Blackfeather Woods you must know life to see decay.

There was so much going on at once that Towhee couldn't be sure whether it was her efforts alone that pried her enemy off her neck or if someone(s) else had come to render aid. In any case, there were no longer teeth at her throat. Towhee was able to roll and climb to her feet. Every inhale ached and burned, not to mention the throbbing of her broken skin. But at least she was alive.

As she struggled to catch her breath and regain her bearings—was that Eljay?—something nailed her backside. Towhee yelped like a puppy smacked with a newspaper, spinning to face her attacker. But he was already disappearing back into the underbrush, a small smear of quicksilver that quickly vanished into the woods. The yearling bared her teeth and growled, though she quickly forgot about him as she turned to assess the scene.

As her orange eyes roved over the chaos, trying to decide where she was most needed, the group suddenly seemed to break into two pieces: the Redhawks versus the Blackfeathers. But instead of clashing again, the latter began to retreat into the forest. Although eager to chase after them and put them down, one by one, Towhee tensed her muscles and looked to Finley for instructions.