25 moons later

"Ow..." Badgertuft moaned as he struggled to free himself from the tangle of thorns he had managed to crash into. "Mouse-brained, fox-hearted, crowfood-eating-"

He stopped insulting the bramble bush as if it were a cat and dug his claws into the soft greenleaf earth. The thorns raked his thick gray and white pelt as he moved forward, slow as a slug. This was what he got for trying to hunt on ThunderClan territory.

Badgertuft gritted his teeth as he heard a taunting whistle from the blackbird he had been trying to catch. ThunderClan and their impossible hunting methods... he sighed inwardly. The lively chatter of the birds and squirrels in the ThunderClan forest made him want to yowl obscenities. But he couldn't do that unless he wanted a ThunderClan patrol to come investigate.

ThunderClan and RiverClan hated each other at the moment. They were constantly fighting over Sunningrocks. It had gone back and forth, first belonging to ThunderClan, then RiverClan, then ThunderClan, and so on, and now it was neutral. Both sides were trying to claim it, and both Clans were regularly failing.

Badgertuft wriggled and squirmed like a kit trying to escape from its mother. The brambles did not seem inclined to let him go. He shook his head, gave one last desperate tug, and toppled forward onto the squishy ground.

"Ugh..." he grunted, raising his face from the pile of fox-dung he had landed in. "I'll have to report this to Reedstar. A fox near our territory- not good." He would have to tell Reedstar a different story than the truth, though... he should not have been on ThunderClan territory in the first place.

The warrior sat up and licked his back, where a few tufts of fur had been torn off by the thorns. He glanced at the bramble bush and glared at the puffy gray and white flags dancing in the light breeze.

Shaking himself, Badgertuft got to his paws and trotted through the thick undergrowth, back toward the river. Young maple saplings dotted the forest, their fresh, green leaves rustling faintly as he padded past. The musty odor of leaf mold made its way into his nostrils and he sneezed it out.

The river was burbling quietly today, and Badgertuft could see the white foam frothing around the rocks that dotted it.

He padded up to the water's edge and was about to jump in when he noticed the cat laying on one of the Sunningrocks and lazily flicking her tail.

"Reedstar will hear about this, Badgertuft," she meowed, spitting his name out like it was a toad. "Hunting on ThunderClan territory," she shook her head in fake sympathy, "not good."

"Roseleaf," Badgertuft growled, his fur spiking. He didn't bother to try to keep it flat. "What have you got against me?" He and RiverClan's deputy had never gotten along.

Roseleaf twitched her whiskers in amusement, not replying. She flicked her ears in the direction of the river, silently communicating, Run along, now. We'll discuss this later.

"You know, as deputy, you really shouldn't be lazing around on Sunningrocks," Badgertuft mumbled under his breath before leaping into the cool water. He ducked under the surface, letting it wash over him and cool him down on this hot greenleaf day.

The RiverClan warrior emerged on the bank of the river near the RiverClan camp, and shook out his sopping wet fur. He sniffed the air around him. Good, the fox scent was gone from his face. He bounded toward camp, moving much easier in his familiar home territory than the strange ThunderClan forest, crowded with too many bushes and trees.

He paused after a few strides. It would not be a great idea to come back to camp empty-pawed. Badgertuft trotted back the way he came, then thought of a better plan than going back to hunt. All he had to do was tell Reedstar that he had scented the fox, then immediately reported back to camp.

He turned toward camp and started loping ahead, his long, fluffy tail waving in the air.

He brushed past the cattails at the entrance to the RiverClan camp and padded into the clearing. There had been a minor flood a few days ago, and the ground was still a bit damp underpaw. The scent of freshly-caught fish rose from the fresh-kill pile, making Badgertuft's stomach growl. He had forgotten to eat in the morning. But he would have to wait to eat until the elders, kits, and queens had eaten their fill.

Badgertuft stole one last longing glance at the pile of prey, then strode toward Reedstar's den. He heard two voices inside: Reedstar's and Springfish's. He decided to wait patiently while the leader and senior warrior talked.

A moment later, the light gray tabby form of Springfish emerged, chuckling softly. No doubt the two friends had been reliving memories from their youth.

Badgertuft watched the older tom leave, then called out, "Reedstar! May I come in?" His lopsided ears perked up, waiting for an answer.

Reedstar meowed back, "What? Oh, uh, sure! Come right on in, um... Badger... tuft! That's it!" Badgertuft sighed. His leader didn't even remember the name he had given him. How lovely it was to be well-known.

The warrior ducked into the den made of reeds and the few brambles they had been able to find on their territory. He shifted his weight from paw to paw as the leader stared at him with his bright amber eyes, making him slightly uncomfortable.

Finally, Reedstar spoke. "Well? What is it you want?"

Badgertuft licked his chest fur in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry. Um, I scented fox across the ThunderClan border and thought you might want to know there is a fox near our territory."

The ginger tom nodded. "I'll send out a patrol to make sure the fox doesn't cross the RiverClan border. Oh, and didn't Roseleaf assign you to the sunhigh ThunderClan and WindClan border patrol?" Reedstar turned away from Badgertuft and started drawing his paw over his face to clean it.

