Lost Creek Hollow star-sight

Shadowpaw returned, a dried flowering plant of periwinkle gingerly clutched in her jaws.

Her meager body was thin and travel-worn, but the sight of Lost Creek Hollow rejuvenated her.

Except... something was wrong. Her clan was not here.

Their scent was old, the forest overgrown.

Something terrible must've happened, Shadowpaw wagered, to force Riverclan from their sacred Moonpool.

She sat by the babbling brook and collected her thoughts.