The Night of Cinder

After many failed attempts to quench her curiosity, Night reluctantly dragged her small paws back into camp. It wasn’t her fault she was so curious on what laid upon the outside of the camp. It was her clanmates fault that they wouldn’t let her go out! She wouldn’t been so adventurous if she saw everything, right? Somethings made no sense to Night, or perhaps it was her lack of knowledge. But she refused to believe that. She took a glance back at her mother, who had stopped herding her back into the camp and scolding her. Mumbling to herself, the calico pondered random thoughts and her paws carried her to a secluded area. She let out a bored yawn and her haunches folded under her into a sitting position.

ooc: i am known for writing wayyy more than is necessary. don't feel pressured to match my post length, i'm just extremely extra

Cinderface was licking her paws clean of dirt and grime from that night's hunting expedition. Feeding the clan was one of the more dreary aspects of StagClan life. She missed the days when apprentices would do all the hunting for elders and kits, and she could mosey along with more leisure. There was no cheating anymore, not with Burnt, her exalted leader, coming along on patrols. She quite liked his new persona, though she was egregiously jealous of Silent Snows. That little weasel was practically a kit, and she bore the future of the forest before Cinderface could get her paws on it. The long-furred calico had many new names to remember, but Cinderface herself had decided to keep her StarClan-given name. She considered "Face of Cinder" or "Shining Cinders," but she didn't want to seem overly conceited. Her name suited her just fine, drawing attention to her lovely features.

Glancing up from her poor battered paws, Cinderface spotted one of Burnt's little scraps close by. Well, if she couldn't have them herself, she'd just have to make them like her. This was an easy enough task, so long as she continued her "clan sweetheart" act for a while. This brief moment was as good as any to earn the kitten's trust. But, by the great forest, what was its name?

Time to guess. "Night, darling," the warrior cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Go grab some prey from the fresh-kill pile. You can show me how a warrior pounces, and if you do it right, I might ask your father to make you an apprentice a little ahead of schedule... hm? How does that sound?"

Nights head flicked up at the voice of her name and swiveled around to find it. Her gaze rested upon a calico like her that she had always though to be pretty and smiled. ”Hi Cinderface! She greeted in a purr, stepping up closer to the She-cat. Her eyes widened in joyful surprise at the ring of her words. ”Really, you’d do that?” Her voice bubbled with excitement.

Not waiting for answer, the little scrap jumped up and her small paws scattered over to ground to the fresh kill pile. She stood at the edge, lifting her chin into the air at the sweet smell of fresh kill before grabbing a fat toad in her tiny jaws and turning around to bring it back to the long haired she-cat. However, little Night learned that you can’t run with a toad bigger than her head in her mouth while running and tripped over her paws. She was quick to steady herself and carry the toad more slowly to the waiting warrior.

"Why, thank you very much," she said as she took the frog from the kit. She took a few heaping bites before looking back up at the kit curiously. Night seemed a bit cheery to be coming from Burnt and Silent Snows. Cinderface prayed that she wasn't so daft that she couldn't follow directions. She saw a little bit of herself in the tiny kit... an ambition, a hunger. Like her father, too. Well, it certainly helped that she was also a calico. Cinderface had never tried her tricks on a kit before, but she sensed that she had to think bigger than that. Night was special, somehow, and there was potential to be uncovered.

"This is your first lesson, Night," she instructed, "If you want something, never get your paws dirty for it. Your father founded StagClan without lifting a single paw, and now we all follow him like ducklings. You simply have to do the same, child, and live up to your legacy." She swept her paw out and brought the kit closer. "Cats everywhere will listen to you. You just have to say the right things, and you can get whatever you need. If you don't want to, for example, walk to the fresh-kill pile, you can tell a kit that she'll be apprenticed early and she'll come running over with a frog!" Cinderface winked and begin to laugh. "Don't be cross with me, dearie. Some lessons are learned the hard way."

Night watched as the cat before her leaned to take a few bites, ideas of early apprenticeship forgotten. She watched the frog as another bite was taken before lifting her head and angling her ears as Cinderface spoke. Her words formed into sense as the little kit started to understand what was being told. ”Never get my paws dirty?” She asked, looking for clarification. Night definitely knew Cinderface wasn’t stupid, so this lesson she listened to ever bit of it. ”And if they don’t do what you tell them?” She was certainly curious, ready for her brain to be filled with misgivings.

Cinderface smiled. The little Night was curious, indeed. "You see, child, you should never do work if there's somebody who's perfectly willing to do it for you. Does a leader hunt? Or does he send out patrols, organizing them and never lifting a paw? But you see, sometimes your father does patrol... but only when he knows he's the only one who can do it as well as himself. Do you see now?"

The calico sighed and shook her head at Night's question. She was an impressionable kit, wasn't she? Cinderface smiled to herself. One day, under Cinderface's careful guidance, Night could easily ascend to leadership and make StagClan a real utopia. Burnt had sewn the seeds, caused disarray in the forest. Chaos made cats listen. The she-cat could see it unfolding: small clans, bands of felines hunting for the leaders of their packs in exchange for protection and shelter. There was no clan loyalty or code to speak of, just the strong of mind and those who wished to follow in their lead. That was her version of a utopia. She leaned in close. "If any cat tells you no, they've sent a message that they don't respect your stature as daughter of Burnt. They don't see your intelligence, grace, or importance. How sad is that, their jealousy?" She gasped dramatically to punctuate the horror of it all. "I respect you, Night. And if anybody doesn't, you haven't given them a reason yet. This is the way of the forest. Nobody gets anything without putting a little effort into it. If you can spin a cat around your paw, they will never say no. You, and your family, are a family of yeses. They will respect you, or they will leave and sacrifice the protection and safety you've offered them. Understand?"

Night nodded and tapped her little paws on the dry ground in front of her excitedly. "Yes Cinderface, they rule clan without lifting a paw. Built on respect and loyalty for them!" Her voice escalated as she understood. It started to make sense to her, the clans were built in ways that one had to be respected to succeed and Night herself, was highly respected. "My family is of high respect? No cat should not respect another out of jealousy. That's absurd! Cinderface, I respect you because you are an elder and helped the growth of Stagclan." She purred and rubbed her forehead under Cinderface's jaw respectively.