Meteora [O]

Bloodstrike had been up for about an hour before the rest of the clan. It had been just enough time to drink water from the creek, scent out potential prey items and head back to camp. He sat patiently while the rest of the camp stirred, nodding and muttering a good morning to the warriors that passed him. Wolfblossom would give her orders for the day, and then he'd be off with his assigned patrol. It was another typical morning in Skyclan. The temperatures were still chilly, but he could tell that new-leaf was on it's way. Good riddance to leaf-bare too. It was always during the coldest part of the year that all of the worst things had happened to him. Not to mention countless others.

A flash of white movement in the tree branches above made the old, scarred tom jump to his feet, fur standing on end. His eyes landed on Falconpaw, apparently already awake and lingering around the branches above. Stars curse you boy... Bloodstrike thought grumpily as he forced his fur to lie flat and sat back down. He took a deep breath to relax, the air temperature barely low enough to cause a silver mist to flow from his nostrils and mouth. He watched as the pale-furred apprentice moved quietly across a limb and lie down on it, apparently also waiting to be assigned to a patrol.

"You're up early." Bloodstrike called up to the apprentice, his tone neutral and his expression stoic. Falconpaw looked down at him cooly.

"I couldn't sleep again. My dreams keep me awake." The apprentice was just as dismissive of the old tom as he was of him. Bloodstrike didn't know how he felt about that. He did know that he'd rather not see him in the trees, but he wasn't going to make a spectacle twice. He'd already snatched him from a branch in the weeks prior and he would do his best to not make it a habit.

You sure do dream a lot... if that's even what you're doing. Bloodstrike's tail nub twitched in irritation, but he looked away from the apprentice and eagerly awaited to get started for the day. The further he was away from Falconpaw the better.

Falconpaw on the other hand, wasn't interested in talking to the grumpy old tom right now. His mind was busy. He had another dream that rattled him, though he'd had a few hours to settle himself down before anyone could catch his fear-scent. The poor other apprentices in the den were so used to him kicking himself a wake or being gone that they didn't even question it anymore. It wasn't like he asked for this. Falconpaw replayed the dream in his head again. He didn't think he saw any cats that he recognized this time, though one looked similar to Nightstar. A very young black tom with white patches in all of the right places and yellow eyes too, but it was hard to say if he was just imagining what Nightstar may have been like when he was younger.

Regardless... the dream had been violent.

Falconpaw was in a land that was soaked from water and squishy underfoot. It stank. He stalked quietly forward as he neared some sort of goal... and that was when other cats came out of nowhere and attacked. He wasn't alone. Falconpaw had other cats helping him, and before long there was a blur of cats clashing against cats. A patchy she-cat in particular was his opponent, and they clashed violently with lethal purpose. The battle was bloody, with various cats yowling unintelligible things at eachother. One tom was a calico that howled with such a fury, that even in a dream Falconpaw detected pain as much as rage. This was no ordinary clan battle... There was more than just a need for food or territory here. Falconpaw ended up needing help with his opponent, a she-cat that could fight that well was a mythological beast as far as he was concerned. Another she-cat stepped in to assist... and that one was precious to him.

That was when Falconpaw had woken up. He swore he could still smell the blood for a good half of an hour after the dream ended. He could have swore that he actually tasted it as well. The apprentice closed his eyes and sunk his claws tensely into the bark. They're getting more vivid. He still wasn't sure what to do. He'd been having night terrors his whole life. Maybe this was just something he needed to learn to deal with? With a sigh, he opened his eyes once more and waited for his mother to begin organizing the patrols. He wanted something to think about that wasn't blood-filled dreams.