Cold, dry wind breezes through the fur on your pelt as your trot alongside the edge of the gorge. Bright rays of light are cast down by the morning sun and into the depths of the water, briefly seen, but eventually disappearing. They don't reach the bottom. How deep is it, you wonder? Only Starclan knows. You were out on a border patrol—no sign of any trespassers so far. You eventually reach the edge of your territory, where the plains stretch out past the barn and off to the hills beyond the horizon. You walk along the fences of the barn. No dogs, yet. They must still be inside. Maybe it's too cold for them to come out? It is getting closer to leaf-bare, after all. Only about a moon to go—your clan still needs to prepare. You finish up with the patrol and head back to the camp, finding Marigoldstep and Foxtrot by the fresh kill pile. They, along with Bearthroat and Mousepaw, seem to have caught a good amount of prey on their hunting patrol. You head over to them, and Marigold smiles at you as you near.