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Sol padded across to a sunny patch of ground and sat down with his tail curled around his front paws. His amber eyes glowed in the golden light. He clearly had no intention of hunting for himself.

Hollyleaf headed into the undergrowth. The scents were strong, and she soon caught a mouse and a thrush. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to stop early, she thought as she kicked earth over her fresh-kill. It’s warmer now, so the prey is out and about.

When she had added another mouse to her catch she hurried back to the clearing to find that her Clanmates were already building a fresh-kill pile near the pool.

Birchfall dragged up a huge rabbit, his tail raised proudly. “There are more over there.” He gestured with his tail. “We’ll eat well tonight.”

Dropping a mouse and the thrush onto the pile, Hollyleaf took the other mouse over to Purdy and prodded him awake.

The old tabby gave a startled snort, looking around wildly. “What is it? Foxes? Let me get at ’em!”

“It’s okay, Purdy.” Hollyleaf rested her tail on his shoulder. “I brought you a mouse.”

Purdy blinked. “That’s right good of you.” He began devouring the mouse in famished gulps, then stopped and moved back awkwardly. “Here—you have some, too.”

“No, it’s for you,” Hollyleaf mewed. How long has it been since Purdy had a decent meal? “There’s plenty more.”

When all the cats had eaten—Brambleclaw made sure Sol was given a share of the catch—they settled down to sleep among the trees. By now the sun had gone and twilight was gathering. A cold breeze clattered the bare branches.

Hollyleaf noticed that Purdy was shivering. She beckoned Hazeltail over with a wave of her tail. “Purdy really can’t look after himself,” she murmured into her Clanmate’s ear. “Let’s sleep beside him and keep him warm.”

“Okay,” Hazeltail mewed, though she looked doubtful. “I hope he hasn’t got fleas.”

I’m sure he’s got fleas, Hollyleaf thought, as she and Hazeltail clawed together a heap of dry leaves to make a nest. And ticks. We’ll have to give him a good going-over with mouse bile before we let him go anywhere near Mousefur!

When Hollyleaf woke, it was still dark. She could just make out the trace of bare branches against the sky, but stars still glittered overhead. Purdy was snoring louder than ever, and Hazeltail was curled up beside him with her tail wrapped over her ears.

Hollyleaf knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Very quietly, so as not to disturb any cat, she rose to her paws and peered around, blinking to clear her bleary eyes. Brambleclaw, Brackenfur, and Birchfall had all made nests close together on the other side of the pool. All three of them were sleeping peacefully; Birchfall’s tail twitched as if he was dreaming.

Three cats…not four…Sol’s gone! Hollyleaf swept her gaze around the clearing, but there was no sign of the distinctive tortoiseshell-and-white pelt. Tasting the air, she picked up his scent; it was still fresh, but faint.

Hollyleaf’s first impulse was to wake Brambleclaw. But some inner command sent her paws in the other direction, following the wispy thread of Sol’s scent. She padded as silently as she could through the trees, flinching as her paws crunched in the brittle leaves. She soon began to hear the sound of running water. It grew louder until she came to a spot where the trees thinned out a little, and the ground fell away to where a stream gurgled along over stones. Sol was sitting at the top of the slope, his back to her, his gaze fixed on the paling stars.

“Do you still think they hold all the answers, Hollyleaf?” he asked without turning his head.

Every hair on Hollyleaf’s pelt rose, until she realized that she was standing upwind of the stream and Sol must have scented her approach. “I…I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Now Sol turned to her, his amber eyes blinking sympathetically. “Why is that?”

Hollyleaf sighed. “Everything was so much easier when I could trust what other cats said.” Even as she spoke, she couldn’t believe she was telling this to any cat. She hadn’t even shared her doubts with her littermates.

“You must learn to trust yourself, Hollyleaf,” Sol meowed, in the deep, rich voice that seemed to inspire confidence. “Only you know what is right.”

“I get so confused sometimes.” Hollyleaf’s voice shook. “I don’t want to have to decide everything on my own.”

“It gets easier, little one.” Sol rose to his paws. “Come on, let’s go back to the others.”

Hollyleaf’s belly churned as she followed Sol back to the clearing. He almost destroyed ShadowClan! Every cat thinks he killed Ashfur! So why do I feel that I can trust him with my life?

When they reached the clearing, the rest of the patrol were stirring. Brambleclaw looked up from grooming his pelt, a surprised expression in his amber eyes. But all he said was, “I wondered where you’d got to,” as he padded over to check on Purdy.

The old tabby heaved himself out of his nest. “I’m fit as a squirrel,” he insisted, shaking dead leaves from his back. “No need for you youngsters to be fussin’.”

After they had finished up the previous night’s fresh-kill, the cats set out again. Passing the place where she had met Sol, Hollyleaf realized they were coming to the edge of the woods. Soon they stood beneath the forest’s outermost trees, gazing across fields dotted with gray-white puffs that Hollyleaf realized were sheep.

“I don’t like this,” Purdy grumbled as they crossed the fields, giving the sheep a suspicious glance. “What are them creatures, anyway?”

“Sheep, Purdy,” Hollyleaf replied, padding beside him. “Didn’t they have any on that farm where we met you last time?”

Purdy sniffed. “Never seen ’em before.” He jumped, fur fluffing up, as one of the sheep ambled away from the others and trotted closer to the cats. “Quick—run!”

“It’s okay,” Hollyleaf mewed; the sheep halted and began to crop a new patch of grass. “They’re not taking any notice of us.”

“There’s too much…space around here,” Purdy complained, flattening himself to the ground. “No trees. No Upwalkers—Twolegs, you call ’em.”

“You mean you want Twolegs?” Hollyleaf’s exasperation spilled over like rain from a leaf. “That won’t do if you’re going to live in ThunderClan.”

“Hey, take it easy.” Lionblaze veered over and rested his tail on Purdy’s shoulders for a heartbeat. “Purdy can’t help not being a Clan cat.”

Nor can we! Hollyleaf almost flashed the words back at her brother, but stopped herself in time. How long before one of us gives away the secret?

With a massive effort she made herself relax. “I know. Sorry, Purdy.”

By sunhigh, Hollyleaf could see that the old cat was tiring again, and soon Brambleclaw called a halt in the shelter of some trees surrounded by gorse bushes. Purdy collapsed on his side, breathing hard. Sol padded away a few paw steps and sat down, peering out over the field.

“Hey, look at this!” Hazeltail was sniffing at a clump of something that looked like thistledown stuck on one of the gorse bushes. “What is it?”

Hollyleaf padded up to look. Birchfall followed curiously. “It smells of sheep,” Hollyleaf meowed. Glancing around, she spotted more of the clumps on other bushes. “Their pelts must get snagged on the thorns when they brush past.”

“It’s very soft.” Hazeltail tugged at the clump with her teeth and came away with a mouthful of it. “I’m going to take some back for the nursery.”