Ravenstrike laid on the outskirts of the dip that separated RushClan from the forest. His ears were perked as he listened to Dust speak.
  "Just another moon and RushClan will be saved from Heatherbreeze's leadership!" The brown tom was yowling, earning many yowls of agreement.
  Ravenstrike stayed silent.
  "Next moon, we will attack the camp. Thanks to Ravenstrike, who has given the whereabouts to make it easier for us."
  Chants rose in the air for the black tom, and he held his head a little higher, happy that so many cats were praising him instead of judging his every movement. The black tom's tail flicked to his side, bushed in his happiness.

~~~

  Ravenstrike entered camp, a plump hare in his jaws. He couldn't see Dewfang around anywhere, or much of any cat in the camp. He could only see one or two in the clearing, muttering to each other in low tones. Confusion spread across the black tom's face. The RushClan warrior padded over to where he could see Dewwren alone.
  "What's going on?"
  "Heatherbreeze and her patrol caught the scent of rouges on the border with the forest.
  Ravenstrike's heart sank.
'The Dust Whips! The Clan knows... I have to tell them today when I get there!'
  "Rouges always pass by and through here, why is this time so different?" The black tom asked, trying to sound casual.
  "They said it seemed like there were a lot and they seemed to be staying. I don't see the problem, but Heatherbreeze looked very frightened."
  More confusion spread into Ravenstrike's yellow eyes. Heatherbreeze? Scared? She should be, he reasoned, but she didn't know the full power of the group, only that they were at the edge of the territory.
'So why is she so scared?'