Badgertuft took this as a sign to leave. "Okay," he mewed, and headed back into the clearing. He spotted Roseleaf in the center of camp, gathering the sunhigh patrol. He sighed and padded over to join them, hoping that the fox-dung would cover up his scent on the ThunderClan border.

"I want the mouse!"

"No, I want it!"

"It's mine!"

"No. It's. NOT!"

"Please, can I have it?!"

"You're a runt!" Badgertuft heard the voices of Sharpkit, Redkit, Cloverkit, Larkkit, and Brightkit squabbling over who got to eat the only mouse on the fresh-kill pile as they raced toward their food. He barely had time to react before the kits dashed under his paws, tripping him. He fell on top of Brightkit, the littlest.

"Oof! Sorry," he mumbled, scrambling back to his paws. The three-moon-old kit got up, shook himself, and continued running after his littermates without acknowledging the warrior who had almost squished him.

Shaking his head at the kits, Badgertuft caught up to the patrol as they left camp. To his relief, Roseleaf was not leading it. The patrol leader was a relatively friendly black and white tom named Softwhisker. He had chosen Salmonear and Crowhop, both she-cats, to come along.

The patrol swished through the cattails and made its way toward the river. When they were standing on the bank, Softwhisker addressed the patrol. "Roseleaf has told me that she and Reedstar have decided to try to claim Sunningrocks. We will mark our borders where they rightfully should be, and wait for ThunderClan's response. If ThunderClan tries to threaten us, we will not hesitate to attack them."

The cats set to work marking the border on the far side of Sunningrocks. Badgertuft paired up with Crowhop, and they marked the border on Sunningrocks, then crossed the river to mark the rest of the ThunderClan border to the left of Sunningrocks, which wasn't much.

After a while of marking in silence, Crowhop meowed, "Is that a trail of fox-dung leading to the river? Has a ThunderClan cat crossed our border?" Her dark brown fur bristled with anger at their rivals. Badgertuft froze. He must have stepped in the fox-dung when he was getting to his paws after falling. He hoped Crowhop didn't smell his scent on the other side of the RiverClan border.

"M-maybe it was the fox!" Badgertuft stumbled for an excuse.

"Maybe..." Crowhop murmured. "Either way, we should report this to Reedstar when we get back to camp."

Badgertuft laughed dryly. "You can do that while I take my pick of the fresh-kill pile." Reporting to Reedstar before had been less than pleasant, and it seemed like his leader hadn't even listened to him.

Once the patrol had finished marking the ThunderClan border, they moved on to the WindClan border. The light breeze coming off the moors carried the scent of heather and rabbit. To Badgertuft, WindClan seemed like the only enemy Clan whose scent was actually decent. ThunderClan always smelled musty, and he didn't know how anyone could like the swampy scent of ShadowClan.

Salmonear, who was near the front of the patrol, broke into a run as she spotted a WindClan apprentice chasing a rabbit on RiverClan territory. Badgertuft looked to Softwhisker. The young tom was watching Salmonear. Suddenly, he chased after her, probably to stop her, Crowhop on his heels. Badgertuft sighed and followed. Why can't we just go back to camp?

"What do you think you're doing?" the three warriors heard Salmonear yowl angrily to the apprentice.

The apprentice flattened his ears against his head and backed away, whiskers quivering. He looked to be only six or seven moons old. "I- I'm s-s-sorry! I didn't mean t-to cross your border!" he stammered, clearly terrified of the overreacting she-cat.

Softwhisker stepped in just as the WindClan hunting patrol the apprentice was with found him. "Salmonear, don't be too harsh. It was an accident," he mewed gently. Salmonear turned away from the apprentice, spitting.

A WindClan tom apologized for the apprentice. "We're sorry for letting Thornpaw cross your border. He really didn't mean to. It won't happen again." He turned away, and Badgertuft could hear him reprimanding Thornpaw as the cats ran back to their camp. Badgertuft assumed the tom was Thronpaw's mentor.

The patrol quickly marked the border, glad that the WindClan cats were not angry at Salmonear for yowling at the young cat. Then, they headed back to camp, Badgertuft in the lead next to Softwhisker, his stomach still growling painfully.

They entered camp, and Badgertuft made his way to the fresh-kill pile, grabbing a bluegill to eat. He watched as Crowhop entered Reedstar's den, no doubt to tell him what he already knew.

When the setting sun began to touch the horizon, Badgertuft was sitting in the entrance to the warriors' den watching while the rest of the Clan was sharing tongues. He had never been a very social cat, which was good for him because he was a social outcast. He had no friends in the Clan, and couldn't so much as dream of having a mate. His leader didn't even remember his name.

He sighed and went outside camp to gather some more moss for his nest, breathing in the clean, fresh smell of the nearby river. All any cat could see when they looked out across the tumultuous stretch of water was a lone figure sitting on the river bank, head dipped in thought, shoulders slumped in sadness.