Larkpaw reached the other bank and shook the drops from her spotted pelt. Luckily the river was shallow enough that she didn't have to swim, but the water had reached her chin.

Just as Larkpaw was about to set out to find Fernpool's scent trail again, she suddenly realised that it wouldn't work because her scent was camouflaged by the water.

What kind of mousedung situation have I got myself into? Larkpaw cursed under her breath. Furious at her own stupidity, she wanted to hit herself.

Never in her life would Fernpool have crossed the river. Larkpaw looked to the other bank. It was very likely that she had stayed on the other side and Larkpaw had simply been too stupid and had misunderstood her tracks.

Completely exhausted, Larkpaw sat down under a bush that at least gave her some shade from the scorching sun. That's the disadvantage of having mostly black and thick fur. At least I won't freeze during Leaf-bare, I guess.

A movement in the distance caught Larkpaw's attention. She squinted her green-blue eyes and recognised about three cats running along the bank of the river.

Did they belong to RoseClan? Larkpaw wished she could get closer, but she doubted she could catch up with them.

"Larkpaw! Up here!"

Surprised, Larkpaw turned her head upwards. Fernpool had stretched her head over the top edge of the cliff. "There's a path over there that you can climb up." The dark reddish-brown tabby she-cat pointed downstream with one paw.

Larkpaw blinked gratefully at her and did as she was told.

"I was worried," Fernpool meowed sternly as she led her apprentice back into the shelter of the trees. "You took far too long."

Larkpaw avoided her gaze, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she murmured. But a fire of anger and frustration was burning inside her. How was I supposed to know how long I should have taken? Do I look like I could hear your thoughts?

Fernpool wrinkled her muzzle disapprovingly. "Whatever. What did you notice on the way?"

Larkpaw quickly reported all her observations. When she had finished, she looked down at her white paws, anxious that she had disappointed Fernpool again.

"Good."

Surprised, Larkpaw jerked her head up. Good?, she would have liked to hiss. Good? Is that the best you can come up with? I was just a kit this morning. You can't seriously expect me to know everything about the territory!

Suddenly Larkpaw realised that she had bared her fangs in her eagerness and her fur was bristling. She hurriedly endeavoured to adopt a relaxed posture. She didn't want Fernpool to think she was being naughty.

"The Pineglade is the place where you learn to fight," Fernpool continued unperturbed. "You weren't wrong about that. And that rock you passed earlier - well, it used to be the place where medicine cats and leaders could make contact with StarClan before StarClan's Peninsula was discovered."

"A sacred place of its own?" Larkpaw asked excitedly, having forgotten her frustration for a moment.

Fernpool nodded in confirmation. "That's right. Each of the four Clans used to have a place where they spoke with StarClan."

For MoonClan, it has to be the Moonvalley. Larkpaw could only vaguely remember the night she had gone to the Moonvalley together with Leafkit.

"What did the cats used to call our StarClan place?" Larkpaw wanted to know.

Fernpool flicked her long, bushy tail. "I'll explain that to you on the way to the others," the warrior decided. "Sootfeather and Amberpaw are already waiting for you."

So Amberpaw was faster than me. Larkpaw did her best not to let it affect her. She didn't even know which way her littermate had to go. Perhaps she had simply been given an easier task. Nevertheless, Larkpaw felt a small pang of jealousy in her chest. There was no way she would allow Amberpaw to be better than her.

"The truth is," Fernpool began, "that the name of the rock has been forgotten."

For a moment, Larkpaw was so out of it that she was no longer aware of her surroundings and almost tripped over a rock.

Fernpool turned to her, probably because she had heard her startled mew. "Are you alright?"

Larkpaw shook her pelt, hot with embarrassment. "Yes, nothing's wrong," she confirmed, trying not to let her shame show. Mousedung - no, dung from every living creature in the forest, today everything that can go wrong really does go wrong!

"Well then." Fernpool turned round and trotted on. "When PrickleClan ruled the forest, they turned their backs on StarClan, so the rock lost not only its meaning but also its name."

Now Larkpaw no longer understood anything. PrickleClan? What kind of Clan is that supposed to be?

"You've probably heard of PrickleClan," Fernpool surmised.

Larkpaw swallowed uneasily. Did she have to? "No," she admitted meekly.

Fernpool stopped abruptly. "What, you never heard anything about our past in MoonClan?"

"Yes, of course!" Larkpaw contradicted hastily. "But no cat has mentioned anything about you renaming yourselves."

"The cats back then tarnished the name of RoseClan, not us!" Fernpool hissed irascibly. "Don't say 'you' when you're talking about PrickleClan. That's an insult to all RoseClan cats alive today."

Startled by Fernpool's angry tone, Larkpaw mumbled a choppy apology.

