The Unknown [Closed]

Sweetkit's mother did not believe in Starclan.

It was something that Sweetkit had been wondering about as well. Her mother, with her desolate eyes and weary form, seemed to have lost all faith quite a bit ago but had smiled along and let everybody pretend she hadn't. Her father had always been the one to tell her the stories of the ghostly Starclan cats, how they warned leaders and Medicine Cats about terrible futures that were coming to the Clans. He told her that they were good cats and that sometimes, they would come down from Starclan to converse with the cats- even the ones that weren't leaders or Medicine Cats!

Sweetkit had asked if he had ever had anything like that happen to him. He had laughed and shaken his head no.

"Then how do you know they're real?" Sweetkit had wondered.

"I don't need to have one of them appear right in front of my face to believe in them," he has purred. "Every time I look up into Silverpelt, I know that they are there. Watching over us and protecting us."

"Why?" Sweetkit had asked, her youthful curiosity getting the better of her. At this, her father had laughed.

"Because they care about us," he had told her. "They care about us, and in return, we honor them."

Sweetkit had believed him when he had told her that. Brackenlark was such a strong, spiritual cat. When he spoke of Starclan, he spoke with reverence. Sweetkit had immediately known that she must do the same.

And yet, it seemed strange. Her father had trusted Starclan so much, and he was dead. Why had they let that happen to him? He had been such a great, spiritual cat, and he was dead.

When she had asked the elders about it, hoping to find some comfort in their words, they had simply told her that this was the way life was. She had tried to press them, desperate for answers that would assuage her grief, but they had quickly ended her train of questions with, "Life is unfair, Sweetkit. Even the best cats are no match for death. Sometimes, warriors are taken from us for seemingly no reason. That is just life."

Later, though, after most of the other elders were sleeping, one had approached her, sensing the anguish in the kits' soul.

"You are so young," she had said. "Too young to be thinking about things like this."

Sweetkit had stuck her chin out at this. "I'm not that little!" she had protested. "I'm bigger than some of the other kits in the nursery! And I already know lots of things."

The elderly she-cat had chuckled. "Of course, little one," she had answered, her tone full of fondness. "Kits are always so idealistic at your age. Can't wait to get out of the nursery, can you?"

Sweetkit had pouted a little at this, causing the Elder to laugh again. Her eyes softened, though, as she took in the small kit.

"I am sorry you have had to lose so much already," she murmured. "No kit should be forced to grow up. But just know that your father would be very proud of you. I promise he is watching you from Starclan as we speak."

"The other Queens say I am very mature and grown-up for my age!" Sweetkit had protested, the true meaning of the elderly queens' words slipping past her like fish through an apprentice's clumsy paw. Then, slightly shier, she had looked towards the ground and mumbled, "Do you really think he is proud of me?"

"I know he is," the she-cat had assured her, tone warm. Then, "Look, up above us."

Sweetkit had done as she was instructed and was faced with an image of the setting sky, its pale blues fading into the inky darkness of night. Above them, a few stars twinkled merrily.

"Do you see that star to the right? The biggest one?" the elder had inquired. Sweetkit nodded quickly, not taking her eyes off of it.

"I think that one is your father," the queen had purred. "Look how he's shining so brightly for you. He is trying to show you how proud he is."

Sweetkit had stared up in wonder. "Really?" she had breathed.

The elderly queen had chuckled again, a deep, wheezing sound full of fondness and amusement. "Yes, kit," she had answered. "Really. Now, go to your den. It's getting dark out and your mother must be missing you."

Sweetkit quickly followed the elders' advice, heading back to her den where her mother was no doubt sleeping. She did not say that she didn't think her mother would notice if she was there or not. It had seemed unnecessary.


As she had grown, though, Sweetkit had found she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it all. The other queens and warriors had assured her she didn't need to worry too much about it, but as she spent most of her time alone (or with her mother, which was basically the same thing) her thoughts would always fall back onto it. So many cats seemed to sure in their beliefs of Starclan, speaking of them with reverence and wonder. And Sweetkit wanted to believe, she really did.

Every night, she would wait until the very last second to go to bed, just to see her fathers' star come up. Every time, she would stare at it, shining so brightly. For me, her mind supplied. But every time, in the back of her mind, those same questions would rise again- was Starclan really there? If so, did they actually care about the clans? She thought her father would care about her, but she could never shake the feeling that, in the end, he didn't.

How could such a clan, powerful enough to control the weather as the elders said, even care about the clans? Didn't they have more important things to do?

So Sweetkit didn't know. She wished somebody would just tell her, instead of skirting around the topic like it was rotting prey. She was old enough to know, every cat she met had told her she was mature for her age. That was what made it so hard for her to get along with cats her age. So, why couldn't one of them just tell her?


OOC: If you want to interact with Sweetkit while she has her little crisis, then you should know that she is currently waiting outside of the den, watching Silverpelt come up and waiting, desperately, to see her father's star winking back at her.

Mikael had finally been allowed to leave the medicine den and had been encouraged to go play with other kits. He obeyed as much as he could have, at the very least going to the nursery, but playing with other kits had been hard. Anytime he tried, he just didn't quite have the same energy that the other kits seemed to. Even with their competitive games of mossball or wrestling, he would have interest for maybe five to ten minutes at a time before just letting them win so he could go be alone. He missed his siblings. He missed his mother. He missed his uncle. Mikael wasn't comfortable with sharing his emotions with anyone just yet, and anyone asking him about where he head come from got vague, generalized answers.

