Honeywhisker's amber eyes were slits as he watched Silverpaw. The apprentice was tense as they padded along behind Wolfpounce, marking the boundary vigilantly. Her muscles were sore and her eyes stung with tiredness from a long night of training alone, a habit she'd taken up since her failed training session with Mistpaw a few days ago. If she ever wanted to protect those around her, she needed to be strong enough to fight off a threat.

    A strange sense of guilt wormed its way into her chest. Lichenpaw had mentioned Owlpaw sneaking out to train, and, in a way, she was copying him. But it wasn't her intention; she only wanted to be strong. If that meant training every night, that was exactly what she'd do.

    Though some found it unnecessary, it was important to keep the border along the lake acutely marked—it was three tail-lengths away from the water's edge to allow travelers safe passage without infringing on another's territory. It was uncommonly traversed, especially on RiverClan's side of the lake, but it was best to keep the smells fresh. It showed an air of responsibility, and kept the other Clans from seeing them as weak if they ever decided to poke around.

    It was a cloudy, windy morning. Sunrise had waned not long ago, but the shadows were still long amid the clouds for the early day. The smell of fresh rain pervaded her nostrils. The gray haze was still visible on the horizon, leftovers from the previous day's storm, but the wind carried the smell of more to come. The breeze was chilly, chasing away any warmth and instead biting into her pelt. In return, her fur was fluffed out. It did little to negate the chill, but such efforts were better than nothing. Silverpaw simply couldn't wait to return to the veil of trees, which had entirely lost their leaf-cover.

    Spotting a bare shrub growing along the shoreline, Silverpaw scraped her cheek along the branches, before racing to catch up to Wolfpounce's brisk pace. The tom always seemed intimidating, but was peaceful contrary to his gruff appearance. Patrols with him were always quiet ones, as he preferred not to speak on trivial matters.

    "What's that?" Honeywhisker mewed suddenly. Silverpaw glanced back at him, then ahead as she followed his gaze.

    Interestingly, a cat was walking along the lakeshore, a limp to their step.

    "Clearly, somebody's headed our way," Wolfpounce regarded softly.

    Silverpaw perked up, curiosity fizzing beneath her paws. What was a cat doing, traveling along the lake? A stab of sadness pierced her heart. Had Sorrelmouse been there, the two would speculate together until they came across the intruder. Instead, there was only a building silence.

    The patrol continued onwards, though their pace noticeably quickened as they grew nearer to the stranger. At a fair distance away, Silverpaw could finally catch the scent of the cat, which nearly sent her reeling to a halt.

    "It's ShadowClan." Her stomach swooped. "What's a ShadowClan cat doing here?"

    Honeywhisker growled, "Nothing good, that's for sure."

    For once, Silverpaw found herself agreeing with the tom.

    As they approached the enemy warrior, an unfamiliar rage began to brew in Silverpaw's veins as she analyzed the tom's face. His pale ginger muzzle was drawn in a grimace, baring his long fangs, and four claw marks, freshly scarred, lay across it. It took every ounce of willpower to keep her claws in their sheathes, but she managed.

    A tail-length from the warrior, Wolfpounce pulled to a stop and lifted his tail. "Gingerfang," he greeted coolly. "What brings you here?"

    Gingerfang glared at the trio through slitted eyes. Silverpaw could detect the faintest hint of fear-scent and the even stronger taste of blood lingering on the air.

    "I'm simply passing through," he growled lowly, his scarred muzzle peeled back to reveal his long fangs at their fullest. "The lake belongs to no cat."

    Honeywhisker snarled, his claws slipping out. "It wouldn't concern me if you hadn't just stolen our land." He tested the air. His amber eyes flashed. "Where's your Clanmate? You're not alone."

    Alarm scorched beneath Silverpaw's fur, and she took a deeper breath. Honeywhisker was right; the fresh smell of other cats clung to Gingerfang's pelt, yet they were nowhere in sight. Her claws itched in their sheathes, especially as the large warrior's tail began to nervously flick.

    "That's enough, Honeywhisker," Wolfpounce ordered calmly. He turned to address Gingerfang, "You're correct in being within the lakeshore, however, we will need to escort you the rest of the way to your territory."

    "That won't be necessary," Gingerfang growled, his discomfort visibly growing. "I know my way just fine, and I'll be sure to stay out of your land."

    "We're heading that way, anyways. Don't make this a problem and just let us go with you," Wolfpounce pressed.

    The ginger warrior hesitated. His eyes flicked to Silverpaw, his expression visibly souring and his scarred lip curling slightly, before flicking to Honeywhisker, and back to Wolfpounce. "Fine," he relented.

