the stranger | ferndance

[DOGFUR]

"Ah, they've forgotten to put me on the morning patrol!" Dogfur remarked out loud as they crawled out of the warrior den, noticing the group of cats had gone. "I hope they will not hold it against me. It wasn't my fault." No twinge of sadness colored his exclamation. They could not even quite remember if he had been invited or assigned at all in the first place.

The scrawny tortoiseshell placed his rump down on the frozen ground, gazing listlessly at the empty fresh-kill pile. Not even a ThunderClan mouse decorated those hallowed bones. The camp felt dead today, at this particular hour. Dogfur knew sleep often staved off hunger. It was a wonderful thing, to be able to sleep and to dream of lands and places that bent the rules of reality. Surely, a cat would go mad if they could not sleep. Dogfur chuckled to himself, his hind leg twitching and thumping against the ground.

"It's a shame... I really am a good hunter. Why, where I was born, there would be cockroaches as big as my paw and I'd hunt them down and crunch their tiny bodies underneath my teeth. There was no place they could hide—not from me." Annoyed with their own prattling, Dogfur looked around to see if anyone else was up—anyone would do, but the Clan idiot had his favorites.

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[FERNDANCE]

Dogfur's outcry, so early in the morning, was difficult to ignore. Two beady emerald eyes settled on the younger tortoiseshell, unperturbed by the interruption to her grooming. She'd accumulated so many little trinkets in the night that she didn't want to get rid of them and so, only a few pine needles and clumps of moss lay on the floor around her, guaranteed to be brought back to her corner of the warrior den at a later date. She empathised with their concern, however fleeting. Though it had been some time since she'd been given the chance, she prided herself in her ability to hunt, and could only hope that the next round of ThunderClan patrols included her. As the tortoiseshell began their story, Ferndance stretched, her ribs digging into her skin. Would things be different if she had stayed with her family? Probably. Would she be having as much fun, despite the starvation? Probably not. On fawn and white paws, the former loner approached, her head cocked with intrigue towards the other. His story had her hooked like a fish on RiverClan claws, her smile growing wider and wider at the thought of cockroaches going 'pop'.

Either they were some big bugs, or Dogfur had been a tiny kit. She subconsciously assumed the latter, given their rheumy eyes and frazzled appearance. All the same, she liked the warrior, granted she couldn't always keep up with what he was saying, but Dogfur himself didn't seem able to keep up with what he was saying either. "Wow. That's an absolutely incredible story." Despite the tabby's flat delivery, her gentle tone betrayed her sincerity. Briefly, she wondered how low Dogfur's jaw would drop if she shared tidbits of her own past, all the beasties she'd seen and things she'd (unfortunately) had to run away from. There was time for such discussions later. Raising an alabaster paw, she made a gesture in the air as if squashing an insect. "Did you ever use your paws to kill them? I found that much easier, you got to just suck up their juices off the ground and then you don't have to worry about getting their shells stuck in your teeth." It was a shame that there weren't as many bugs out this time of year, her advice could've been invaluable. Alas, she didn't think she could eat the fleas that jumped half-heartedly on her flank at dawn's bite.



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[DOGFUR]

Dogfur glanced excitedly over his shoulder, noticing the familiar form of the older brown ticked tabby. Eyes widening impossibly, he scooted over a mouse-length and used his front paw to tap incessantly at the ground beside him—an exuberant invitation for the other warrior to join him.

"Did they forget you too?" Dogfur cried as his grin grew uncontrollable. The remnants of a laughter stuck inside his throat bubbled, threatening to come up. "They were enormous. They'd grow fat on the blood of all the ugly, scabby cats that I lived with." They raised his paw and widened his toes to show just how big these unknown creatures were, perhaps self-consciously mimicking Ferndance's own gesture. They paused. "Oh, maybe those are a different creature—ticks maybe."

Their tongue rasped over their lips and he nodded along, a strange contrast to the words coming out of his mouth. "No. My paws are too twitchy for that. Usually. And cockroaches run fast—it's fascinating that they have such a will to live. A strong one. Do you think the bugs have feelings, Ferndance? Do you think they cry and beg to live when some cat's jaws close in over them?"

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[FERNDANCE]

She shuffled even closer to the twitchy tortoiseshell, a brief smugness washing across the regal air to the ticked tabby's mannerisms. "Oh I don't think anyone could forget me." She assured Dogfur, a rare sincerity in her tone. There wasn't much Ferndance wanted out of life, as long as it was a fun one she could die without any goals or ambitions, but the thought of not leaving a lasting impression was a somewhat disappointing one. Large ears flicked out of sync, grinning alongside the creature who looked as if their own glee had brought them to tears. Dogfur would be unforgettable too, she hoped he knew that. "They probably just... thought I could use a break. There's been a whole lotta hunting, but not so much catching." Her paws were beginning to fatigue from it all, but at that moment, ShadowClan's problems were easy to ignore. The hunger had dulled, and with such an interesting conversation to be had, she could almost forget that she'd wanted to go out on one more patrol before the next ThunderClan skirmish.

Emerald eyes briefly squinted at his description, her head tilted in bemusement until Dogfur suggested that he was, in fact, not talking about cockroaches. She was about to say, for all their wiggling around and looking tough, they didn't really do much. Ticks on the other hand... "Fleas too. Goodness, so many things just want to gobble us all up. I still need to see Starlingheart about my own little blood-sucking friends, would you care to join me when the time comes? They'll probably say hi to you at some point as well... the fleas, I mean." She was unapologetic about being the potential patient zero for a flea outbreak in camp and unapologetic about potentially transferring them to Dogfur too - she suspected the ugly, scabby cats of his past had already given him them. Ferndance's paws kneaded into the soft marshy ground, coating them a ruddy grey the longer she dug them into the earth. It seemed subconscious as she listened to the other speak, a grounding tactic to make sure her attention didn't drift off to StarClan knows where.

