Speak a Little Louder (Open)

Firkit was still a bit off-put that her brother was nowhere to be found, but that wouldn't stop her from seeing what was going on. Basilkit was usually the one to help her interact with the other cats, since she couldn't understand what they said very well. Still, she could get along decently on her own. She sniffed around the fresh-kill pile, staring in wonder at all the birds and rodents, even the occasional squirrel. How one cat could eat a whole piece was beyond her. The she-cat, if she were any other kit, was beyond ready to become an apprentice, however the fact that she could barely respond when her own name was called held her back tremendously.

Leaving the pile, she stuck her nose to the ground, following scent after scent. Each was a cat she recognized, but was never able to communicate with. Their names and words were just mumblings of various tones and pitches. Some had longer names than others, which made it a tad more difficult to learn them, but she was getting there. Her little nose still found their scents, a little too well. She bumped head-first into someone, knocking her onto her haunches.

Night of Stormy Gales had been relaxing in the sun-lit clearing, the warm breeze of new-leaf brushing against his black pelt comfortingly. As of late, the Tribe-born tom had begun to feel a bit more comfortable among the trees, deciding to join the warriors to sleep in their den, and starting to hunt a bit on his own. Still though, the lithe pitch-black tom wondered as he groomed his shiny fur, if this would ever truly be the place he called home? Home for him, was back in the mountains. A place of endless wonder, that never stopped changing. Here though, the only thing that could change a day was a tragedy like a fire, or the running loose of a murderer like that...Rockthorn cat. The exciting new life he had seemed to promise himself was quickly fading away, to be replaced by boredom.

Suddenly, Night's eyes were jolted open by the sensation of a small body bumping into his shoulder, and turned slightly to see who it was. For a moment he thought it might be Rosepaw coming to say hello, but when his gaze rested on the unfamiliar sandy-ginger kitten that thought was quickly dismissed. He has never met this little one before, so he approached her the same way he would any other youngster; with kindness and a hint of youth-like playfulness. Crouching down to her level, he met his green gaze with her bright blue one and purred; "Why hello there young one, what's your name?"

(occ: Night adores kits, so I vow to throw him in as many kit topics as possible <3)

Firkit's bright eyes glanced up to see who it was that she had run into and saw one of the newer cats. They smelled a bit different from her other Clanmates, more like rock than anything else. Her ears twitched slightly when the tom's mouth moved, trying to catch the precise series of noises and what they meant. It took her a moment, but she soon realized he was asking for her name. Well, she might as well try. 'Basilkit does so much for me.' She kneaded the ground with her paws as she tried to speak.

"Ir...Irrit!" She frowned. That didn't sound right. "F...Firkit!" Did she do it right? She couldn't tell. Would he think she was stupid for not knowing how to say her own name?

Night's head tilted slightly when the young she-kit seemed to have trouble pronouncing her own name; from what he could see on the outside there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her but he knew fully well that cats could have invisible illnesses. Still, he didn't want to ask the kitten outright if something was wrong; on top of being rude he didn't want to impose on something that wasn't his business.

With a curious smile, the prey-hunter replied; "It's nice to meet you Firkit! I am Night of Stormy Gales, but you can just call me Night." Extending a paw in the customary Tribe greeting, he suddenly realized that he hadn't used the old welcome in a long time. He had quickly adapted to the Clan's ways and customs, meaning a lot of the old traditions were beginning to fade away. A suddenly, very brief surge of anger coursed through his mind, and a hint of sadness tinged his leaf-green eyes. Is this the Tribe's fate? To fade away and conform to the Clans, like we never existed in the first place?

Firkit watched the older cat for a moment. He appeared a bit confused at first, but to her relief he seemed to ignore her issue. A toothy grin spread across her face as she stuck her paw out to mimic him. "Ight?" That was his name, right? She hoped she was close. The signal he did, holding his paw out in greeting, was a surprise to the almost deaf kitten. Something that didn't rely on sound! She liked it. Maybe he knew other signals, signs that would make it easier for her to communicate. She wanted to know! In her excitement she dropped into a play stance, her tail twitching. Maybe her brother wouldn't have to help her. She could do it all on her own!

Ight? But....I said my name....huh? Now Night was really confused; how could this kit not say something that had just been spoken to her? Then, all of a sudden, it hit him. Oh! That poor thing must not be able to hear. Huh, I've never met a deaf cat before...when my sister Snowflake was first born Stoneteller thought that she might be deaf because she was a white cat with blue eyes. Good thing she wasn't though.... Smiling sympathetically at the young she-kit, he noticed her seeming excitement about the traditional Tribe greeting. Hmm...something that doesn't take sound must be a miracle to her...let me try some more.

For a moment he was a bit confused about what he could do, but soon decided to try and signal to her his real name. Shaking his head no softly, he raised his tail to point at the sky, and in the kit's view blotted out the sun with his tail tip. Slowly, so she could read his mouth, he repeated; "My name is Night."