purr before she carefully made her way to the moss pile and took the next load into her mouth.

The rest of the time, the two continued to work in different parts of the den. Larkpaw was careful not to make any jerky movements so as not to cause another accident.

Does he think I'm incompetent now? Larkpaw was filled with shame again. The thought of it made her uncomfortable. Something like that could happen to any cat.

Nevertheless, she felt strangely bad about the incident. In the meantime, she had the impression that she enjoyed spending time with Lakepaw more and more often. Every time they were assigned to a task together, Larkpaw's heart started beating wildly and for a few heartbeats it was as if her tongue was tied in a knot so that she couldn't make a sound.

I wonder if we are friends. With her tail tip twitching, Larkpaw searched for more gaps that needed to be closed. She thought of Cloverleaf and Smallblotch, who had got on so well before the former's death.

Larkpaw let out a silent sigh. She wasn't even sure if she had any friends at all. She had the feeling that she got along better with Amberpaw than she used to, but they were also littermates.

And what about Silversky? Or is it strange to be friends with my mentor?

Filled with frustration and confusion, Larkpaw whipped her tail once. She would never have guessed that friendships could be so complicated.

Then, without warning, a loud screech sounded. Larkpaw jumped back in shock.

Lakepaw seemed to have been startled by the sound as well. "What's going on?" the dark grey and white tabby tom mumbled, confused.

Larkpaw followed him outside. They obviously weren't the only ones who were curious. All the cats who were in the camp at the moment had stopped their work and were eyeing two cats in the centre of the clearing with wide eyes — Smallblotch and Lilacclaw.

What's going on there? Larkpaw cautiously stepped a little closer, but kept enough distance.

Smallblotch had puffed herself up to twice her size and was standing opposite Lilacclaw, snarling.

In contrast to Smallblotch, Lilacclaw seemed startled or even frightened. The young, lilac warrior, of whom Larkpaw only knew that she often stayed in the background, had her ears flattened and her amber eyes wide open.

Before anyone else could react, Pinefur darted forward and threw herself between the two arguing she-cats. "Enough now!" the reddish-brown she-cat growled angrily. "By StarClan, what's got into you?" She looked sceptically from one cat to the other.

Neither Lilacclaw nor Smallblotch said anything at first. But then Smallblotch raised her muzzle resolutely. Her amber eyes flashed. "Give me proof why one of you didn't kill Cloverleaf!"

Larkpaw gasped for air. Where did she get that idea?

"What are you meowing about?" Shrewstalk called. "That's not true." He turned imploringly to Ravenleap and Starlingtalon, who were standing next to him.

Starlingtalon stepped from one paw to the other. "I'm not so sure anymore," the dark brown tabby she-cat admitted. "In truth, we don't know anything concrete about Cloverleaf's death."

Ravenleap tilted his head thoughtfully. "We just came to a conclusion like that."

Smallblotch stuck out her chest triumphantly. "I know that another cat has Cloverleaf on their conscience," the black and white spotted warrior hissed. "There's no denying that."

"Then why are you blaming Lilacclaw of all cats?" Pinefur demanded to know. Her tone sounded calm, but her posture was tense, her claws unsheathed.

For a brief moment, Smallblotch looked uncertain. Then she regained her composure. She gave Lilacclaw, who had stepped backwards, a look of stone. "You don't know what it's like. Cloverleaf was the only one I could trust. There was no one else who understood me better. And now she's gone!"

She's grieving, Larkpaw realised. She's mad with grief. She doesn't know what she's saying.

"But that's no reason to attack your Clanmates indiscriminately," Pinefur clarified. "It's true, we have no actual proof of the cause of death. But no one had a reason to kill Cloverleaf."

Smallblotch froze. "Oh yes, one did," she growled softly. "There's a cat who had every reason to."

Surprised meows rang out. Larkpaw twitched her ears. "I'm curious about that."

"Me too," Lakepaw added anxiously.

"Who is it?" Pinefur asked challengingly. Now she also lost her relaxed attitude. "If you dare to accuse a Clanmate, surely you can also mention their name."

Before Smallblotch was able to give an answer, one of the hunting patrol, led by Palestar, reappeared. When she saw the assembled cats, she dropped her prey. "What's going on?"

Smallblotch arched her back and rushed forward. Startled, the cats backed away.

With a snarl, the black and white she-cat threw herself at Chestnutstripe — her claws unsheathed. At the last moment Chestnutstripe was able to dodge. Smallblotch, however, was not deterred. She launched another attack and bit into his left foreleg.

Chestnutstripe howled in pain.

"What are you doing?" Shrewstalk gasped. He wanted to rush forward, but Ravenleap blocked his path. "Don't!" he meowed. "Don't put yourself in danger, too."