    Wolfpounce curtly nodded and moved closer to Gingerfang, flicking his tail briefly for the rest of the patrol to follow.

    Silverpaw found herself on the left side of Gingerfang, the forest at her flank, while Honeywhisker took up the rear. Her pelt was lifted while her eyes darted periodically to the tom. Her rage fizzled, and now, she merely felt uncomfortable, especially with the taste of iron so powerful.

    "Where are your Clanmates?" She eventually pried as they picked their way along the pebbled shore.

    Gingerfang glowered. "That's none of your concern."

    "Sure it is," Honeywhisker growled. "Are they on our land, spying on us?"

    "Of course not," Gingerfang snorted. "We're not that reckless."

    "Then what were you doing so far along the lake? ShadowClan has no business here."

    "That's none of your concern, either."

    Honeywhisker opened his mouth to continue, but Wolfpounce glanced over his shoulder with a glare, silencing the golden tom.

    The rest of their journey was in silence, with the cats stopping periodically to mark their boundary.

    They reached ShadowClan territory. Gingerfang continued on without glancing back, and the patrol watched until he disappeared from sight. Though another patrol had already done so, they continued on to mark a short distance of ShadowClan's border, just to ensure that their boundary was strong, much to Silverpaw's strife. Blood roared in her ears as they trekked along the pines, and when they finally cut off and began padding deeper within their own territory, her hackles lowered and she could breathe again.

    Upon returning to camp, Honeywhisker and Wolfpounce padded to the leader's den to report their findings, while Silverpaw broke off and fetched herself a small salmon, joining Mistpaw and Toadpaw to eat. They chatted idly about the day. Mistpaw had been hunting, while Toadpaw had been a part of the patrol along the ShadowClan border, where fortunately, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

    "I'd still like to claw Cloudstar's ears off," he bemoaned after swallowing a mouthful of vole. "I saw so much prey wandering beyond the new scentline. It drives me insane!"

    With her hindclaws, Mistpaw kicked at an itch at the back of her ear. "Maybe Pinestar will arrange a mission to reclaim it," she proposed. "No doubt he hates the situation as much as we do. Have you seen the arguments he and the senior warriors have been having?"

    Silverpaw was quiet as the two continued their discussion, her stomach churning. Another battle with ShadowClan? Especially with their warriors snooping around, it was certainly plausible, but she didn't think she'd be able to handle it. Especially not if Evefrost was there again.

    The thought of the former RiverClan warrior stirred a hornet's nest of emotions. Anger, grief, and betrayal all swirled inside of her, as well as a pang of longing as she recalled Sorrelmouse's final moments. When she saw Evefrost next, Silverpaw had no idea what she'd do. Did she even have the strength to fight her?

    "Silverpaw?"

    Silverpaw jolted. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

    "Minnowstripe said she arranged another group training session tomorrow," Mistpaw explained. "I asked if you were looking forward to it."

    Silverpaw shrugged. "It could be fun."

    Mistpaw's eyes gleamed. "Absolutely! You'll do better this time, I'm certain," she prattled.

    The apprentices continued eating, the conversation now diverting to training. Toadpaw was hoping to catch some more land prey on his next patrol. "After all, we don't know when we'll need it," he explained brightly.

    Silverpaw nodded eagerly. She always thrived at hunting. According to Sorrelmouse, she had an extraordinarily keen sense of smell, at least for a RiverClan cat. It happened to be one of the few things she surpassed Owlpaw in. The thought immediately wiped the smile off her face, and she turned her eyes to her paws.

    After a few moments, Mistpaw roughly jabbed Silverpaw in the ribs. The tabby whipped around to scowl at her friend. "What?" She hissed.

    The dark she-cat nodded beyond Silverpaw's shoulders. "Look! Salmonskip's coming over."

    Silverpaw whirled around, surprise swimming through her. Was this about the patrol? Had Salmonskip something to say about Gingerfang?

    The gray tabby stopped a few tail-lengths away, his amber eyes uneasy. "Silverpaw, Pinestar and I need your assistance," he explained. "I'd like you to join us in his den."

    Silverpaw exchanged an astonished glance with her friends. She turned her eyes back to Salmonskip. "You'd like... my assistance?" She echoed. "What about Honeywhisker or Wolfpounce?"

    Ignoring her question, Salmonskip insisted, "Immediately, Silverpaw."

    Discomfort bubbled up in her stomach like bile. "Okay."