Calmer again, Fernpool continued, "It's thought that they renamed themselves PrickleClan because RoseClan sounded too soft and weak to them."

Interesting, Larkpaw thought. And I thought I wouldn't learn anything special today.

Then she spotted two familiar pelts on a hill. Larkpaw increased her speed and dashed towards them. "Amberpaw!" she meowed.

Amberpaw ran towards her, her tail high in the air.

"How was it with you?" Larkpaw enquired curiously and quickly described what she had seen.

When she had finished, pity glittered in Amberpaw's dark eyes. "That sounds difficult," she whispered. "I was above the River Ravine."

"Above the River Ravine?" Larkpaw flattened her ears anxiously. "Isn't that far too dangerous?" Now she slightly regretted having assumed that Amberpaw had been given an easier trail, because it looked like Sootfeather had been just as hard on her.

"It wasn't that bad," Amberpaw said. "The River Ravine is actually really great."

Larkpaw took a step back, confused. "How can you say that?" she gasped. "It's definitely not great! Cats have died there!

Startled, Amberpaw ruffled her fur. Larkpaw let go of her, almost trembling with anger. She hasn't changed a bit, she thought annoyed. How can she ever become anything if she can't even choose the right words? Oh, the River Ravine is so great! Oh, this life-threatening place is so great! Great, great, great! I wish she would pay for her stupidity one day. One day she really will say something wrong and then no cat will be able to take her seriously. It's hard to believe...

"Larkpaw! Where are your thoughts?"

Sootfeather stood right in front of her. "What's wrong with you?" she meowed with her head tilted. "We've been waiting for you all this time so we can get back to camp."

Larkpaw swallowed her anger and tried to keep a cheerful face. "I'm already coming."

But when she caught up with Fernpool and Amberpaw, her mood went straight back to where the roots grew. Amberpaw was dragging a squirrel with her that was almost half her size.

Her mouth open in astonishment and envy, Larkpaw was unable to say anything at first.

Fortunately, Sootfeather explained at that moment, "She caught it all by herself."

"All by herself?" Larkpaw repeated in a squeaky voice.

"I watched her do it," Sootfeather continued. "Amberpaw, and you've actually never had any hunting experience before?"

Amberpaw shook her head diffidently.

"Well, some things still need improvement," Sootfeather said, "but that was truly impressive. I've never heard of an apprentice catching prey on their first day, let alone a squirrel!"

Larkpaw tried to be happy for Amberpaw. She really tried, but the whole time she was trailing after the others with her tail hanging down, her thoughts raged in her head. If this goes on, Amberpaw will probably become the best hunter in the Clan, and then she will be adored by everyone. But what about me?

Larkpaw stopped thoughtfully in front of a small pond and looked at her reflection. She would never get used to this sight.

Sighing, she tore herself away and hurried to catch up.

They hadn't got very far when Amberpaw sniffed nervously and extremely extensively. Her soft fur slowly bristled. "Foreign cats," she breathed, her body rigid and her eyes wide.

Fernpool and Sootfeather immediately whirled around with their claws extended. "You're right," Sootfeather replied grimly. "And it looks like they're very close to us."

I don't recognise that smell.

"Go behind us," Fernpool ordered in a firm voice. "We don't know if these cats are hostile to us."

Larkpaw gave Amberpaw a worried look. She wasn't particularly keen on a fight on her very first day as an apprentice. Although, Fernpool certainly wouldn't let her fight. But what if they were outnumbered?

Suddenly, two cats emerged from the bushes in front of them. It was a ginger tom and a brown tabby she-cat, and though they looked ragged, wounded and tired, their amber eyes glowed fiercely.

"Stay away!" the she-cat growled. She still seemed to be very young, maybe the age of a newly appointed warrior, but due to her fluffed fur and arched back she appeared bigger. With her teeth bared, she reached out with one paw. "You won't be able to lay one clawtip on the kits!"

Sootfeather was the first to flatten her fur again. "Kits?" Her voice sounded worried.

The she-cat hissed again. "Come one step closer and I will rip your whiskers off!"

Larkpaw flinched. This cat was definitely hostile.

"Keep your fur down," Fernpool turned to the apprentices. "We don't need any more tension." Then she meowed, directed towards the strange cats, "There is no need to worry. We would never hurt kits."

However, the she-cat wasn't convinced, for she kept her posture. "You're lying!"

She pressed herself to the ground, ready to pounce. But the ginger tom rushed forward and put a paw on her back, preventing her from attacking the Clan cats. "Don't rush into a fight so easily, when Flutter hasn't still recovered from her injuries."

Slowly, the brown she-cat backed away and relaxed a bit, though her body was still tense.

"You are on our territory," Fernpool stated with a dry voice. "It's pitiful that you're in a troublesome situation, but you need to leave the forest now."

