honor and glory [o]

For as long as she could remember, Thalia had found she had a fascination for learning. Whether it was weaving flowers into crowns, maintaining the predator pelts the Asylum cats wore, or just history. It was strange that now her own history was something half-forgotten, though some memory of it remained.

It was stranger still that she could wear her pelt and not stand out quite so much now, when it had become as much tradition for ShadowClan as it had for the cats who raised her. There were differences: ShadowClan's rite of passage was meant for warriors, not cats who were barely more than kits. It was a change she couldn't say she disagreed with.

And, at least to her, it was stranger even still that she was respected for her skill and knowledge when it came to crafting and maintaining the pelts they wore. She had never held the same disdain for the Pelt Wards that so many seemed to, but it hadn't been a common sentiment.

As it was at the moment, the ShadowClan warrior was meticulously cleaning her own fox pelt.

Lightpaw had seen Thalia around camp, but she seldom noticed her. She knew her only as the enigmatic she-cat with a strange name who made flower crowns. But now, for some reason, she felt like saying hi to Thalia. So she did.

“Um, hi, Thalia, ma’am. I noticed your fox pelt, it’s really cool. I don’t know what kind of pelt I want, but I think I heard my mom say she’s going for fox. I was wondering, um, if you could show me a little bit about pelt cleaning? Mother’s been feeling kinda down lately, and I want to help her with her pelt as a special surprise.”

Thalia purred as one of ShadowClan's apprentices- Lightpaw, her mind supplied- approached her; stifling a laugh at the respectful address. "Thank you, Lightpaw! I lost my old one in the flood, but ran into a fox on my way back to Clan land. And now it seems like everyone is going to have one- it's strange to see, but I don't think I mind it. It makes me feel a little less lonely."

(That was something difficult to forget- that once it had been home to Thalia and Emberleap and Foxspark and Shira. That now it was Thalia, just Thalia, and nothing more than memories of the other stolen kits.)

She hummed as Lightpaw mentioned being unsure of what pelt she wanted to obtain, and asked for help with cleaning it to aid her mother. "It seems like a much more important decision than it was to me," she admitted. "It's supposed to mean something. Mine always did, but... I don't know that it was ever really supposed to, other than belonging. It didn't really represent me, anyway- or maybe it did, back then? It's hard to say, but it still represented something..."

The warrior blinked, remembering that she was mid-conversation a few moments too late. "Sorry, I got distracted for a second there! I'd be happy to teach you, Lightpaw- it's important that more cats learn how to care for them, especially if this is supposed to be a lasting tradition for ShadowClan."

Lightpaw cocked her head at some of what Thalia said. The warrior kept getting more mysterious. “So what’s the most important thing to know?” she finally asked.

"It depends on what you plan on using it for- if it's just for battle, or rare occasions, you'd only need to clean it... Maybe once a moon or so? And thoroughly when you've worn it. But if it's like mine, and you plan on wearing it more than that... You should clean it every few days, but less intensely. The marsh is messy, so getting the mud off it and keeping it off while it dries is probably the hardest part. That's what I'm doing- I wear mine a lot and I keep it by my nest, so it gets muddy really fast."

Thalia enjoyed explaining things; even more when they were things she actually knew and understood, however simply. "If it's really messy, you might need to bring it out to somewhere there's water and wash it. Rocks are the best place to dry it off, and clear sunny days are best for that."

She kept talking as she laid hers, newly cleaned of mud, out to dry. "This isn't really cleaning, but- if you want to wear it, and you want it to stay and not fall off, we used to use mud to secure it. It means you have to clean it a lot more thoroughly afterward, but it's a lot less likely to slip. I never really did it that way, though."

If I had, things might be different now, she mused, recalling that fateful day by the river.

"Is there anything more specific you'd like to know?"

Lightpaw listened solemnly, taking in Thalia’s every word. “How long ago was all this?” she asked. “I mean, not to be rude, ma’am, but I’d never seen or heard of anyone other than you wearing a pelt in ShadowClan, so I know it’s from before my time.”

Thalia blinked, recalling that she hadn't told this story in any detail since Iceheart was still Icepaw. "Just Thalia is fine. It was... Some time ago, now. When Flintshard was still around- he was Flintstar, then- and Murkystar was deputy. When Asylum swept over the forest in a single night."

She assumed that Lightpaw had heard stories of them. Between the Clanborn kits they'd stolen and the number of them that had been born to ShadowClan.

All the same, she started the story there anyway. "The Asylum cats stole kits from each of the Clans and raised them as their own, intending to turn them against their kin. When all was said and done, most of those kits stayed- some were born to ShadowClan, some were mates with ShadowClan cats, and some were simply allowed to stay. Some took warrior names, and some kept the ones they were given- like me."

The warrior tilted her head. "Asylum cats wore pelts like these- though they weren't all from predators. A few wore rabbits. The Asylum cats did a lot of awful things... But they had some good ideas. The mud doesn't just help the pelt stick to your fur, it can also mask your scent."

She rested her head on her paws. "They did a lot of awful things with what they knew, but they taught me a lot..." Because I was one of them. "So I want to use what they taught me for the good of ShadowClan."