    Waving her tail in farewell to Mistpaw and Toadpaw, she followed after the gray tabby. She gazed up at the gently waving willow fronds, then back ahead as Salmonskip slipped between the roots of the massive tree. Inside, the den was stale and musty. Pinestar was sitting up in his nest, decorated in feathers and smooth stones, and he welcomed the two with a soft murmur.

    The leader's eyes, once such a lively green, were dark. His face was gaunt, and his pelt looked like it hadn't been groomed for days. Silverpaw felt her heart drop to her stomach.

    There was a tense silence as the leader struggled for words. "You claimed the rogues have a particular scent, yes?"

    Anxiously, she swallowed. "That's correct."

    Pinestar sighed. He shut his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, they shone with uncertainty. "I need you to identify a scent for me," he said slowly. "Salmonskip and I found a strange trail on the border, but we cannot know for sure where they originate. We need to know if they're the cats who attacked you and your brother."

    Silverpaw flinched. "You expect me to do what?"

    "I know it's a lot to ask—"

    "I can't do it!"

    "Silverpaw..." Salmonskip touched his tail to her shoulder.

    She backed away from the deputy, her rear brushing against a wall and halting her in her tracks. "I can't do it." Her head snapped back in Pinestar's direction, her chest rapidly rising and falling in a panic. "I can't! I haven't been to that border for moons. I—"

    "This isn't up for debate," Pinestar warned. "If it's necessary, you can visit Wishfern to ease your nerves, but this is for the sake of the Clan." His tone wavered, plagued by stress and frustration. "If these truly are the cats who hurt you, we'll be certain that they're a threat, and work correspondingly. We need your help, Silverpaw."

    Trembling, the apprentice sat down, her mind a whirlwind of grief. "Couldn't you find one of the cats who rescued me? Surely they smelt the rogues at least once."

    Solemnly, Salmonskip shook his head. "The rain washed away any trails, there is too much uncertainty to pin anything down. You're the only cat who can do this."

    "Can't Toadpaw come with me?" Silverpaw blurted the first name that came to mind. She could nearly see his green eyes, so warm and comforting. Immediately, however, she began to regret her words, her eagerness for his company nulled by a sense of fear.

    The two were quiet for a moment. "Go fetch him," Pinestar mewed. "We'll be leaving shortly."

    Silverpaw nodded, her heart in her throat as she backed out of the den. Mistpaw and Toadpaw were still waiting for her, and she trotted over, her tail drooping.

    "What was that about?" Mistpaw mewed eagerly, her tail flicking back and forth. "The Clan leader and deputy requesting your presence? Crazy!"

    Toadpaw's eyes darted along Silverpaw's figure, his tone much softer than his counterpart, "Are you okay?"

    Silverpaw could barely meet the eyes of her friends, her mind spinning. Was this really a good idea? She wondered, her breath catching as she looked at Toadpaw. What if it is the rogues, and they're waiting for us? What if they kill him, too?

    "I..." she swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut. Wishfern told her that, if in a panic, she needed to breathe. Deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. "Toadpaw, you'll be joining us on a patrol to the southern border," she explained, her tone stilted. She looked to Mistpaw this time, whose expression fell to one more serious. "Pinestar and Salmonskip think they found the rogue scent. They need me to identify it."

    Toadpaw sat taller, the fur along his spine rippling. "I'll go," he said confidently. "When do we leave?"

    "Any minute now." Silverpaw's eyes flashed to the leader's den, where the leader and deputy still resided. "I-I'm scared," she whimpered. "I don't want to go."

    "You'll be okay," Mistpaw promised. She stepped forward, pressing her nose between Silverpaw's ears. "Do you think I could convince them to let me go, too?"

    Silverpaw shook her head. "One of you is enough."

    Deflated, Mistpaw nodded. Salmonskip exited the den alone and looked at the apprentices, his gaze questioning. Silverpaw nodded stiffly, and he dipped his head, padding off to the warrior's den. When he exited, Crowspots and Honeywhisker were at his tail. The group padded towards the camp entrance.

    Silverpaw glanced at Toadpaw, her ears flat. "Are you ready?"

    Toadpaw nodded. "Of course."

    "Stay safe," Mistpaw mewed, her ears folded. "You both better make it back okay."

    Silverpaw smiled, but offered no words of reassurance. After all, these were likely the cats who killed Owlpaw. If they could kill him, who knows what'll happen to us if they strike? She pushed the thought down and joined the warriors at the camp entrance.

    Pinestar finally arrived, and the patrol left camp. The river was a few whisker-lengths higher than it usually was, thanks to the torrential rain from the previous day. The current was muddy and angry, but the crossing stones promised a safe passage to the other side.

