Username: EchoIre
Cat Name: Smokemask
Gender: Demi-boy
Rank: Warrior
Clan: LakeClan
Age: 45 moons
Prompt:
She was such a small, helpless little thing. Standing alone in the woods, ignorant of dangers such as foxes and wolves - stars forbid bears. Her blue eyes shone with youthful determination, black kit-fuzz sticking up wildly around her face.
There were fresh scents around her, but the little kit proudly stated that she had been left there. That her family loved her so much they were letting her join the clan in the woods to be a warrior.
Smokemask - Fervor then - could only scoff.
"Your family didn't love you very much then." Was all he said.
But still he took her back to camp. He didn't try to argue with her when she told him he was wrong - he knew he could never convince her otherwise. Not then, at least. So he didn't try again, as much as it gnawed at him. How could those cats abandon a child like that, and still tell her that they loved her?
When Glacierstar apprenticed the little black kit to him, she was noticeably far less excited to be a warrior then. She could see her face wrinkle slightly with distaste, but took it silently. She would learn someday, or not at all.
He taught her all he knew. Some day along the way, he started to care for the little black kit with wild fur and dreams of being a warrior. And because he cared, he tried to make her see the truth about her birth family. How lucky it was he found her that day, how strange it was that they never checked in. He never pushed it too far, and never directly said what he felt, but he tried to show her. And he watched. And he was there. There when she realized, there when she cried. There to help her use her anger to grow.
When he sat beneath the Highrock, watching the warrior with the wild black fur stand proud above her clan, her family, Smokemask was proud for what he had done. He had done little good in his life, he thought, but this was the best good thing he had ever done.