Badgerfur grunted in his sleep, rolling over and flicking small amounts of bracken onto his denmates, who no doubt would have asked him most politely to stop, except for the fact that they too, where as asleep as Badgerfur. Or they where, until an eager nose poked its way into one of the occupant's flank, at once awaking the unlucky cat from what must have been a pleasantly uneventful night's rest.
"Oh, go away and bury your head in mouse bile," came a grunt from one end of the furry pile as the warrior awoken by her overly enthusiastic apprentice began to arouse the others.
Badgerfur got up, and, like every other day, shook the moss—that had maneuvered its way from his nest to his fur—off. Yawning widely, he followed the other cats out of the warriors den, to stand blinking like a drowsy kit in the early morning sun.
All around him, other cats where padding, jostling, and bantering with one another as his Clan awoke and treated itself to just another day of Clan life.
Little pinpricks pawed at Badgerfur's pelt as he tried to remember the dream he had been having. He knew it must've bothered him, for his fur was sticking up in odd angles. However, the memory evaded him, and he pushed the matter out of his mind, bringing his warriors duties back into the front.
Automatically, Badgerfur's paws took him to the fresh-kill pile, as though they had heard the signal his belly sent to his mind to say that he was hungry and had better eat something before going out on patrol or hunting.
Delicately selecting a thrush whose spots had attacked his eye to its feathers in a lackluster state, he carried it off to a quiet rock where he proceeded to eat it.
A thin tortoiseshell approached him as he picked the remains of the bird's meat off its bones, and gave a rough meow.
Starting, he looked up, very aware that there where feathers sticking out of his sharp teeth.
"Patrol, this morning," the deputy meowed, a purr playing of her words, rolling around and frolicking by Badgerfur's ears. Bright sparks danced from her eyes, and her pelt seemed to catch every ripple of light the shafts of light that filtered down from the tall trees around him. Clumsily aware off exactly not what he should do, Badgerfur nodded, eyes still on the ground.
"Humph." With a flick of her tail, the deputy padded away, towards where two other cats where waiting.
"Dappledleaf?"
"Yes?" Dappledleaf turned back around, and surveyed him curiously, as though she was doing more than simply looking at him.
"Want to go hunting after patrol? Just you—and me?" Badgerfur stammered, immediately feeling quite surprised afterwards. All he could recall was that he had made up his mind in his sleep to do what he had been meaning to do for a long while, for if he didn't, it wouldn't matter in the least, but it would very much if he did.
Feeling very befuddled, as though some mouse-brained Medicine Cat's apprentice had stuffed his head full of thistledown, he joined the rest of the patrol waiting for him by the bramble tunnel out of camp.
They padded nonchalantly out of camp and into the forest that awaited them, following a small stream that bubbled and gurgled, giving little hiccupping jolts as it flowed, as though it knew than it was in part the only thing that prevented the cats that lived beyond it from tearing Badgerfur's Clan to shreds whenever they felt like it.
Badgerfur did his best to appear cool and contained, all the while keeping one eye on Dappledleaf as she confidently led the patrol through its route by ShadowClan's borders, renewing their scent markers and checking to ensure that the Clan was not up to its usual misdemeanors that could lead into a multi-Clan bloodbath.
At one point, some foolhardy mouse ran through a patch of clover behind Badgerfur, but he had been so intent on watching Dappledleaf watch him that he bumbled, and the mouse made a lucky dash to freedom, only to be pinned and quickly killed by Browntail a moment later. Browntail flashed Badgerfur a scathing look as he buried the mouse for later, making sure to give Dappledleaf a sidelong smirk that seemed to last longer than necessary.
Falling back into place as the patrol picked up again, Badgerfur felt a little flash of annoyance at Browntail. Somehow, however, it did not seem too important, and yet very important indeed. Maybe he'd box Browntail's ears off later in pension. It seemed the sort of thing.
Normally, Badgerfur would never even consider such an action, but today was different. He'd already taken a step forward this morning with Dappledleaf. Maybe this would help complete himself to her.
The patrol broke into a run as it followed the stream, and then the Thunderpath. Today, the roaring and stench of monsters seemed to disappear as the joy of the wind—no matter how smelly—slapped Badgerfur. The wind tugged at his fur, and forced a rush of happiness into his blood as he ran with the patrol. Badgerfur loved the wind as much as he loathed badgers and mouse bile and ShadowClan.
Little did Badgerfur know, however that today, the wind might not love him quite as much as he thought it did.
The patrol was quite uneventful, and Badgerfur returned to camp with little more to show for himself than a few more embarrassing escapes that all seemed to happen in front of Dappledleaf.
Between pondering this and how he was going to mess up when he went hunting with Dappledleaf later, Badgerfur wondered about his dream. Its seemed urgent that he remembered.
But it was no good. The most he gleaned out of an afternoon of thought was that he had been in some sort of danger and that he had not been alone. That StarClan had warned him of something. Or had they? It was all so blurred and confused, and besides, Dappledleaf was approaching and asking him if he still wished to go hunting with her.
