It wasn't too long before Briar noticed the scent of cats drifting in the breeze. The pale tom dropped his prey and scented the air, his tail twitching with curiosity. A Boulderclan patrol. It had to be. During a previous visit, his sister had warned him against crossing the territories in fear of a confrontation with such patrol. "I won't be able to protect you this time," his sister cautioned.

[I]And I won't need you to, [/I]Briar quietly replied in his mind. He was a full-grown cat. He had survived vicious dogs and harsh winters. He could take care of himself.

The young tom shrugged and turned away from the dead bird. The patrol would hopefully take it. It was still fresh, and Briar was careful not to tear it apart too much. A sort of gift. Briar went on his way, not caring if he ran into the Boulderclan cats or the consequences that would entail.
[hr]
Pride blossomed through the apprentice's chest at Nightmist's praise. Ripplepaw gave an obedient nod and crouched, watching her mentor at a distance. With a starting pounce, the silver she-cat lunged towards her mentor. Her claws were sheathed, as requested, yet Ripplepaw hesitated for a heartbeat before swiping at Nightmist. Training or not, it still felt odd to be attacking someone who the apprentice held much respect for.
[hr]
Ravenfeather dipped her head at the cats' offers. "Any help would be much appreciated." [I]Starclan knows that it will take the whole camp to find that runaway. [/I]The queen cared deeply for her son. After all, he was the sole survivor of her litter and a reminder of her beloved mate's sacrifice. But if only he didn't get into so much trouble.

Ravenfeather raised her head in surprise at Leopardkit's voice. The young cat lay on a ledge above, camouflaged against the rock. No wonder the queen hadn't seen her. "Thank you." Ravenfeather nodded in thanks. "I just hope he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble."
[hr]
Owlkit was in trouble. 

He hadn't really meant to walk so far. Perhaps just to border to check out if the stories were true, then back again to the den before his mother woke. It didn't occur to him how far the Oakclan border was, or where exactly it was. Until now, that is.

The black kit padded through the underbrush, his large eyes wide as he looked around the forest. His small paws were already aching, and the rocks rubbed uncomfortably against his still soft pink pads. Owlkit barely noticed the mountainous terrain replaced by more and more trees, or the foreign scent as he unknowingly crossed the border.
[hr]
Sunflame's smile vanished at Sharpthorn's worse. He flinched at the verbal reminder if his past, but said nothing to challenge the intimidating tom. How could he? Sunflame stood for peace, not war. The most fighting he'd ever done was when he tried to fight a crow for scraps, and even then that had questionable results. [I]All the more reason to keep trying, [/I]he silently told himself. But even that bit of self-encouragement seemed deprived of energy.

Sunflame turned to Oakstar, his joking energy gone. "We're ready when you are."