Bird's Name Change Ceremony

Bird had very mixed feelings about this new Clan. They helped him out, fed him and cured whatever had been wrong with him previously, so he couldn't exactly hate them. But they weren't his real family. Where was his real family? He had a family, he knew that. He remembered the warm milk-scent of his mother and the warmth of his littermates. and yet, he couldn't remember their faces or even their noice. He had the faintest nagging at the back of his mind that told him he was forgetting something very important, but what? It drove the tom mad, lingering just at the corner of his vision. What had happened that left him here with all these strangers?

Their faces were ugly and unfamiliar, their smiles twisted and fake. It wasn't the smiles he was used to. What were the smiles he was used to? Bird looked around him at the strangers that had taken him in. what a brat he was, ungrateful despite having been saved by these cats. But somewhere in his mind it didn't click that these cats were, well, cats. They looked more like shadows that actual cats. How did they look like? Bird couldn't tell anymore, and let himself be passed among them without arguement. Who are you? Where is my mother?

He held onto his old name stubbornly. It must have been given to him by his real mother. The mother that had loved him. Because he was loved, right?

Amber eyes looked up as a voice he had heard before rang through the make-shift camp. The shadows moved to gather around the shadow that had called, and reluctantly he followed, squeezing through the shadows to the front of the crowd. The feel of fur against his own when he couldn't see any made him shiver, and he picked up his pace a little.

His name was called, and instantly amber eyes darted to the caller. A huge shadow that stood above the rests, carrying with him an air of importance. The shadows around him shifted to make way for him, and slowly Bird made his way to the front. Terrified on the inside on what was to come, and what would be demanded of him, but the kit stayed composed. Something told him that he had used this netruel face more than once before, and it was a comforting wall from the dozens of eyes that burned into him. The shadow's words clashed with the others' whispers, and he only managed to catch a few snippets. Something about Swiftheart, a name he had heard plenty of times but never quite understood who it was meant for. Everyone looked the same to him. But he did recall a gentle voice telling him something about a "Code", and the warmth scent of milk, and the slight disgust the laced each word of the code... had that been Swiftheart?

A question was asked, eventually. Bird could feel the gazes of the gathered shadows intensify, and knew that there would only be one answer to this. "I do," He confirmed, steady voice unfamiliar to his own ears but carrying over the clearing easily. This voice... he had once ordered someone, so much so that it became a habit. But when... and who did he order?

Quillkit? No, no, no. He was Bird. That was the name that his mother had given him. It was one of his only leads as to where his mother was, and what had transpired that resulted in... this. The tom tried his best not to cry out, and calmed down his heartbeat. He could still use this to his advantage. Having another name meant that if something had- had happened, however much he didn't want to think of it, if there was a reason for... danger, at least having a new name meant that he would be safe, right?

Quillkit swallowed his doubts, keeping his face as blank as possible until he felt the gazes disperse from his body. Only one lingered longer than the others: the wary, curious yellow gaze of a predator sizing up its prey.