Badgerfur was a little worse for the wear. He had, of course, survived a rather vicious badger attack, been tricked by StarClan, and landed a place as enemy No. 1 with Rippedclaw. But he had seen nothing yet.
However, Badgerfur was not currently thinking about that. Or how lucky he was to still be on all four legs. No, he was thinking about how that damn wind had betrayed him. Stupid huh? Yeah.
He was trotting briskly along with the dawn patrol, as they followed the stream west of their camp, across the RiverClan border, away from their camp and the lake that all of the Clan's territories where set around.
The cool, crisp morning air slapped gently at his face, while his mind teemed with garbled angry thoughts directed at it. Stupid breeze had nearly cost both his and the beautiful Dappledleaf's lives.
"Badgerfur!" a voice snapped from the top of the patrol. Badgerfur looked up sheepishly. The patrol had stopped in a clearing of trees. Nearby, he heard the bubbling of a stream. They where getting closer to the RiverClan border and the Thunderpath.
"Yes, Leafheart?" Badgerfur asked meekly, looking up into the sharp gaze of the warrior leading the patrol. Leafheart had once been deputy, but during a battle with ShadowClan, where she had been defending their camp, she had been clawed over the steep ends of the disused quarry that ThunderClan's camp was located in, and onto the rocks below. She should have died, but had miraculously survived, with but a bad limp to show where her leg had been nearly crushed.
But while she hovered between life and death, Dappledleaf had become deputy, and Leafheart eventually resumed place as a warrior. And Badgerfur had developed a huge crush on Dappledleaf, even though she was as off-limits as any ShadowClan queen.
Leafheart's eyes hadn't lost their commanding stare, which she flashed now at Badgerfur.
"I was just saying, we need to make our way up the Thunderpath and stream. At the last gathering, Leopardstar threatened about taking back the stream. We need to make sure they haven't gotten any ideas."
"Right," mumbled Badgerfur. His pelt itched.
"Are you okay, Badgerfur?" asked Shadowheart, peering at him. The black tom looked concerned, as did his mate, Icestorm, who stood next to him, bright blue eyes worried.
"Yeah," Badgerfur meowed.
"I told you you shouldn't go," fretted Icestorm. Her thin white tail twitched as it snaked around Shadowhearts, who nuzzled her, his dark black fur contrasting Icestorm's pure white coat greatly.
"If he said he was okay, he's okay," meowed Leafheart testily, piercing steel blue stare sweeping over the patrol. Leafheart's apprentice, Bluepaw, shuffled next to her as she watched her mentor snap at the other warriors.
She turned around, and with a flick of her tail, Leafheart led the patrol off again. Badgerfur walked in silence, trying to ignore Icestorm's frequent glances, and tried to mull things over in his mind.
His mind found Dappledleaf, and he imagined them together, maybe hunting, just the two of them. Without a monstrous badger this time. They'd go somewhere else, where they could just forget the world.
He could almost feel her hot breath, and the warm, sweet scent that seemed to follow the deputy wherever she went. He imagined himself drawing closer to her, and she not moving away, but extending towards him, wanting him . . . but no, that couldn't be.
Dappledleaf's deputy, he told himself sternly. The more you think about it, the harder it will be. You can't have her. Just stop it.
Wanting to distract himself as he followed the patrol further, he cast his mind out of something else. This time it was Leafheart who it landed on.
Poor Leafheart. Badgerfur looked up at Leafheart's back, watching her limp sorely, plumed tail held high. They way she looked at them, talked to them, you'd think she was still deputy.
But she should still be deputy, Badgerfur knew. Everyone knows it. And no one knows more than her.
There was a loud yowl from the bushes on their right. The patrol scattered, and out stepped two RiverClan warriors, and an apprentice.
Badgerfur noticed at once all three cast looked oddly ill. Their pelts, usually shiny from all the fish they ate, where dull, and their fur hung limply on their scrawny forms. But their eyes glittered, and the apprentice spat at the sight of the ThunderClan cats.
"Leafheart," sneered one of the warriors, who's pelt was dark grey. "Your still up and about, are you? And here I thought you where defeated by your own camp." He smiled smugly.
"Greytooth," meowed Leafheart calmly. "I would have thought that Blackclaw trained you better than that. I can only imagine what you are teaching this young scrap." She looked at the apprentice, who gazed back in either fear or hate, it was hard to tell.
"I can see you haven't taught him to hunt," she continued. "Maybe you need to brush up on your skills as well."
She was right. The RiverClan warriors where skinny. That wasn't right, considering that it was the middle of newleaf.
Greytooth and the other warrior bristled.
"I hope you listened to what Leopardstar said at the Gathering," he snapped. "Because this river is ours and you know it."
"I hope you heard what Bramblestar said," retorted Leafheart. "We haven't caught anything in it but weeds with a small few exceptions, we just use it to torment you lot. Now get out of my sight."
With a snarl, the RiverClan warriors and apprentice slunk away back into the bulrushes. Leafheart turned to go, then noticed that Bluepaw was not next to her. The apprentice was standing stock still, very close to some dense brushes.
"What is it?" Leafheart asked impatiently.
"Bear," squeaked Bluepaw, and then crumpled in a heap on the ground as the long, lethal claws that had impaled her thrust back out of her chest and onto the ground.
—to be continued—