• Disclaimer: I do not own warriors. I just own Fern and Sparrow. Bunbun454(My friend) owns Ginger.

    Fern woke to the sun scorching his fur and a heavy thumping in his head. When he stood to stretch, every part of his body ached. It was days like this he just wanted everyone to go away. He decided that catching some prey would make him feel better. A flash of red caught his attention, and the squirrel was dead in a few seconds. Fern ate it where it died, savoring every bite to distract him from his constant pain.

    He licked the fur, noticing that it had recently shed its winter coat. Then he went on to the meat; bloody, but meaty, hinting that food was plenty for squirrels this green-leaf. Too soon was the prey gone. The few remaining scraps left were licked off the tiny bones.

    A blur of familiar fur blew past Fern, blowing away the remains of his prey. He turned to watch the tortoiseshell she-cat try and fail to skid to a halt. Ginger ended up in some brambles. The gray took this moment to sheath his claws, so as to not scare her. Although, he didn't want Ginger around... Maybe a scare will make her go away... She rushed back to where Fern was, covered in brambles, looking eager to tell him something.

    Just as Ginger opened her mouth to say something, Fern interrupted in a much harsher tone then he meant.

    “Leave me alone. I don’t want to hear any of your fox dung.”

    Ginger just blinked and meowed; “Have you ever been to the wondrous, most beautiful, ever-powering moo-“

    Fern cut her off saying; “Stop! Stop talking to me! I have always hated when you talk! To me about all the stupid little things in your mouse-brained life! I don’t care about your life! I don’t care about you! So just leave me alone before I rip you to shreds!” He was now standing; fur bristled and blue eyes sharp with anger. He let his grip on his claws relax.

    Ginger took a step back, “Hey, if you really want to be a grumpy old loner, who is without friends, then fine! I was considering leaving to find my kin, but I guess you have set my mind straight! I will leave this forest so you can have it all to yourself! You greedy fox dung!”

    Fern growled at her, full of rage. An unknown force took over him, and that force took his claws, and sliced at the she-cat's exposed belly. Blood bled freely from the fresh wound as Ginger took a swipe at his face, but claw never met flesh. She backed away weakly, concern in her eyes as she tried unsuccessfully to stop the bleeding.

    Before running, she hissed at him; “You’re so vicious, you could join Bloodclan and be a pretty good warrior for them!”

    Staring at her retreating figure, all of the anger drained out of Fern, replaced by worry. “Ginger, wait!”

    Anger flared in his stomach at her for comparing him to his clan, but it quickly went away as Fern realized that he had provoked her to say it.

    ‘She must be losing a lot of blood.’ The thought struck him like lightning. Fern suddenly concerned for the well-being of a cat that had offended him deeply, raced off to find Ginger. He followed a fresh trail of blood, and sure enough, found her.

    Ginger was lying in a pool of her own blood, unconscious. Fern dragged her into her nest and stopped the blood with some cobwebs he found in the hollow. After making sure she would be okay, Fern went back to the glittering pool to find some moss. He caught a sparrow and mouse on his way back to his patient.

    After awhile, Ginger came out, mouth flecked with blood from the mouse she ate.

    “You shouldn’t move around much with that gash on your stomach.” Fern meowed calmly, his mouth still full of sparrow.

    She opened her mouth as though to say something, but thought better of it and said; “Wow, you’re quite the healer.” Ginger said this in a teasing way, but it wasn’t mean.

    She went up to Fern and pressed her muzzle against his flank, thanking him. He gently pushed her away.

    “Well, if you’re leaving the forest, you’re going to need protection. You shouldn’t just go out there alone. You could be killed.” His eyes seemed to soften a bit as he said it, but that was soon corrected.

    “We will leave tomorrow at dawn.” Ginger said confidently. “I think I have a pretty good idea of where we are going. How about we meet at the big oak?”

    Fern just nodded, worry clawing at his insides, preventing him from doing anything more. He padded away, and once he was out of sight, started sulking.

    ‘I don’t want to be alone, but I also don’t want to meet other cats! What if their my kin?’ Fern sighed. ‘I guess I can’t turn back.’

    The walk back to his cave seemed endless, even though it was only a few minutes away. Every sound that broke the silence made him feel increasingly lonely. Fern tried to think other thoughts to distract him. That pool of moon, for example. That beautiful tortoiseshell, Dapplepelt, wads no dream. She had been real. He could see her even as he was walking in the forest. Fern just wished he could breathe in her scent one more time….

    Crack!

    Pain exploded in Fern’s head as he tried to distinguish solid stone from thin air. Even though he aimed for the moss, he landed in a pile of weeds.

    Paws of many colors and sizes filled the ancient prints from times gone past; small trickles of shimmering water echoed around the smooth stone walls; dried herbs of much variety filled the spacius crevices, perfuming the cavern. Cats of many colors and sizes formed a circle around the glittering pool of moon. They seemed to mutter a prayer before letting the water touch their faces. As soon as they were asleep, other cats with starry pelts appeared. These cats talked.

    “No! We shouldn’t let them!” A cat with a blue pelt meowed.

    A black and white cat argued with her. “We should let them decide their own destiny, Bluestar.”

    The cat that was now identified as Bluestar growled at him. “Thunderclan has taken in too many cats to take in some more, nonetheless loners.”

    A dark black cat stopped their argument. “Stop! They both may go to Shadowclan for all you know!”

    An evil aura surrounded cat growled at them. “Those fox-“

    Bluestar interrupted him. “One of them is watching.”

    The dream suddenly faded away and the only thing Fern could smell was Ginger.

    He lifted his head. “Ginger?”

    Fern heard the brambles rustle, but no tortoiseshell cat responded. He stretched, and only a dull throb came from his head. He was getting used to the feeling. A few paw steps later lead him to realize he wasn’t in his den.

    Fern grabbed a nearby mouse by its tail and started munching. The mouse had a familiar scent on it… Ginger.

    ‘What was Ginger doing here? Why is my prey so crunchy?’

    Fern had almost swallowed the bones. He quickly spat them out to begin the search for Ginger.

    “Ginger? Ginger?” Fern called out, but no answer. He was farther away from the forest now. This was Sparrow’s territory now.

    “Ginger? Ginger? Ginger!”

    “Help, help, help!” The sudden scream caught Fern off guard. He fell on something furry, but paid it no mind. He just kicked the dead thing away and got back up.

    “Ginger? Are you down there?” Fern asked the hole the voice came from. Strangely, his voice echoed around the tiny area.

    “Yes, I’m down here! Now come help me, you stupid furball!”

    “Okay…” Fern said slowly. “But why are you-“

    Ginger’s voice cut him off. “Just come help me!”

    Fern slowly put a paw in… And fell down.

    A yelp of surprise escaped him as he landed with a thud in a cloud of dust. After a few moments of coughing, Fern realized Sparrow had a different definition of ‘small’ then he did…