"Yes! That's it!" Snowflower praised. Dovesong purred happily. All of the Clan that was here- not in the Four Clans' territories- were learning how to spell! Jingles and Snowflower were very patient. None of them knew how to spell long words like 'malfunctional' or 'speleologically', but they knew how to spell stuff like 'attack', 'mouse', and 'Clans'. Dovesong and Shellheart were the quickest learners. Dawnstreak was having a hard time spelling things that had silent letters in them. The rest were okay spellers, only able to spell things like 'go', 'run', or 'now'. Dovesong and Shellheart were learning things off twoleg containers now, surpassing their teachers. They could spell sentences like 'There are two rogues on the border', or 'Get help quickly, please'. The Clan wanted to use the code, as they called spelling just for battle planning or emergencies.

           "You must reconsider your actions, Hawk..." Crowfeather said, a definite edge to his voice. The group of cats had arrived just yesterday after travelling for one and a half days. They'd introduced their Clan (Leafpool and Crowfeather) to ThunderClan and were allowed to stay the night. Crowfeather was a bit stiff about meeting his former Clan in the morning to face the Tribe of the Sharp Talons of an Owl. He had few friends left there, but Ashfoot, Onestar, and a couple others were very glad to see him. ThunderClan was kind to them but most of them looked at them suspiciously and sometimes hostilely. Squirrelflight was overjoyed to see her sister and was even happier to hear about Leafpool's second litter. She and Brambleclaw had forgiven eachother, but weren't mates anymore- just friends. Hawk sighed and jerked his head up. "No." his snappy voice easily aggravated the cats and some hoped that Crowfeather and Brambleclaw, the question-askers, would stop asking him things. Onestar and Firestar chatted quietly about the problems in the forest, sometimes putting in a small comment on Hawk's word and barely asking questions. Hawk cleared his throat and a cat from WindClan groaned, "Oh no, is he going to give another speech?" Onestar scolded the cat lightly, not truly meaning it, for he had been thinking the exact same thing, and was sure Firestar was too- and that was the reason he had -politely- not voiced these thoughts but simply pressed his ears flat against Sandstorm's shoulder so he wouldn't have to listen, and that the gesture was not only out of affection. "Anyway," Hawk began, "I'll give you today and tomorrow to decide if you will sacrifice the forest part of your Clans' territories, move everbody out, or die. Please know I will any of these, but will be least happy with the 'die' choice as I just hate violence." His voice was like a sadistic, whiny sneer, crossed with claws on slate. It was unbearable. The tom practically used his voice as a weapon- causing slight ear damage and a need to never see, hear or look at him ever again. He opened his mouth in a sort of a grin- in a sick, dangerous kind of a way. The dark tabby's teeth were sharp and shiny, like he cleaned them every day. Which he did.