Falconpaw's words sting me like fire; I'm not sure what I'm more confused about: how we'll die, or what Falconpaw said. The tabby is still whispering in my ear as we walk in pairs, following Talon. "I've seen her before. I'm almost a warrior, and I'm sure you're aware of how early they took us, right?" I give her a small nod. My mother told me of how early they were coming this year. Last year, she said, the picks were taken later on. Falconpaw continues, and I focus on her again. "Well, I saw some of last year's picks about a moon after they were taken. Talon was with them."