Clouds dotted the azure sky, like sheep in a never-ending field of blue waves- so peaceful and innocent. Willowsky was trying her best to remember those travel herbs. Leafpool saw her confused state and reminded her of the one she had missed- chamomile. She helped her friend wrap the herbs in beech leaves to give to the warriors. Leafpool ate hers then and there, gagging at first. "Gaah!" Blackstride yelped, spitting half of the bundle out. "Whats in that thing? Dark Forest leaves? Ugh..." Willowsky's mouth curled in amusement. "Daisy leaf, burnet, ragweed, chamomile, and sorrel!" She gave the tom a bit of heather nectar to help sweeten the terrible bitterness of the leaves. The eight cats left quickly, leaving Birchheart, the new FireClan deputy in charge of the camp. He sighed worriedly. "Shellheart! Please gather up two cats to take on a hunting patrol! Check out the prey near the dirt road and those big bushes where it comes near the edge of the forest again! We have not hunted there in a very, very long time." His voice sounded nervous, but he didn't hesitate with his words once.

**********ONE HOUR LATER**********

"Get off!" Yowled a distressed voice. Birchheart's pulse quickened. Great, the young tom thought unhappily. Drama. That's just what I need right now! My leader is gone, as well as Leafpool and Crowfeather... And... And... "Birchheart!" Shrieked Dovesong angrily. "We found this crow-heart in our territory! He was eating a vole from our territory!" Birchheart could not help but feel a bit relieved. At least there was not an enemy attack or something of the sort. Birchheart had come from his den to see the trespasser, and what he saw almost blocked the sunshine. The intruder was a massive, fluffy, black cat. The ball of fluff wore a dirty white leather collar. The name 'Jingles' was stamped into it. There were two tags, one small and heart-shaped, one like an icosahedron. "Uhh... Hello, there," the fluff-thing mewed innocently. Birchheart snarled a little. The kittypet let out a tiny whimper. "I hear my warriors caught you stealing prey inside of our territory?" He asked sternly. The black tom's eyes misted. "I'm sorry! Mommy never told me about you! I'm sorry! I can pay you back! I have catnip and toys, and feather, and-" Dovesong glared at him. "Shut. Up. You're giving me a darned head-ache, kittypet." Birchheart hissed, "Be polite, Dovesong." Dovesong looked irate. Her eyes held embarassment, anger, and shock. The fluffy kittypet gazed at the Clan cats with fear and admiration. I'm sorry, he thought. I didn't know! Birchheart took pity on him and changed the subject momentarily. "How old are you?" He said curiously. "Five months exactly, tomorrow!. My Mommy calls them moons. Daddy says months. I-" "Yes, yes, you say months." Birchheart cut him off hurriedly. What kind of a mother would let her kit wander the forests alone? "Where is your mother now?" He said softly.