What in StarClan's name is that thing?

Larkpaw stood with widened eyes in front of a huge, long, overgrown object in the camp's centre. It reminded her vaguely of a hollow tree trunk or a tunnel, except that it was above ground and the entrance seemed to be at the front of the side. It also had long outgrowths in the centre on both sides, making the object look like an abnormally large bird.

It was the first time Larkpaw had really taken a good look at it. In the last few days she had spent her time in the medicine cat's den and even on the way to the dirt place she had hardly noticed its presence.

It really does look like it fell from the sky. Suspiciously, Larkpaw stuck her muzzle out and sniffed at it. It seemed to be made of a hard material, which was quite different from stone, for it was far smoother and under the dirt it glowed an unusual white colour.

"What do you think you're doing?"

With quick steps, Brindlepaw hurried to her. "The nursery and the elders' den are in there."

Larkpaw could only suppress an excessive rolling of her eyes with difficulty. Of course, she had already been able to tell by the scent. "Can't I have a look around?" she snapped. "You don't see something like this every day."

"That may be so," Brindlepaw objected, still with a stiff posture. "But if you dare harm a hair in their furs, you'll be punished for it, I'll see to that."

Stunned, Larkpaw opened her mouth. "Don't exaggerate like that!" she protested.

At that moment, a grey and cream she-cat emerged from inside. "Leave it alone, Brindlepaw," she meowed tiredly. "I'm sure she has no bad intentions."

Snarling and with bared fangs, Brindlepaw backed away. "I'll watch your every move," she threatened before trotting off.

Larkpaw avoided looking after her. She didn't deserve that anyway.

"I hope she doesn't cause you any problems," the she-cat meowed and twitched her whiskers. "It may be hard to believe, but Brindlepaw is actually quite tolerable. The only problem is that she's very protective."

Brindlepaw... nice? Never. Nevertheless, she nodded. "I don't want any trouble. I just want to get back to my Clan."

Suddenly, three small heads appeared in the opening to the den. "Who are you talking to, Creekheart?" a red tabby tom inquired. Both he and the brown tabby she-cat and the brown-red spotted she-cat next to him seemed to be kits — older ones, though, whose apprentice ceremony shouldn't be far off.

The she-cat turned to them and made a few movements with her ears and tail that were strung together so quickly that Larkpaw seriously wondered how the cats could understand it. I've already forgotten the ones Hollytail taught me!

"I think it's stupid that we can't talk," the brown-red she-kit complained and threw herself to the ground, meowing theatrically.

Creekheart's fur bristled. She gave the impression that she was embarrassed by her behaviour, because she pushed the brown-red she-cat back onto her paws in a rude-looking way. "And how do you say it in the right way?" she asked in a calm voice, although the tip of her tail twitched.

The small she-cat's face hardened and Larkpaw almost feared she would talk back again. Instead, she stomped her paw once, opened her mouth and shook her head violently.

Creekheart purred contentedly before turning back to Larkpaw. "I'm sorry for the incident. Those are my kits who just don't want to understand that they have to learn not to communicate with words all the time."

"Why is that anyway?" Larkpaw blurted out without thinking.

She briefly feared that, as a Clan stranger, she had no right to question them about such things. Fortunately, though, Creekheart didn't seem the least bit annoyed. On the contrary: she seemed to be happy about Larkpaw's curiosity.

"You know," she meowed, "our ancestors used to believe that any kind of noise would trigger avalanches, so they started communicating only through body language. Today, however, we are sure that this cannot happen. But we still hold on to the old traditions."

What the cream and grey she-cat said made Larkpaw involuntarily sad. Somehow it seemed to her as if every Clan had a special characteristic. SnowClan had developed its own communication system. In MoonClan there was the Night of Honour and Remembrance, so that deceased Clanmates would not be forgotten. Even LaurelClan was something special with its own-grown medicinal plants. And we have nothing. Nothing that sets us apart from the others.

"Is something the matter? You seem so lost in thought."

Startled by the sudden question, Larkpaw flinched. "No, no, everything's fine," she rattled off hastily.

But the oppressive feeling remained. Any bet that we once had something special to show for ourselves, but with the transformation into PrickleClan, the knowledge about it has been lost.

"If you say so." Creekheart twitched her ears and then motioned for her three kits to leave.

"What are their names anyway?" Larkpaw inquired curiously after they had disappeared from her sight.

