Dawn

She lifted her head and looked around. Watery sunlight filtered in through the hole in the wall, though it did nothing to lift the chill from her fur. In the weak dawn light she could see the tabby she-cat in the den next to her more clearly. The stranger was soft and well groomed, and Leafpaw was conscious of her own matted pelt as she stared at her. She was definitely a kittypet, plump and soft-muscled beneath her tabby pelt.

“Are you all right?” asked the kittypet, her eyes wide with worry. “You sounded as if you were in pain.”

“I was dreaming,” Leafpaw replied hoarsely. Her voice felt strange, as if she hadn’t spoken for several days, and as she spoke memories of her nightmare came flooding back: images of water-swollen rivers scarlet with blood—and great birds swooping out of the sky with thorn-sharp claws. For a heartbeat, Leafpaw saw Feathertail hidden in darkness and then swathed in starlight, and without understanding why, her paws trembled.

Outside a Twoleg monster roared into wakefulness, bringing her back to the wooden nest and the den that pressed around her.

“You don’t look well,” the kittypet commented. “Try eating some breakfast. There’s some in the corner of your cage.”

Cage? Leafpaw wondered at the strange word. “Is that what this den is called?” The kittypet was nodding through the web that separated the two “cages” toward a half-empty holder of stinking pellets.

Leafpaw looked at the Twoleg food in disgust. “I’m not eating that!”

“Then at least sit up and give yourself a wash,” the kittypet urged. “You’ve been hunched up like a wounded mouse since the workfolk brought you here.”

Leafpaw twitched her shoulders but didn’t move.

“They didn’t hurt you when they caught you, did they?” the kittypet asked. There was concern in her voice.

“No,” Leafpaw mumbled.

“Then get up and wash yourself,” she went on more briskly.

“You’re no use to yourself or any cat moping around like that.”

Leafpaw did not want to get up and wash herself. The web floor scratched against her paws, and blood oozed from beneath one of her claws. Her eyes stung with the filthy air that filtered into the nest, fouled by the monsters outside.

And StarClan had sent no comfort to ease the desperate fear that gripped her heart.

“Get up!” repeated the kittypet, more firmly this time.

Leafpaw twisted her head around to glare at her, but the kittypet held her gaze.

“We’re going to find some way to escape,” she mewed.

“Unless you get up, stretch your muscles, and have something to eat and drink, you’re going to be left behind. And I’m not leaving any cat here if I can help it!”

Leafpaw blinked. “Do you know a way out of here?”

“Not yet,” admitted the kittypet. “But you might be able to help me find one if only you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Leafpaw knew she was right. She wouldn’t solve anything by curling up and waiting to die. Besides, she wasn’t ready to join StarClan. She was an apprentice medicine cat—her Clan needed her here, in the forest. Whatever was left of it.

Pushing away the misery that had sapped her strength, she pulled herself up onto her paws. Her cramped muscles screamed in protest as she uncurled her tail and flexed her legs.

“That’s better,” purred the kittypet. “Now turn around.

There’s more room to stretch if you face the other way.”

Leafpaw obediently wriggled around and reached her paws to the corner of the cage, gripping the web to brace herself. As she stretched, pressing her chest down and flexing her shoulders, she felt her stiff muscles soften. Feeling a little better, she began to wash herself, swiping her tongue over her flank.

The kittypet huddled closer to the mesh and watched her with bright blue eyes. “I’m Cody,” she meowed. “What are you called?”

“Leafpaw.”

“Leafpaw?” echoed Cody. “What an odd name.” She shrugged and carried on. “Well, bad luck on getting caught, Leafpaw. Did you lose your collar too? I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pulled mine off—the wretched thing! I thought I was so clever managing to wriggle out of it, but if I’d still been wearing it, the workfolk would have taken me home instead of bringing me here.” She tucked in her chin and licked an unkempt clump of fur on her chest. “My housefolk are going to be mad with worry. If I’m not in by midnight they start rushing around the garden shaking the pellet pot and calling for me. It’s nice that they care, but I can look after myself.”

Leafpaw couldn’t help letting out a purr of amusement. “A kittypet, look after itself? If it weren’t for the food the Twolegs give you, you’d starve!”

“Twolegs?”

“Sorry.” Leafpaw corrected herself for the kittypet’s benefit. “Housefolk.”

“Well, where do you get your food from?” asked Cody.

“I hunt for it.”

“I caught a mouse once…” Cody meowed defensively.

“I catch all my food,” Leafpaw retorted. For a moment, she forgot she was trapped in a stifling cage, and saw only the green forest rustling with the tiny sounds of prey. “And I catch enough for the elders, too.”