Falconpaw woke up, yawning, and he got up. He padded out the dirtplace tunnel, went, and came back through the tunnel. Rain spattered down, making the camp muddy. Falconpaw padded in, shaking as an orange leaf fell between his ears. Leaf fall was fully here, and RiverClan was in a grim mood. A thick mantle of guilt had fallen on Falconpaw, he felt all churned up like the land that used to be SkyClan's. He was worried about the fifth Clan, the death of Blizzardpaw, Batpaw's misery and hopelessness, the loss of Sunningrocks, and most of all, Nightfire.
"Falconpaw," Emberwhisker meowed as he came out. "Would you mind hunting? The elders and kits are hungry."

He was slinking back out of camp to hunt for the dwindling fresh kill pile, when a cat came in front of him. He bared his teeth, thinking immediately of Nightfire.

But it was not.
It was his mother. _

"Falconpaw," she meowed urgently, not seeing the shock on her son's face, "I came to tell you that you must-"
"Falconpaw!" A voice yowled. He turned to see Waterpaw and Batpaw. When he looked back she was gone.

"My mentor told me to come hunt," she growled grumpily. "And Cricketpaw told me to get some dumb berry."

"Why so down?" he queried. "Normally you're like a bright, annoying little furball-"
"Who are you calling furball?" she interrupted, eyeing his pelt, which was much thicker. "Anyway- I was in this great dream, but then Floodpelt poked me awake and I had to come out in this stupid rain."

Almost on cue, a fat raindrop rolled off a leaf and splattered her nose. She rolled her eyes and trudged past him. "Cricketpaw wants some supplies," she pawed at a small bundle of leaves with a goo seeping from them, "And I only need a berry- it starts with j."

"Juniper?" guessed Falconpaw.

"I guess so- do you know what it looks like?"
"Er- not really. But how many berries are there? We'll find it."
He delicately padded over the marshiest areas, eyes scouting for berries. He saw a dark leaved shrub with bright scarlet clusters, and waved his tail to Waterpaw.
"Juniper, do you think?"
"Erm... I guess?"

Falconpaw grasped a cluster with his teeth and tugged. He felt the scarlet berries break off, and he stumbled back, gagging as one split and the juice and pulp rolled down his tongue.
Suddenly, a starburst of agony hit him, radiating out over him. He fell to the ground, jaws agape in a silent scream; his stomach felt like it was in flames...

He blacked out.

What was he? Did he exist? Could he see or hear?
Upon opening them, he discovered he had eyes. He knew his name and where he came from... but mostly, that was all. A sprawling forest stretched of him, twinkling and inviting. He started to pad toward it, and then halted. Behind him he saw a large looming forest. The bark on the trees was very dark. It looked black and devoid of any light or warmth.
Black moss draped the limbs of the trees, and he saw eyes glittering.

A sluggish river bordered where his paws lay and that beyond. He tentatively prodded the water, curling his lip with disgust at the oily like water.

He felt an urge to go to the starry forest. It was almost...magnetic.

He started to walk, his paws moving of their own accord. But he paused at the treeline when a cat, gray and well framed blocked his path.
"Who are you? Get out of the way." He mewed irritably.
"It is not time for you to come here." He said, gently nudging Falconpaw's shoulder.

As the cold nose touched his fur, feeling lanced down his spine, and he
Woke.

He was in a large, reed woven den. The moment his eyes fluttered open, he felt a paw prey open his jaws, and something cool and bitter placed in his throat.

"Chew." A rough mew told him. He saw Streamsong bent over him. He chewed, swallowed. His body convulsed and he vomited, hazily seeing red in the sick.

His stomach churned, and he coughed hard, feeling weak and trembly.
"Look." Streamsong rolled the plump scarlet berries branch, eyes hard. "Never, ever touch these again. Two would kill you- and only two! You accidently swallowed part of one, and it made you very ill."

A small brown face peered over her. "Why did you eat them?" Cricketpaw inquired worriedly.
"We thought they were juniper..." he murmured.
A silver muzzle poked in, trembling. "Can I come in?"

It was Waterpaw. "Only for a bit, he needs to rest!" Streamsong growled.

(Yes. I am aware she sounds like Madam Pomfrey from HP. ;))

"I'm so sorry, Falconpaw... I... I really thought those were juniper!" her voice was strange, like she was about to burst into tears.
~And to note- I know cats can't cry!

"It's fine." He mumbled, sleep pressing on his eyes. Waterpaw blinked at him once more, but the warm grip of sleep had caught him, and he spiraled out of the den into sleep.

*yawns with exhaustion* Anyone think Falcon should have a ceremony in... say, the next two-three chaps? Give me honest answers- if you think it's too soon, I won't bite ;)