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Mudclaw tilted his head towards the sun. Deadstar was already wide awake — Mudclaw wouldn’t be surprised if he had barely slept.
“So,” Mudclaw said, nudging Deadstar slightly. “We are to battle?”
“The earth accepts all that is placed on it,” Deadstar said. “Do you remember that one?”
“It is fed in our blood and sacrifice,” Mudclaw continued. “And clensed by rain.”
Deadstar closed his eyes, and Mudclaw sighed, unsure of how to respond. His leader was concerned of this battle, but why, Mudclaw didn’t know.
“We will fight,” Deadstar said. “That is the honourable thing.” He inclined his head, the rain running down his nose. “WindClan will stand in defense of itself. We will.”
Mudclaw stood, trying to give Deadstar privacy, but Deadstar’s tail flicked before he could leave.
“Will you promise me something, Mudclaw?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.
“Of course,” Mudclaw said, without hesitation.
“When I die, don’t let WindClan forget itself.” Deadstar lowered his head, meeting Mudclaw’s eyes. “Never let us forget ourselves,” he said, then raised his tail, dismissing Mudclaw.