Her blinks grew steadily and steadily slower when posed with a more philosophical question: do bugs have feelings? She raised a hindleg to scratch an itch in her flank, deciding as she did so that it truly didn't matter if they had feelings or not. Frogs felt fear when you chased them, dogs seemed to feel loyalty to an owner, but they were still prey or competitors respectively, only the emotions of those closest to her truly mattered. "I have big ears, I would've heard them if they made a noise other than... crunch. Perhaps they have their own language, one that transcends beyond what we can hear, like how we use our tails to talk to each other. Maybe them waving their spindly little legs around is cockroach for, 'noooo please don't splat me I have a mate and too many kids! " Formerly digging paws suddenly flew up into the air beside her head, specks of sodden dirt flying off of them. The limbs moved sporadically as if belonging to the bug she attempted to imitate, only stopping briefly when Fern gave a more conclusive answer. "And if fear is a feeling then yes, I suppose they do have feelings. I'll still eat them though."



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[DOGFUR]

Dogfur's sulphuric eyes widened to an impossible degree. A shiver went down his spine, racking his thin form. "Pah, fleas." His tongue swept over his blackened lips as he thought back to distant memories. They were hazy and incomplete, perhaps that was why everyone told him he had such a poor memory or a penchant for creating things out of nothing.

But almost as if by some psychological design, he felt an itch at the back of his shoulder blade. How fitting, he thought, as he rapidly bent his head backwards to dig his teeth into that patchy fur until he was satisfied. "I fear," He sighed dramatically as he finished, but he was cracking a wide grin as he spoke. "They will find me soon enough if not already, so I shall join you. A host for a pa-parasite. Both of us. There's something special about that, ah—I'll get back to you with my grand theory." He was smiling so wide any other cat would think he was snarling.

His breath rattled in his throat as he listened to Ferndance's words. He was uncharacteristically silent, her words having captured his attention. And somehow the topic of bugs, a silly and insignificant creature, was so appealing to him. He hated them and yet he loved them at the same time. A duality that he could not quite articulate.

"That's right." He purred. "I think the same. Woe to anyone—any-one—who thinks differently. They're quite like us, I believe, in many ways. They probably want to be us. That's why they cling to our fur and drink our blood. But you're right. We'll eat them and I won't listen to any cry they make. And suppose," His hind leg twitched again and he turned his neck. "Well—I've never seen it, no, no, but there is a bug that doesn't just feed on cat blood, but it infests cat brains—bites and nibbles at every fiber of ourselves to take over our entire body. Because? Because they want to be like us—and they never can. So they'll control us like that. I believe such a bug exists. It has not made itself known yet, no. But when it does, I'll be ready. See? I can make prophecies, too." He paused and grinned.

"Smogmaw will be its first victim."

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[FERNDANCE]

A solemn nod was offered to the younger tortoiseshell, her eyes closed in a silent vigil for a lost part of themselves. Never again would the cat be the same, tainted by fleas. They were a gateway bug to worse things, she feared, like ticks and ants and flies. It would be nice to keep Dogfur's company before any of the three found his patchy pelt. Fascination glinted in the tabby's emerald eyes at the promise of a future theory, one that she would hold him on. For now, Ferndance had one of her own, born not of personal experience or philosophy, but of the first thoughts that came to her often empty head. "It means we are connected, destined to be together forever. As friends, or as mortal enemies." There was a brief moment when her features darkened. Eyes narrowed, an otherwordly viciousness appeared on her widening grin, then, in a blink, it vanished. Once more, she smiled sweetly, a narrow cheek resting upon her shoulder fur in a faux display of curiosity and innocence. "Probably friends." She was beginning to trust Dogfur more and more, it seemed unlikely they would turn on her.

It appeared especially untrue considering the similarities in thoughts they shared. Birds of a feather, one might say. She listened intently as he explained himself and the envy that the little bugs must have felt to have wanted to be around felines so badly. She nodded once more, this time more sharply in agreement with the tortoiseshell's ramblings. As her head raised, she paused just before it reached the crux of its height. Her wedge-shaped cranium etched forwards - had she heard that right? Were they truly brain bugs out there? A shudder went down the tabby's spine at the thought. Though she objected to having such a creature in her own head, a morbid part of her wanted to see what they looked like and additionally, what an infected cat might look like. "Well... doesn't everybody want to be a cat? I believe we are the only ones who know where it's at. This bug isn't so special, it should get in-line." She argued lightheartedly with a dismissive flick of her tail, only aimed towards the creatures themselves. Speaking from a place of utmost truth, the parasite did not sound too different from StarClan, except, worship in the fallen ancestors was slightly more consensual than one brain bug could provide. Only slightly though, she imagined it would be bad news in a gathering should one condemn the fallen.

Realising that Dogfur had intended for it to be a prophecy rather than a given truth, a silent 'oh' escaped the she-cat, her laughter light and sparse as she sought to correct her mistake internally. She supposed now was not the time to criticise religion, was it? It was there for a reason, even if she couldn't see it past her desire to live a life without the collar of a kittypet or an overly devoted parson. A paw was raised to her tanned muzzle at a familiar clanmate's name as if trying to suppress a giggle. It did not work. "Oh, Smogmaw? Bless his cold bitter heart. I love him, but he would be the first to die when the cat-brain-bug-monster takes over ShadowClan. Your prophecy will come true, I just know it." She moved back into her own space, licking a long stripe up her alabaster paw before vigorously rubbing it behind an itchy ear."Did you never want to become a medicine cat with such amazing future-sight as that?"

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