Shrewstalk looked as if he would prefer to disobey his littermate's wishes.

Palestar jumped forward and pulled Smallblotch away from Chestnutstripe. "Mousedung, what's got into you?" The leader trembled, probably more from anger than fear. "I go on patrol once and my warriors are at each other's throats in camp."

Larkpaw had never seen Palestar like this before. Before, she had known her as a calm and composed she-cat. However, she also had every reason to be angry.

To protect him, Palestar pushed herself in front of Chestnutstripe and prevented Smallblotch from getting to him. "You never, never attack Clanmates. Would you like to explain to us how you came up with this idea?"

All hostility disappeared from Smallblotch's posture. Ears flattened and shoulders slumped, she looked around at the RoseClan cats.

Every single one avoided her gaze. Even Shrewstalk made no move to support her.

After this incident, no cat will be well-disposed towards her anymore, Larkpaw thought grimly.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Palestar raised her head resolutely.

Smallblotch tensed. Larkpaw feared that she would jump at Palestar now, too.

Instead, Smallblotch turned round and fled from the camp.

The RoseClan cats were so taken aback that they didn't react. Then Shrewstalk was the first to run to the Birchtunnel. "Come back!" he meowed.

Starlingtalon slid to his side. "Leave her alone," she ordered. "She brought this on herself."

Shrewstalk bared his teeth. "I'm disappointed to hear you say that."

"No," Palestar intervened. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Starlingtalon." Her blue eyes flashed. "The moment Smallblotch attacked Chestnutstripe — more likely the moment she planned to harm a Clanmate, she made herself a traitor. And there's no place for cats like that in a Clan."

Larkpaw scratched her paws uneasily. That sounded harsh.

"But we will discuss that later when all cats are back in camp," Palestar decided. "Until then I don't want to hear a single word about Smallblotch. And Fruittail, you take care of Chestnutstripe's wound."

The medicine cat was already pushing her way through the crowd, the necessary herbs in her mouth. "I don't like to waste my supply for leaf-fall and leaf-bare. But it's necessary."

Bramblekit padded behind Fruittail, watching her uncertainly as she treated the wound.

"I can't believe the place I've taken my kits to."

Larkpaw wheeled round. She was so fixated on what was happening in front of her that she had missed how Flutter had come closer.

The light ginger she-cat sat down, pain shining in her moss-green eyes. "For a while, I really thought we were safe here. But apparently I was wrong."

In horror, Larkpaw jumped to her paws. "Don't say that!" The words just spilled out of her without her even thinking about it. "Yes, what you just saw was extreme and also intimidating. But there's no way you should believe that something like that happens more often."

She paused, gasping. I hope I'm right about that.

Slowly, Flutter blinked. Larkpaw's words seemed to make her think.

In this moment, Nettle, Blossom and Owl hopped over and threw themselves on the ground, meowing loudly. Larkpaw involuntarily let out a half-hearted purr. No matter what happens, these kits are always in a good mood. We should take them as an example.

Blossom pushed forward with wide eyes. "But we don't want to leave here!" she clarified.

"We want to have Clan names," Nettle added.

"Please, please, please let us stay," Owl pleaded.

Overwhelmed by their heartbreaking looks, Flutter couldn't seem to find the right words to respond.

Larkpaw leaned a little closer to Lakepaw and whispered, "What do you think?"

Lakepaw twitched his whiskers. "I don't really know. After all, they used to be rogues. How can we know that we can trust them in the long run?"

Larkpaw hung her head in response. On the one paw, she would have expected Lakepaw to share her opinion, but on the other paw, she knew why he thought so. When he was still a kit, rogues had attacked the RoseClan camp and killed Larkpaw's mother, among others.

Imaginary thorny tendrils wrapped themselves around her heart. She had had so much on her mind lately that she hadn't even thought about Twilightwing. 

"You're too young to understand," Flutter said now. "We don't belong here."

Larkpaw widened her eyes. "No, that's not true!" she protested. "You mustn't go away!"

But Flutter avoided her gaze. "I'm sorry. My decision is finalised."

Whining, the kits clung to her legs. It almost broke Larkpaw's heart to see them so desperate. They know nothing else. She only really realised that now. When they came to RoseClan, they weren't even a moon old. The camp is the only place they can remember.

Tentatively, she stretched out a paw. "Have you spoken to Aster and Fennel yet?" Her heart pounded hard as she thought about how they might be against leaving the clan. Then Flutter would be outvoted.

"No," Flutter replied, "but I'm sure they want to leave too."

Larkpaw sank to the ground. They mustn't do that.

Then she lifted her head. The rest of the hunting patrols returned. It was time to talk about Smallblotch and what was going to happen to her.