    They quickly made ground across the territory, picking through the damp terrain until they reached one of the larger rivers in close proximity to the Muddy Shallows. Here, the earth squished underpaw, little rivulets of water seeping from their weight. Water roared along the riverbank, higher than usual and frothing with mud. The air was musky and tasted of dirt—contrary to the typical freshness of rolling water.

    "Toadpaw, Silverpaw," Crowspots addressed the two younger cats, "swim together when you cross. The current is powerful today."

    Nodding, Silverpaw tucked close to Toadpaw's side, watching keenly as Pinestar and Salmonskip glided through the river together. They crawled onto the opposing bank, a few tail-lengths further downstream, their pelts riddled with mud. Honeywhisker, being a powerful swimmer, followed on his own. Once he reached the other side, Crowspots gestured for Toadpaw and Silverpaw to take their turn.

    Sucking in a lungful of breath, Silverpaw plunged into the river—but to her astonishment, Toadpaw stayed behind. Panic floundered in her chest as the current nearly swept her off her feet, and she cried out, "Toadpaw, come on!"

    Alarm flashed in the tom's green eyes, and he dove into the water on her weaker flank, his side firmly pressed against hers. She glanced over at him; the tom was trembling. "Sorry," he whispered. She simply responded with a grunt.

    Her paws clacked against pebbles and stones, and she struggled to keep her balance as the current pulled powerfully at her fur. Becoming too difficult to find a foothold, she pushed off the bank and let the river take her.

    The roiling current sucked the two apprentices downstream. Silverpaw strongly kicked her paws, struggling to keep her head above the surface past the water's whitecaps. Beside her, she could feel the power of Toadpaw's churning feet.

    They swam for what felt like agonizing moons until the tips of her toes brushed against solid ground. The two paddled for a few more tail-lengths until they could stand, crawling past the reeds to meet the safety of the riverbank.

    Silverpaw nearly collapsed with relief. "Thank StarClan!" She gasped, shaking out her pelt and sending mud spraying all around.

    Toadpaw snorted and gave her a gentle swat on the shoulder. She glanced over. The fear she had been so certain of on his face was gone now, and instead, he bore a teasing scowl. Mud had splattered across his white muzzle.

    "Whoops," she chuckled breathlessly.

    Toadpaw rolled his eyes in amusement and scooped up a pawful of mud. Silverpaw ducked, but not before the goop landed splat against her shoulder. "You fleat-pelt!" She exclaimed, lunging at her friend and tackling him to the ground.

    Toadpaw kicked at her stomach, but she held firmly with her forepaws, and the two went rolling through the reeds until Silverpaw twisted her paws to successfully pin the tom. He growled lightheartedly up at her, a grin dancing across his expression, his green eyes shining with mirth.

    "Have you forgotten what we're here for?" Honeywhisker growled.

    Silverpaw swiftly backed away, her ears pinned flat as she remembered their mission. "Sorry."

    Her heart was pounding in her ears, but thanks to the moment of respite, her anxiety had slightly dwindled. Honeywhisker looked away from the two, and in that moment, Silverpaw took the chance to send Toadpaw a grateful smile. His lip twitched in response.

    Pinestar's eyes, past the darkness within them, shimmered faintly in amusement, but he offered no comment. Instead, he turned his eyes back to the river where Crowspots was crawling out, wheezing for breath. Her fur was ragged and weighed down with mud. Her entire body was drenched, her ears and whiskers dripping and caked, as if she'd disappeared under the surface.

    "Are you all right?" Salmonskip asked, guiding the warrior up the riverbank.

    Crowspots dismissively shook out her pelt. "Of course I am," she retorted. "You don't need to watch me like an elder. I may be old, but I'm yet to retire." She bared her teeth.

    Salmonskip shied away, his eyes soft with warmth and concern.

    "Well, let's get moving! What are you all waiting for?" Crowspots thrust past the group and trudged further into the trees.

    The patrol pushed onward, edging nearer and nearer to the outskirts of the territory. Silverpaw's paws prickled uneasily. They were close to where she'd first discovered the scents of the rogues who killed Owlpaw.

    Toadpaw remained close to Silverpaw's side. As if he'd noticed her growing fear, he twined his tail around hers. She flinched, blinking at him.

    "You'll be safe with me," the tom promised.

    Silverpaw's mouth bobbed, a confliction of emotions stirring in her chest. "Thanks."

    He simply nodded in response.