Larkpaw couldn't believe her ears. There were obviously kits and one of them must be injured. "Stop!" she yelped without thinking much about it. "Didn't you hear that there is an injured cat? They need our help!"

In this moment, she didn't care whether she was disrespectful. As an honourable cat she would never allow others to be denied help.

Fernpool sighed. "I guess it's better if Fruittail looks after those injuries. Where is this injured cat?"

"Follow us," the ginger tom ordered. "You're Clan cats, aren't you?"

Larkpaw nodded eagerly. "We're RoseClan." She had to show the loners that they had nothing to fear. "My name is Larkpaw and this is my sister Amberpaw. Today is the first day of our warrior training. And those are our mentors, Fernpool and Sootfeather."

A blow with Fernpool's tail against her head made Larkpaw flinch. "Usually the older cats do the talking in a situation like this," she reprimanded her.

When Fernpool turned forwards again, Larkpaw rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. What a burdock-covered, thorn-spiked, flea-infested, fallen-in-mouse-bile piece of crowfood of a cat!

They stopped in front of a tree whose sprawling roots formed a small cave. The brown tabby she-cat stuck her head through a small opening. "Flutter?" Her voice sounded muffled. "There are cats here who can help you."

Larkpaw noticed a strange, pungent scent, paired with the earthy one of a strange cat. She perked her ears. Flutter must really be hurt.

The bright red face of a she-cat emerged from the blackness of the tree hollow. "Aster, Fennel? Is that you?"

"Yes!" The brown tabby she-cat rushed forward. "I'll help you get out."

Sootfeather leant over to her Clanmates. "It seems she has a bad infection."

Fernpool snorted snidely. "I like it much less that there's another full-grown cat. If they attack us now, our chances of winning are slim."

"They certainly won't attack us," Sootfeather disagreed.

Larkpaw silently agreed and was annoyed at Fernpool's heartlessness at the same time. How could it be that she was so against helping a strange cat?

A fierce mew sounded from the den as Flutter slipped out. The kits. "Hush, I'll be right back with you," she murmured. "Where are-"

Her green eyes widened in shock and she jumped backwards, right in front of the entrance to the cave. Hissing wildly, she fluffed up her fur. "You led Clan cats to my kits?" she screeched shrilly. "Are you crazy?" She turned to the red tabby tom. "Explain that to me, Fennel! Do you want our kits to be killed by them?"

Fennel flattened his ears. "Please don't get so upset," he begged. "They said they would help us. And if they haven't done anything to us yet, I hope they won't now either."

No wonder Flutter is so upset!, Larkpaw thought, filled with worry. The rogue's body was covered in scratches and bites of varying depths. Her long fur was full of holes and the tips of both ears were missing. But the most shocking thing was a deep, reddened and swollen bite wound on her right shoulder, from which the smell of infection was wafting.

Larkpaw had to look away. "I haven't seen anything this bad since Heatherleap," she whispered to Amberpaw, who was looking at her paws the whole time.

"How did that happen?" Sootfeather wanted to know.

"A badger," Flutter croaked, exhausted but still in an attacking stance. "With cubs. We were looking for a new den, and we stumbled upon them by mistake."

"Please, you have to help her!" Aster pleaded. "The kits are still too small to lose their mother - and I couldn't bear to see them die either. After all, she's my mother too."

Fernpool stepped forward. "We'll take you to our camp," she meowed, "but it will be up to our high-ranking cats to decide if you're accepted."

Like the current of a stream, Larkpaw felt relief flow through her small body. She couldn't have imagined what would happen if Fernpool continued to behave so hostile.

Flutter stuck her head between the roots. "You can come out."

Three kits, eyes and ears already open but still very small, crawled mewing into the open. Upon seeing the new cats, they hide behind Flutter's legs and tilted their heads.

A ginger and white tom was the first to bravely crawl forward. "Nettle!" he squeaked. "Nettle! Nettle!"

Flutter cast the other cats an apologetic look. "They've recently learnt what their names are and now Nettle can't stop saying his name," she explained.

Following their littermate's example, the other two kits came forward as well. One of them was another tom with greyish-brown tabby fur and white legs, the other one was a light brown tabby she-cat whose tail was strangely coloured dark red.

"Look at that kit!" Larkpaw meowed a little bit too loud.

"She looks rather special, doesn't she?" Flutter purred. "Her name is Blossom and this one here is called Owl."

If they joined their Clan, their names would be Nettlekit, Blossomkit and Owlkit. The short names of clanless cats were a weird custom for Larkpaw, and the fact that they would keep the same name forever.

"Can someone take Nettle?" Fennel meowed, holding Blossom. Aster had taken Owl by the scruff of his neck. "I worry that it might be too tiresome for Flutter to carry him."

Amberpaw lifted Nettle, who stopped meowing his name, up and slowly the cats walked in the direction of the RoseClan camp.