Goreclaw was sleeping near the edge of the warriors den. He slept fitfully, having dreams of a dark forest, a red liquid, he presumed blood, was dashed all over the area around him. Bodies of indiscernable cats lay, their bodies mangled, the blood dripping from their body. Through the darkness, a ghostly cat came forward. He was black and white, and draped in blood. His mouth opened, and words seemed to slide from his mouth.
"Kin under attack,
a sinning father's wish.
Starclan will accept your path
as not all cats are worthy of hunting."
Goreclaw awoke in fright, shaking his head as the memories of his dream seemed to wash away. He stood up softly, not wanting to wake his comrades. He walked out of the den, into the brisk night air. He sighed, and started toward a small rock, his favorite place to sit. He tried to clear his mind, but it was not as easy as he had hoped.