Featherstar had an apparent change of mind, as she sought the console of not only StarClan and her council but of her fellow leaders from LakeClan and GhostClan, although Miststar (or perhaps it was Mistwhisper, no cat would ever know), was reluctant and suspicious of the messenger that Featherstar had sent to inform him of the leaving patrol. He had indeed felt anger at the thought of ReedClan cats on his territory, but didn’t argue, the patrol would leave with cats from all of the Clans, two or three from each, by the end of next gathering.
Turtlepatch had found himself blinking his green eyes in both delight and terror at being one of the cats chosen for ReedClan, as he would face many dangers heading toward the eastern pine forest. He hoped that the other cats from the remaining Clans would be loyal to their mission, yet not endanger another cat on the patrol for the sake of their own Clan, though Turtlepatch had felt the lack of compassion himself for the other Clans, so what if another Clan lost a warrior, it really meant one less mouth to feed!
But then he shook his head, would he feel that way toward his own Clan on the journey? Surely not! For he had come on the patrol in his loyalty, not selfishness.
His angering thoughts faded as he spotted Oneriver, quickly he padded over, “Hey Oneriver!” Turtlepatch called to his Clanmate, who looked up with a batch of leaves in his jaws, a sweet fragrant scent clinging to them. Oneriver set the leaves down, “Is there something you need,” he meowed then paused, “how’s Brownwinter?” He asked, casting a swift glance toward the nursery, where Milkbliss was playing moss-ball with Thistlekit. Turtlepatch dipped his head. “No, and Brownwinter’s fine.” He meowed quickly, then noticed the nervous look in Oneriver’s gaze. “What is it?” He asked slowly.
“You can’t go!” Oneriver blurted, “The prophecy fortells of it!”