Username: Canary22
Cat Name: Mistfeather
Clan: DawnclanRank: Warrior
Gender: She-cat
Age: 52 moons
Prompt: Mist:
A queen looked down at her newborn kits. One lay to the side, stillborn. Two more suckled at her belly, while a fourth sat and mewled pitifully a pawstep away. The queen, whose name was Alderleaf, thought deeply about her kits’ names. She wanted them to have meaning, to have power; not just to be simple, plain names. She touched the first kit, a mackerel tabby tom, with her nose. “You, my son, will be known as Oakkit from this day forward, for your brown fur like tree bark and what I believe is a solid personality, like an oak.” She looked to the other kit at her stomach. This kit was a silver mackerel tabby. “You, my daughter, will be known as Silkkit, for your silky soft fur and what I see as a smooth personality.” The medicine cat that stood beside her looked to the silver spotted tabby that stayed away from her mother.
“Alderleaf, I wouldn’t bother naming that one. If she won’t feed, she won’t live.” Alderleaf snorted.
“Of course she’ll live, Mosswish. I will make sure she lives. So you, my darling, will be Mistkit, for your silver fur and elusive personality.” Mosswish looked over at Alderleaf again, who nudged Mistkit toward her belly with a gentle hind paw.
“How do you know your kits’ personalities already? They’ve only been alive for a few hours.” The queen looked up at Mosswish one last time.
“A mother knows, Mosswish.”
*
Feather:
Mistpaw hissed, rage and ferocity running off her in waves. Her clan leader, in the recent absence of large battles, had told her to fight with her Clanmates to prove her worthy of her warrior name. They were meant to fight with claws sheathed, but Mistpaw wasn’t sure how long that would last for. She circled her opponent and he circled her. Cinderbark growled. The pair paused, poised to spring. Their eyes locked and something passed between them, something inexplicable, something that radiates both love and hate. Then the lull was over and they sprang at each other, colliding in midair. The apprentice and warrior fell to the floor, a bundle of writhing, screeching cats. Mistpaw has been fighting with sheathed claws, but when she felt Cinderbark’s claws rake her flank, she knew that was over. She drew back slightly and slid underneath the tall tom. She clawed his soft underbelly first, before flipping over fully and pushing her back legs upwards with all her might. Cinderbark was launched into the air, but he twisted around and landed neatly on all fours. The clan leader, Yewstar, watched with critical eyes. Mistpaw waited, watching Cinderbark’s eyes. They told her everything she needed to know- that he would go for the throat next, and would leap to her back first. She prepared herself for the coming onslaught. He leapt into the air and she nimbly rolled away, throwing herself onto his back like he’d planned to do to her. She sank her claws in and clasped her teeth around his neck. Not hard, but enough to show she’d won. He lay down submissively and she released him. Yewstar looked at her approvingly and announced to the surrounding cats her promotion. “From now on, Mistpaw will be known as Mistfeather. This is for her unusual spotted pattern, that rather reminds me of a feather, and the fact that she is light on her feet. Very swift you are, Mistfeather.” The clan celebrated her new name before returning to their dens. That clan did not make their new warriors sit a vigil for the night, so she followed her fellow warriors to their den.
