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“Cody takes hardly anything for herself,” Firestar pointed out. “And while she cares for Birchkit, the other cats have more time for hunting.”

Squirrelpaw glanced sympathetically at Sorreltail. She probably resented Cody more for taking up Leafpaw’s time than for being a kittypet. She picked up the mouse and carried it to where the elders were making the most of the frail warmth of sunhigh at the top of Sunningrocks.

Frostfur and Speckletail had their eyes closed, dozing.

Longtail, the blind tom who was no older than some of the warriors, sat up. “I smell mouse,” he mewed.

“It’s not very big, I’m afraid,” Squirrelpaw apologized.

“It’s fine,” Longtail assured her. He prodded the mouse with his paw, and the tip of his tail twitched excitedly when the little body shifted, as if the desire to hunt for himself had not dimmed.

Suddenly he lifted his head and opened his mouth to scent the air. “WindClan!” he exclaimed, more in surprise than alarm.

“What, here?” mewed Squirrelpaw, looking around. She didn’t think her father was expecting visitors.

At the foot of the rock, Tallstar was leading a small, bedraggled patrol out of the woods. The ThunderClan cats watched them climb slowly up to where Firestar waited. No cat challenged them. Tallstar’s step was so faltering, his frame so emaciated, that Squirrelpaw was amazed he had made it all the way here. The two warriors that accompanied him were in no better condition; Onewhisker and Tornear were so thin they looked like they were made of twigs and leaves, and Squirrelpaw half feared the breeze might blow them away.

Crowpaw was at the rear of the patrol, looking thinner than he had on the journey to the sun-drown-place, though he was not quite as scrawny as his companions. Squirrelpaw bounded down the slope to touch noses with him in greeting.

When she got closer, she saw that his eyes were as dull as his Clanmates’, and his fur was ungroomed.

“Crowpaw!” she exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m as fit as any of my Clan,” Crowpaw growled.

Tornear blinked at her. “Crowpaw has been hunting like a whole patrol on his own, finding prey to feed nearly all the Clan,” he reported.

Squirrelpaw pricked her ears.

“He even caught a hawk two sunrises ago,” Tornear went on. Even though starvation seemed to have robbed the WindClan warrior of all emotion, Squirrelpaw thought she detected a hint of pride in Tornear’s voice.

Crowpaw shrugged. “I used a trick the Tribe taught us.”

“Crowpaw!” Brambleclaw came bounding up the rock.

Squirrelpaw saw his eyes darken, and she guessed he was as shocked as she had been to find their friend so gaunt and life-less.

Tallstar’s voice distracted her. “Firestar, we have come to plead for ThunderClan’s help,” he rasped. As if the effort of speaking were too much, his legs buckled and he collapsed onto his side. Squirrelpaw started to go over to help him, but Brambleclaw held her back with a touch of his tail.

“The Twolegs have started to destroy the warrens where we have been sheltering,” Tallstar panted. “We cannot stay a moment longer on the moor, but we are too weak to travel alone. I don’t care that we haven’t had another sign. I just know we have to leave. Take us to this sun-drown-place, I beg you.”

Firestar looked down at Tallstar, and Squirrelpaw saw sorrow flash in his eyes. “We have been allies many times,” he murmured. “And to watch you starve is more than I can bear.”

He lifted his gaze and stared into the forest, and, as he did so, the brambles under the trees rustled and a pale bracken-colored shape exploded from the bushes.

Tawnypelt! The ShadowClan cat’s pelt bristled, and her eyes were wild with fear.

“The Twolegs are attacking our camp!” she yowled, her voice echoing over the rock. “They have surrounded us with their monsters! Please come!”

Firestar bounded down the slope ahead of the others.

Even Tallstar hauled himself to his paws and hurried toward the ShadowClan warrior.

“Please help us,” Tawnypelt cried to Firestar. “Help us for the sake of the ThunderClan blood that runs in my veins, if nothing else.”

Firestar brushed the tip of his tail across her mouth. “We will come for the sake of ShadowClan,” he told her gently.

“And for the sake of all the Clans in the forest.” He looked at his warriors. “Thornclaw, Mousefur, Sandstorm, you will each lead a patrol. We will take all those strong enough to fight.” Instantly the three warriors began weaving among the cats, issuing orders.

“What about defending the camp?” Dustpelt called.

“Defend it from what?” Firestar replied. “The only creatures that threaten us now are already attacking ShadowClan.”

“What about RiverClan?” Leafpaw’s quiet mew sounded from higher up the slope. She fell silent as the ThunderClan warriors turned to stare at her.

Squirrelpaw’s heart lurched. Her sister was right. With the camp undefended, Hawkfrost might persuade RiverClan to claim Sunningrocks for themselves.

But the warriors clearly misunderstood Leafpaw’s warning. “RiverClan won’t help us!” Mousefur spat.

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