Alone in the Crowd, Solitude in the Loud [CLOSED]

Mistwalker lay on a rock in camp. As usual, he'd gone on dawn patrol, and didn't have another until much later in the day. No cat really talked to him other than nods in passing, really, so he was in solitude even in camp. But that was okay. Mistwalker didn't quite fancy talking to cats all day, and being alone in his thoughts gave him time to focus. And now was just that time. It was near Sunhigh, and a hunting patrol was bound to return sometime soon. He began to groom himself for the third time. One could never have their fur too neat.

Dacepaw raced from the apprentice's den, her plume of a tail raised high and waving with excitement. She had spent her morning on nest duty from the elder's den to the nursery to, at last, her and her companions' nests in the apprentice den. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't taken extra special care with Emberheart's, using soft, downy feathers from her own blue-bird that she had caught, and she'd be double lying if she said she hadn't given a little bit of extra moss to her friends. Her duties were done, however they were accomplished, and as she left the den behind she realized eagerly that the morning hunting patrol would return soon. Dacepaw loved to see what they brought, though she knew very well not to eat anything from the pile until she'd been out on a hunting patrol herself.

The patrol wasn't returned yet - the meager pile still sat, getting leaner by the minute - but Dacepaw couldn't be discouraged. A silvery-blue tabby-tom rested in the clearing, grooming his already glinting, sleek fur. Her own pelt was ruffled with a few flecks of moss or feather down here and there. The dilute tortoiseshell made her way towards him, trying to remember the tom's name. She knew she'd heard it before in passing, probably on patrols, but the memory eluded her. Oh well! Not knowing someone's name just meant a chance to get to know them better! "Hi hi, good morning!" Dacepaw purred brightly, sitting herself in front of the warrior. Her big, round green eyes met with his own gaze, and she asked, "Can I groom with you?"

Mistwalker was startled by the sudden movement, and the apprentice was quite quick and eager. He'd never seen a cat do apprentice duties so enthusiastically. She was a hopeful young cat - he could see it in her eyes and demeanor. He wondered when that would change. Of course, he was still a young warrior. His own warrior ceremony had occurred not even a full 6 moons ago. "Hello, and good morning to you as well." It wasn't a bad morning, he supposed. "Of course." He responded. Having some company ought to be a good change.

The tom seemed ever so slightly surprised by her appearance, jolting up a bit as she had called out to him. The apprentice gave him her usual reassuring, disarming smile, and then he nodded back and greeted her pleasantly enough. The instant that the warrior gave Dacepaw permission to join him she practically threw herself to the ground, flopping onto her side as she squeaked, "Yay! Thanks!" The thick-furred tortoiseshell flicked out one of her forelegs and began to wash along the length of it, starting near her shoulder and working out towards her paw. After a few moments, Dacepaw looked over at the bold silvery tom. "I like your stripes," she told him in a warm, admiring voice. Almost immediately, she added, "What's your name? I haven't talked to you yet. I hope that's okay!"

Mistwalker was entirely convinced that the apprentice was no ordinary cat. She had showed up from Riverclan a while ago, though he hadn't bothered to get this one's name. And unafraid to say what she thought. A valuable asset, cats like these. They nearly seemed to lend their energy to the cats around them, and honestly it was refreshing from the recent monotone of life. "Oh. Thank you. I like your pelt pattern as well." He supposed it did seem quite unique, after all. "The name I was given is Mistwalker. What is yours?"

Dacepaw attentively listened to the warrior speak as she continued to lick her leg; he complimented her fur and a beaming grin lit up her round face. She remembered what her mother had said to Duskpaw and thought cheekily, as if practicing for a future conversation, Thanks, I grew it myself! The apprentice was tickled by the joke in her head and wriggled her whole body with joy. Mistwalker introduced himself then and Dacepaw's tufted ears perked as she tried to commit it to memory. Mistwalker... Must be because of his pretty misty fur! Dacepaw thought, and then the tom asked her name.

"I'm Dacepaw!" the pale tortoiseshell proclaimed cheerily. The way he'd said it was funny, she realized. "Do you like your name?" she asked curiously.

Mistwalker was utterly surprised by the question. "Nice to meet you, Dacepaw." He groomed his tail fur. It always got caught in things like brambles. "I... don't know. I certainly don't dislike it. Why? Do you dislike your name?" An odd question from an odd cat, indeed. He had to admit, though - It was not a bad change.

Mistwalker regarded Dacepaw curiously after she asked her question, but she thought nothing of it. He'd simply introduced himself oddly, and she wanted to see if she could find out why. She'd heard that Oakstar was once a tom named Marshstorm, and so the idea of a name one was called versus a name they were didn't seem too strange. However, the warrior explained the he didn't dislike his name, and then he asked what she felt about hers. Dacepaw smiled and answered, "Oh, no, I like it a lot - it reminds me of my momma. She always calls me her little minnow. Was it weird getting used to your warrior name? Who picked it?"

Somehow, Mistwalker was never ready for the next question. "I suppose it was. Some cats still called me Mistpaw for a few sunrises afterwards. Oakstar picked my name - Mist and walker, I believe. He's my Leadad- my father, after all." He explained. Did Dacepaw even know that?

Dacepaw was enthralled by Mistwalker's answer, seemingly oblivious to his confusion and mild discomfort. She nodded agreeably; it made sense that cats might struggle to adjust after using one name for so long. He explained that Oakstar had chosen it, and Dacepaw nodded fervently again. Of course he had, he was the leader! In fact, the warrior shared the same thought process as the apprentice. He referred to Oakstar as his Leadad and immediately the tortoiseshell perked up from grooming her chest. "Oakystar's your dad?" she asked with a gasp, and she examined Mistwalker's pelt again as if trying to imagine if his stripes matched the older tom's.

Mistwalker nearly laughed then and there at the excitement and obliviousness of Dacepaw, but managed to keep his face relatively neutral. "Yes, he is in fact my dad. Who's yours?" He doubted he would recognise the name; He didn't know many Riverclanners.

Well, truthfully, it was almost as exciting as when she had learned that Houndpaw's father was Beartooth, the Clan's deputy. Dacepaw watched with great interest as Mistwalker casually confirmed that, yes, Oakstar was his father. The silver-blue tabby asked who her father was, and she felt a small knot form in her tummy despite her outward joy at the opportunity to speak of him. "My daddy's name is Sparkfrost!" Dacepaw proclaimed brightly. "He brought me to ThunderClan over a moon ago, but then he had to stay in the medicine den because StarClan was getting him ready to go on a journey." There was a sparkle of sadness in her green-hazel gaze that she tried to ignore. She finished proudly, "He left because he's gonna save the forest."