“Staghopper,” Wolfhowl meowed from her den, noticing the cream-and-white she-cat with stumps for back legs resting near their den. The sun could be seen just over the trees, washing the camp in its warm light. “Can you help me collect herbs?”
     Staghopper held herself up, nodding immediately. “Of course!” she meowed eagerly, waiting patiently while Wolfhowl quickly groomed herself. The two mollies padded out of the camp side by side. Once in the forest, they split up, Wolfhowl meowing,
     “We need tansy. Collect as much as you can and meet back her later.” The two cats set off in opposite directions, their ears perked and eyes focused on the plants at their feet. Wolfhowl opened her jaws to taste for the sweet-smelling herb, but instead was overwhelmed by a strong copper-scent. She reeled backwards, gagging. She screwed up her nose, immediately recognizing the smell. Blood. Her short, classic-tabby brown and gray tail flicked in worry as she padded slowly onward. The scent only grew stronger as she made her way forward, until she spotted what looked like a dead rabbit. She drew closer, and yowled in horror, realizing what she thought was a rabbit was, in reality, a cat. “Rabbitfoot!” she gasped, staring at the dead molly, whose body was covered with scratches and face was still twisted in a hopeless expression of pain and fear. Staghopper clambered to Wolfhowl’s side, gasping herself when she spotted Rabbitfoot’s body.
     “Those wounds look fresh,” Staghopper whispered, her golden eyes wide with worry. “So that means-“
     “She just died, moments ago,” Wolfhowl finished, closing her eyes tightly as a wave of grief washed over her. She shook her head and opened her eyes, leaning down to pick up Rabbitfoot’s body. Staghopper and Wolfhowl worked their way back to camp, afraid of what the Clan would have to say about another death.
     The two cats were about halfway to their camp when they ran into Dogwind, Fogwhisper, and Crowmoon. Dogwind stepped forward immediately to examine Rabbitfoot’s body. The deputy’s soft cream fur rippled in the slight wind, and her yellow-orange eyes were glossy with grief. The five cats were silent, unknowing what to say. Finally, Fogwhisper spoke up, his teal eyes glancing uncertainly from cat to cat.
     “We just patrolled the entire territory. Everything was normal, and we didn’t pick up traces of an outsider.”
     “What does that mean though?” Staghopper meowed thoughtfully.
     “W-we don’t know.” Crowmoon’s black ears could be seen flicking uncomfortably.
     Wolfhowl couldn’t help but think the worst of the situation. What does this mean for our Clan? One of our own was killed, how will everyone react? And could I have stopped this? If I had only found Rabbitfoot’s body earlier, we wouldn’t be in this situation! Is this, in that way, my fault?