It was the coldest leaf-bare many মার্জার could remember. The lake turned to ice, trapping frosted reeds and cutting of Lakeclan warriors from the মাছ and the water voles. Prey on land was very scarce. With New-leaf came the relentless drip-drip of melting ice. মার্জার grumbled about soggy ground and puddle in camp. But the worst was yet to come. A young warrior Sweetshine, her round belly swollen with her unborn kits, was on night watch. She listened to the roar of the river on the other side of the border. It had been louder than usual for three days. The sun would be rising soon, and then she...
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