Fables of the forest

Dappleleaf lay beside the fresh-kill pile, a half-eaten squirrel between her paws. She slowly chewed it, glad that in someway her age had been kind to her; her teeth were still plenty strong enough to eat her favourite prey. Once her meal was finished (which didn't take long - she was only small, and didn't need that much to keep her full), she searched for another cat to talk to. She was in the mood for story-telling, something she had always enjoyed doing. Even as an apprentice, she would tell stories to everyone, but mostly to Doeskip and her fathers. On many occasions they had all told her that she talked far too much, and it was probably to their further annoyance that the stories tended to not be entirely truthful. But she stayed where she was, waiting for someone to approach her. She had learned over her many seasons that cats usually enjoyed hearing stories that they seemed out, rather than ones that were thrust upon them.

Juggling Darkpaw’s training and her brand-new warrior duties had proven to be exhausting. Every moment she spent awake went toward hunting, sparring, planning lessons. Thrushnose’s paws had been lagging since her vigil. On top of that, Eaglefang’s words had wormed their way into her ears, creeping out at the first hint of silence. She needed a break. As she dragged herself into camp, a freshly-caught bird dangling from her mouth, she found one in the form of an old, dappled she-cat relaxing near the fresh-kill pile. Helping Pinefrost sneak spiders into certain older brothers’ nests meant she’d spent quite a bit of her apprenticeship in the elders’ den. Fortunately, though she hated the mouse bile, she didn’t mind the elders themselves. In the early days of her training, when the marks on her back had been as bright as a robin’s chest, she’d taken refuge in their stories. All the bravest warriors had scars. Now…well. She hadn’t outgrown the elders yet. Thrushnose padded over, calling, ”Dappleleaf!” in a muffled voice. She laid the bird in the dirt, flopping down beside it a heartbeat later. ”I brought—“ Her gaze landed on the remains of a squirrel between Dappleleaf’s paws. ”Oh.”

"Oh, it's fine my dear, I've already eaten. But thank you for the offer." Dappleleaf said kindly. She appreciated the she-cat's gesture, even if she was too full at that moment for more fresh kill. Thrushnose wasn't an unusual face in the elder's den, especially during her apprenticeship. The pale tabby warrior seemed to enjoy the stories that the den provided, and lucky for her that was just what the elderly she-cat had in mind. "Haven't seen you in a while, Thrushnose. How's being a warrior going? Come for advice from your little old lady friend?" she said jokingly, but both Thunderclanners knew that it was probably true. Even though she wasn't that old, the mottled she-cat enjoyed watching the young warriors and apprentices get on with their lives, only interfering to advise or help them out.

After a moment’s consideration, Thrushnose pulled the bird close and took a bite, chewing contemplatively. If she planned to stay with Dappleleaf for a while—and she did, as long as she was welcome—she might as well make sure her fresh-kill wouldn’t go to waste. Besides, she’d need the energy for the rest of the day. She swallowed. “It’s…busy. Really, really busy. I like being a warrior, but…” With a shrug, she trailed off. Dappleleaf’s tone turned joking as she asked if Thrushnose had come here looking for advice. “Only if you have some.” As the tabby spoke, a knowing smile crept across her face; Dappleleaf was the sort of cat who always had a story on the tip of her tongue. Part of why Thrushnose liked her so much, honestly. Though the subject matter was different, it reminded her of the tales her parents had told her during her not-so-distant kithood. She sat a little straighter, tilting her head in clear expectation.

Unsurprised by the young she-cats response, Dappleleaf thought of her her story. With stories often came important lessons, even if the were lessons that Thrushnose knew well. "Well, if you insist," she said, laughing slightly. Then her story began. "Once upon a time, there was a small group of cats that arrived in the forest." It was a tale that many had told and listened to, a tale as old as time. After settling herself into a more comfortably position, she continued. "Some say they came from the mountains, from a distant Tribe. The tale tells of a small, brave and kind group of cats. They had to learn to work with the cats that already lived there, and only the strongest survived, sadly. But five cats were the strongest of all. Their names were Thunder, Sky, Shadow, Wind and River." Over the years, as the stories had passed by word of mouth, they had changed. Each time they were passed to a new generation, the more mystical it became. This made her add something on the end. "They went on to create - and be the first leader - of their each respective clans. But remember, Thrushnose, these cats were just like you and me, or anyone for that matter. Even though they formed the clans we rely on now, they didn't do it without the help of their friends and family. But bravery and loyalty held them together, just like it holds together our clan."

"Well, on with the story," she had chosen it because of how much she loved to tell it. "At first, they fought many, many vicious battles against each other. Cats were lost to everything, as they only had a few cats with minimal healing skills. But one great battle brought it to an end. One side was heavily outnumbered, and it was kin against kin. StarClan, or their ancestors as they hadn't fully formed clans yet, intervened - they had decided enough was enough. And that was the basis of the warrior code." She paused, stopping briefly for breath.

Hoping that the young warrior was still interested, she soon started again. "As their numbers grew, the groups broke up, but their bond stayed strong. In my opinion, stronger than they are now. I feel as if we have drifted too much from each other." Now she was getting a bit off topic, so she stopped herself. "Anyway, thats just my opinion," she said with a little laugh. "Our clans our what they are thanks to not only these cats, but generations of contributions from others. Each rule carries its own tale with it, but some have been lost to time." There, she thought, end on a bang! Maybe she was a little over dramatic with her stories, but the youngin's seemed to enjoy it.