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The last thing Ashfur remembered was drinking from the river, and then a burning flash of pain as Hollyleaf sunk her fangs into his neck, and then red, and finally black. The next thing he knew, Hollyleaf was gone, and he was standing over his body. Looking down, his paws were see-through, and when he reached out forwards his corpse, his paw went through it. He was dead.
Ashfur fell into a panic. How could he be dead!? He had so much to live for! He had a clan to protect, a cat to make love him, and plenty more to get revenge on. No, his life only started, so there was no way it could be ending so soon. This was surely a dream, he would wake up in his nest, not as a ghost, but as a real, normal cat, his throat not torn, his pelt not cold, his body not hard as stone. Brambleclaw would call him for the morning hunting patrol, and Squirrelflight would be there, and he outs make her love him, and Hollyleaf would never get the chance to kill him, as if he were merely prey. Everything would be alright, he would make sure of it.
He squeezed his eyes shut, praying to Starclan that he would wake up right now. He kept his eyes shut, and only opened them when he heard a voice.
“Ashfur.”
He gasped. Ashfur hadn’t heard that voice in moons, not since that horrible day… Before him was his mother, Brindleface. The star-speckled she-cat stepped forward and rubbed her cheek against his.
“My son, my kit… I’ve missed you so much. I’m here to escort you to StarClan, we can reunite.” She purred
In response, Ashfur hissed and backed away. “You fox-hearted traitor! Where were you when Squirrelflight broke my heart? Where were you when Hollyleaf killed me!?” He spat.
His mother backed away, her eyes shining with hurt. “Ashfur… I-I’m so sorry. If I knew she was going to kill you, I would have told you, but Starclan can’t know everything, and that was something that we didn’t see. But Hollyleaf will be punished in time, and now I can finally see you again.”
In response, Ashfur slashed his claws through Brindleface’s cheek, silvery starlight pouring out of the cut. “I hate you! I hate all of you! No, I won’t go to Starclan! I reject you!”
With that, Ashfur turned and ran. His paws beat the ground hard, speckles of stars following him. He could hear Brindleface racing after him, but the sound of her pawsteps grew quieter, and eventually faded altogether. He kept running, though he had no idea where he was going, All he knew was that he need to go away, away from Brindleface, away from Starclan, away from the cats who had done nothing to help him when he needed them most. The trees flew by him in dark brown lines, the sage-green ferns going through him as he pressed on. As Ashfur kept running, he took note that he didn’t feel the slightest bit tired, even though he had ran through Thunderclan’s whole territory. At least there was one pro to being dead, Ashfur supposed. He only noticed he was starting to get close to the Twoleg-place when the trees started to thin out, and he started to see the tall nests twolegs lived in. And just like that, suddenly he was inside the maze of hard black rivers, monsters, and soft, lazy kittypets.
As he neared one nest, Ashfur noticed a small grey kittypet laying in the sun. The sight of them gave him an idea. He trotted up to them, his tail waving slightly in a friendly manner.