    "We're here," Pinestar announced. "Silverpaw, could you please sniff this?" The leader indicated towards an area of trampled underbrush.

    Silverpaw felt as though her legs had turned to stone. She tried to sniff the air from where she stood, but the humidity cloaked whatever it was she was meant to smell. Her body low to the ground, she forced herself to move. Her mouth hung open, allowing the scents to bathe her tongue.

    The smell of wet grass greeted her, then the sap from a scarred birch, and then the scentline. Her eyes darted to a small pile of bones, maggots crawling over them and eating whatever hadn't been picked clean by crows. The sound of her pounding heart gradually increased in volume until it was all she heard.

    She was barely past the boundary when finally, the stench assaulted her nostrils, painfully familiar and bringing her back to the night of horrors. She froze, her hackles rising and her throat tightening. Owlpaw's face flashed before her eyes. Blood sprayed everywhere, agony scored along her body, and the maniacal cackles of rogues thundered in her ears alongside flashes of lightning.

    "Silverpaw! Silverpaw, snap out of it!"

    Warm fur pressed against her flank, and a violent shaking yanked her from her trance. She blinked vigorously; the blurriness of her eyes faded slightly, her mind still spinning as she refocused on the world around her.

    "I-It's them," she choked out, stumbling. Her body crashed against another. Her head snapped around. Toadpaw. His green eyes were wide. Otherwise, his body language was calm, soothing, and his tail stroked along her spine. "It's the rogues. The ones who killed Owlpaw." Saying the words out loud was nauseating, and she had to scrape together all of her courage to keep her voice steady.

    Pinestar and Salmonskip exchanged glances. "There's six of us," Pinestar muttered.

    "I don't think Silverpaw could bear it."

    Pinestar glanced at the silver tabby, conflict in his eyes. "I think she'll have to. This is more important than one apprentice's feelings. And if I'm right..."

    "But if you aren't?" Salmonskip's tail flicked anxiously.

    The leader hesitated. "I will be."

    Sighing, Salmonskip looked at the patrol. "We'll be following the scent to see where it goes."

    Silverpaw's eyes stretched wide.

    "No!" Toadpaw protested. The high-ranks glanced at him. "At least don't make Silverpaw go," he insisted. "Please."

    "She's the most familiar with their scent," Salmonskip coaxed. "Besides, it isn't safe for anybody to be on their own."

    "I can stay with her," the black apprentice argued.

    Crowspots fixed him with a glare. "I taught you better than to disobey your leader. What Pinestar says goes."

    "But..."

    Feebly pushing down her fear, Silverpaw nudged the tom. "It... It'll be okay," she croaked.

    Toadpaw's tail sagged. "If you say so. I'll be right by your side, all right?"

    Silverpaw nodded. "Thank you."

    With that settled, Pinestar and Salmonskip took the lead, padding beyond the border. Silverpaw stayed close to Toadpaw's side, fear pulsing through her veins. The scent seemed to surround her, closing in on her with claws and savagery.

    Toadpaw tightened his tail around hers, and she took a shuddering breath, studying him from the corner of her eye. His head was high and his ears were flat. He glimpsed around, on full alert, his shoulder fur ruffled.

    Then, the scent vanished.

    Silverpaw glanced around wildly, but the entire patrol had pulled to a stop. "I-Is it gone?" She stammered.

    "It is..." Honeywhisker circled around, trying to rediscover the trail, while Crowspots wheeled in the opposite direction.

    Pinestar breathed deeply. "Nothing?"

    There were responding mutters, dissatisfaction staining every warrior's tone.

    "It's just as I suspected," Pinestar's frown deepened. "What's troubling is, even though we attempted to trace their scents, and they are quite potent as you pointed out, they appear to have just vanished. I can't smell any overpowering herbs, either, and it doesn't fade gradually, like it should if it were washed out by the rain. It's as if they disappeared into thin air."

    Silverpaw's heart thundered in her ears. "Their scents just disappeared? You're saying that they hid it somehow?"

    Her mind whirled. If the rogues were capable of disguising their scent... did that mean that they'd left it on purpose the night of Owlpaw's death? But how could they have known they'd be followed? Her head throbbed as she tried to understand.

    "That's exactly what I'm saying." Pinestar shook his head idly. "That's all we needed to do. Thank you all, we may return."

    "Thank you especially, Silverpaw," Salmonskip added gently.

    Silverpaw grimaced, her insides twisting. "I'd say it was no trouble, but... I didn't have much of a choice."

    The deputy didn't answer, too busy with his own thoughts as he stared bleakly into the woods.