In response, Creekheart gave her a confused look. "They won't get their names for a few days. Haven't you been taught that?"

Larkpaw shook her head in astonishment. At the same time, she had the strange feeling of being able to remember something, but only dark and hazy, impossible to grasp.

"Our kits are allowed to choose their own names," Creekheart continued. ‘That may seem strange to you other Clans, but it's one of our traditions too, and nothing will stop us from continuing to practise it.’

With pride, Creekheart puffed herself up, and Larkpaw realised once again how small and insignificant she felt next to her.

SnowClan cats are so different. So... strange. I get the impression that they live in their own bubble and the other Clans live in the real world around them.

"Larkpaw."

At the mention of her name, she whirled around. Specklestar glided towards her, exceptionally graceful and light-footed for her size.

Frightened, Larkpaw froze. Her thoughts whirled around in her head like leaves. How should I behave? Can I look at her? Do I have to bow my head? Should I ask how she is? And how should I phrase this without her thinking I'm being rude? Being in close proximity to a leader from another Clan made her nervous.

But then Specklestar had arrived beside her. Inside, Larkpaw shrank to the size of a berry.

When she saw Creekheart tilt her head slightly, she automatically followed her example. While she was still wondering what Specklestar wanted, the leader motioned Larkpaw to come with her.

Larkpaw glanced helplessly at Creekheart, but she just shrugged her shoulders unsuspectingly. All right, then. Larkpaw took a deep breath. Maybe I'll finally find out when I can go back.

Specklestar led the young she-cat to a secluded part of the camp, far away from the dens. Larkpaw waited with a pounding heart for her to say something.

For a moment, Specklestar stood there without a word, her eyes half closed, so that Larkpaw almost feared she wasn't feeling well.

But then Specklestar settled down. "I can see that you're restless," she meowed.

Larkpaw bit her tongue. Is it that obvious? Suddenly her legs felt stiff and she had the urge to jump around to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

"You want to go back to your Clan, don't you?" Specklestar continued. Her tone sounded harsh, almost as if she was judging Larkpaw for this wish.

What was she getting at? Why wouldn't I want to go back? "Please." Larkpaw barely managed more than a croak. In a louder, clearer voice, she added, "I'm sure my Clanmates are worried about me. They might even think I'm dead!"

The thought alone made her panic. She didn't even want to imagine how her Clanmates must have felt when they realised she was gone. She thought of Amberpaw and tensed up. There was no way she was going to let her littermate think she was dead.

For a moment, it seemed as if Specklestar's amber eyes shone with understanding. But then the illusion vanished as quickly as the memory of a dream.

"You'll be back home soon. Well, provided that RoseClan gives us part of their territory in return"

The words hit Larkpaw like a blow. Suddenly her mouth felt dry as sand as she tried to understand what she had just heard.

Is she... is she trying to use me to weaken RoseClan? Larkpaw's fur bristled involuntarily. "Never!" she hissed angrily. "You won't get away with this. Don't you have enough territory already?" There were more words burning on her tongue that she wanted to hurl at the orange and white she-cat. Just too bad that Specklestar was much higher up in the hierarchy than she was.

Specklestar narrowed her eyes. A frosty, nightmarish aura seemed to emanate from her as she stretched her muzzle forward and came so close with her face that Larkpaw could see the dark speckles in her irises. "You're pretty cheeky for a little apprentice," she growled. "With the cold leaf change coming, I'll have to make sure my Clan has enough prey to catch."

"I don't understand," Larkpaw breathed, frightened. "Can't you expand your territory to the Foreign Lands? There—"

"That won't be enough!" Specklestar's wildly lashing tail whirled up the pine needles lying on the ground. "Once there's snow here, it'll be almost impossible to catch anything. That's why we need as much land as possible."

But that's no reason for you to take away another Clan's territory! Larkpaw refrained from saying anything. It wouldn't change Specklestar's opinion anyway.

Still, she wished she could understand her reasoning. Apart from a few rogues and loners, no territorial cats lived in the Foreign Lands, and it was incredibly large. So it would be easy for SnowClan to expand their territory there.

Larkpaw's fur prickled. There had to be a reason why Specklestar had decided to take territory away from RoseClan — and Larkpaw would do everything in her power to make sure her Clanmates didn't suffer the consequences.

We will always take back what is rightfully ours.