'We have to find her!' A golden she-cat was arguing with a creamy brown tom in a large stone hollow, on a cave-bearing ledge on top of a huge pile of fallen stones. 'We can't, Goldenhare. Even ForestClan's finest trackers lost her scent at the Thunderpath. You know as well as I do that the Twoleg stench covers all scents,' the brown tom replied, sadness clear in his gaze. 'She was my apprentice, Molestar!' Goldenhare's eyes were locked furiously on Molestar's. 'No. The fault was mine,' Molestar corrected her. 'She would have stayed had I told her I was her father.'