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"Of course I know what I witnessed! Do you think I would make something like that up just for fun?"
Without meaning to, the volume of Larkwing's voice had soared. The tips of her ears hot with embarrassment, she bit her tongue and quickly looked around the camp. A few cats eyed her, some curious, some disapproving. Luckily for her, no one made a move to come over.
There was an unmistakable gleam of shock in Lakepelt's eyes. "I just can't quite comprehend it all," the dark grey tabby tom whispered, clawing tensely at the ground with his white front paws. "Does that mean Shadowless have the possibility to die after all?"
"I doubt it was a normal death," Larkwing interjected. "It happened so suddenly and for no apparent reason—"
"And then there was the unknown black liquid," Lakepelt finished her sentence. With his ears flattened, he examined Larkwing closely. "That could have turned out very differently for you. You're really lucky they weren't interested in you this time."
His words evoked a cold shudder. Shivering, Larkwing pulled her paws under her body. We really did escape death by a whisker's breadth.
But something else Lakepelt had said made Larkwing remember another thing. "As for the liquid," she meowed, "Fruittail didn't say a word about it in MoonClan."
Lakepelt raised his head in surprise. "She didn't? Even though it could be an important insight?"
"I wish I knew," Larkwing sighed truthfully. "Maybe she didn't say anything because she was afraid we wouldn't be believed. Think about it." Her tone became more eager. "How could we realistically explain this phenomenon? This was the first time we've ever observed something like this in a Shadowless. To be honest, I didn't think you would believe me so easily."
In disbelief, Lakepelt shook his head in disbelief. His tail lashed across the ground. "Of course I believe you!"
Hearing this relieved Larkwing. She had realised that she could trust her best friend. Nevertheless, she had been worried at first that he might label her a liar.
Then she noticed how Lakepelt's gaze wandered to the side for a heartbeat. Immediately he bristled his fur, his long, sharp claws unsheathed.
It didn't take long for Larkwing to find the reason for his sudden hostility. Rainsplash! By now, the name of the grey and white speckled she-cat sounded like a curse. Even though Larkwing had nothing to do with her, she knew very well that Rainsplash was a she-cat full of hatred directed at her kits.
I wonder if Lakepelt knows that I was watching them when it turned out that after Reedclaw, Rainsplash wanted him dead too.
"Tell me, is everything alright?" Larkwing inquired cautiously nonetheless.
Slowly and somewhat uncertainly, as if she had just torn him from a deep dream, Lakepelt turned round again. "It's nothing—" he wanted to defend himself, but Larkwing glared at him so hard with her bi-coloured green-blue eyes that he finally had to give in. "It's Rainsplash. Apparently she saw how Elderpelt and I have... well, you know what I mean."