Pleased that she had remembered his request, Badgerfur walked next to her, nearly glowing as the sun began to fade into the horizon, and the Sunhigh patrol passed them exiting the brambles again.
Flank by flank, they padded contentedly another way, opposite the stream. The wind was good again, and Badgerfur blissfully allowed it to caress him, and the cat that walked beside him.
They where nearing the Sunningrocks when he remembered the rest of his dream, and the impact of it seemed to cause the dirt underneath his paws to open up and swallow him whole.
Oh yes, StarClan had been warning him off something! What was it that the she-cat with the blue-grey fur had said, so urgently? "Beware of badgers, you are going to die." You are going to die . . . you are going to die. "Death is imminent apon you, Badgerfur. So if you have any loose ends you'd like to tie up, any mice you'd care to hunt do so."
"But why?" Badgerfur had protested. "I don't want to die, is there anyway to avoid it? You are StarClan."
But then the dream had ended, and Badgerfur hadn't remembered it. But now he did.
"Badgerfur, are you coming or not?" Dappledleaf called crossly.
"Um, right," Badgerfur mumbled. He didn't want to die, but the dream was so vivid now. He saw himself . . .
Badgerfur was walking past Sunningrocks, over to the beautiful warrior that awaited him.
Badgerfur stumbled less than gracefully to Dappledleaf, who looked a little miffed at him having stopped quite so suddenly and ignoring her.
The two cats padded briskly by the river, every so often swooping into the reeds to make a catch.
Badgerfur emerged from a tangle of watermint, a dead vole dangling from his quivering jaws. Dappledleaf congratulated him, and presented him with a sparrow she had caught.
A bird burst from the plants behind Badgerfur and Dappledleaf, screaming.
A sparrow exploded from the bushes, shrieking in alarm, and behind it, lumbered a badger, sniffing and starring around blearily.
Badgerfur stood very still with Dappledleaf, hardly daring to breath. The wind didn't seem to know where it was blowing, and was still. If the badger didn't catch their scent, and just walked away . . .
Beware of badgers . . . your death is eminent . . .
But why would Bluestar tell him this? "Maybe she wanted you to experience your full potential before you snuffed it, " thought Badgerfur numbly, frozen in fear.
The wind gave a little sigh, and rushed past Badgerfur and Dappledleaf, trailing their scent right to the badger, to turned around to star right at them.
"Run!" shouted Badgerfur, and he and Dappledleaf took off, and badger lumbering not far behind.
Fates cruel joke. First the wind, and now Badgerfur was going to be killed by a badger.
They dashed onto a muddy plain and immediately fell right over into the mud. The badger slid right up to them, roaring, its beady eyes ravenous with spit flying from its mouth. It lunged, not at Badgerfur, but Dappledleaf.
Badgerfur saw this in slow motion, and recalled his dream. He had asked if there was another way. There was. Dappledleaf would be killed, and he, Badgerfur, would escape. But could he do that?
He saw all this in a split second. With an earsplitting yowl, he careened into Dappledleaf, pushing her away from the gaping, hungry jaws, just in time to feel pain rip through is fur, and bones splinter under the badger's muzzle.
"Very good, Badgerfur."
It was Bluestar. The full moon shone brightly into Fourtrees, and he stood surrounded by an endless about of cats. Bluestar was standing in front of him.
"You could've have saved her, and lived," continued the ThunderClan leader. "But you didn't."
"I-I couldn't have watched her die," croaked Badgerfur. "And if she died, and Rippedclaw became deputy . . ."
"ThunderClan could be finished," Bluestar completed his thought for him. "You did well, even with my warning."
"This was a test!" cried Badgerfur in shock. For once, he couldn't believe his own ears. "My death was a test?!"
"No, not your death, you mouse-brained fool," meowed Bluestar tartly. "Your life."
Badgerfur helped himself to a plump vole that was sitting on the top of the fresh-kill pile, before moving away for the other warriors.
He hind right leg dragged just below the hip, hanging at an odd angle, scuffing up dirt and leaving a trait behind.
"He doesn't even hunt! Why should he get prey? That badger would have done well to finish him off!" spat Rippedclaw as Badgerfur shuffled past on his way back to the Medicine Cat's den, where he had slept for more than a fortnight since the badger's attack. Settling back into the nest that Badgerfur had now become quite accustomed to as he healed, Badgerfur was pleased to see Dappledleaf snarl something at Rippleclaw, glancing up at Badgerfur and giving him a sympathetic look.
"Any other dreams foretelling some cat's death?" asked Cinderpelt, padding up to him and dropping a poppy seed, which Badgerfur regretfully lapped up.
"No," meowed Badgerfur honestly.
"That's alright, your not so special," meowed Cinderpelt rashly, though humor spiked her tongue. "Although surviving that badger attack was fairly lucky for a furball like yourself. And snagging our beautiful deputy. Dappledleaf is supposed to be off limits, you know."
"I know."
"Then you'd do well to remember it. In the meantime, do your leg stretches."
"Why?" meowed Badgerfur as he moved into the first painfully position of the beginning stretch that he was to do if he wanted to regain use of his leg. "Listening to the rules didn't help me last time."