Sweetkit was not the only one too mature for her age. Mikael was five moons old and felt as though he had been an adult in just the passed week alone. He too had lost family... but it had been all of them in the matter of two sunrises. He padded out of the nursery, suddenly finding it a bit crowded and he needed fresh air. Sleep was an elusive thing lately. He slept only enough to be barely functional and then no more. It was the only way he knew how to keep the nightmares at bay.

His pale, sage-green eyes fell on Sweetkit as she stared at the sky. He moved away from her to give her some space rather than sit beside her. Or rather... he needed space. The cats in Riverclan had been friendly enough and he was grateful to Ivystar for allowing him to stay... but they still weren't his mother. Mikael sat down in silence and tried to follow Sweetkit's eyes to see what exactly she was staring at. He couldn't see anything remarkable, so instead of be rude, he decided to take a chance on trying to speak with her.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He whispered softly, trying not to disturb anyone else that might be sleeping.

Sweetkit blinked in surprise, turning to face the tan and white tom who had come to sit next to her. She recognized him faintly from the nursery, though she had never interacted with him before. She had heard the things cats said about him, though was not quite old enough to understand them. His name was Mikael, she remembered. She had thought his name was strange the first time she had heard it. It certainly didn't sound like any other clan cat names she had heard before.

Yet, looking into his sage-green eyes, Sweetkit could see a strange depth to them, one that she had seen mirrored in her own eyes when playing by the river on the edge of camp. She was usually not one to talk while she was waiting for her father to come up, but he was watching her expectantly in a way that made her sure she needed to answer.

"I'm just... waiting," she answered, before realizing that her reply was much too vague to offer any conclusive answers to his question. "Well- I'm waiting for the first stars of Silverpelt to come up, you see?" She continued. The tom didn't answer, so she swallowed and carried on.

"Somebody told me that- well, do you know my dad? Probably not, he's- well... he's dead." She laughed a little at this, but it was a sad, melancholic laugh, full of hurt. "B-but, anyway- one of the elders told me that, even though he's dead, he's looking down on me from Starclan- and she said that one of the stars that come up every evening- the big, shiny one- is him. S-so, I'm waiting for him to come up, so I can say goodnight and-" Sweetkit stopped, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Why would this stranger care about her father? "Sorry. I didn't mean to talk so much. I guess it's just been a while since-" she cut herself off again, silently cursing her rambling mouth.

Mikael wasn't going to press her for answers if she didn't want to give them, but she continued anyway. At the mention of her father being dead, his heart lurched in sympathy for her. His eyes softened. He looked again to where she was looking. He had a lot to learn about the clans. He only knew a little bit about them from his uncle and a lot of what he said sounded like a lie. Cats that could kill dogs? Cats that received nine lives from dead cats? Absurd! Mikael wasn't even sure the clans were real, yet here he was, now among them.

"No, no! It's alright please continue. I'm new to the clans... I'm actually not even sure what Silverpelt is. I'd like to hear more, if that's okay with you. I completely understand if you don't want to share though..." Especially since Mikael himself had no urge to share stories about himself. He was doing his best to try to move on, and it wasn't something he wanted to focus on.

Sweetkit blinked in surprise at the admission. She hadn't known that Mikael was an outsider- he certainly didn't seem like one. Sweetkit had always thought outsiders were not to be trusted, but Mikaels' eager attitude and quiet uncertainty softened her a bit.

"Oh- well, Silverpelt is when the night comes and all of the stars decorate the sky," she said. "The elders say that when cats in the clans die, they go to Starclan, and at night, they come out as stars." Sweetkit hesitated for a moment, before continuing, "They say that Starclan looks out after us. I always thought they did, too. My father said they did. But he was one of the best cats I've ever met, and Starclan let him die." Sweetkit studied the ground. "He was always so firm in his belief... but now I don't know anymore. If there is really a place where we all go when we die then- do they actually care about us? The elders say that Starclan is very powerful, but they didn't stop my father from being killed. So... I don't know what to think. I want to believe, I really do, but I just don't know." She stared at the ground for a moment, feeling silly. She hadn't meant to share so much, but Mikael had seemed actually interested when he asked her about the clans. It had been a long time since she had really talked to somebody else like this.

"A-anyway..." she might as well reanswer his original question, now that she had word-vomited all over him. Impulsive, she couldn't help but think. Brackenlark would have been proud of her for knowing it. His absence was like a sharp thorn, digging into her paw. She tried to ignore it before she spiraled any farther into her grief.

"I guess it won't hurt to pretend," she admitted. "So, that's why I wait out here every night. So I can see the star rise- my dad's star."

Mikael listened as she spoke, but a twinge of pain hid behind his otherwise curious expression. Cats in the clans... no one in my family was a clan cat. So where did they go? Do they just... disappear? He glanced down at his toes and let out a silent sigh. He forced those thoughts away for now, lest he succumb to the emotions threatening to make themselves known from his eyes. He couldn't speak for a moment, but she was right. If Starclan was so powerful, why did good cats die? He was relieved when she moved on to telling him that she was waiting for her dad's star.

"I want to see it too. When you see it, will you point it out to me?" It was a nice thing to think that cats who had passed on could still watch over their loved ones from the sky. Mikael might even try to believe that his mom, his siblings and Mocha were all up there too. His dad... his dad was probably alive, but he'd only ever seen the tom one time and then never again. He didn't seem too impressed with Mikael or any of his siblings, though he hadn't been rude either. He just ended up not being around.

"From what I understand about how the clans work, when you get your apprentice name you'll be... Sweetpaw?" He hoped he remembered that from Mocha's story correctly. He felt like he did, but if it would prevent too much silence from passing between the two then he'd keep asking questions. All of this talk of dead cats still being there even if you couldn't see them made the silence suddenly threatening.

Sweetkit was entirely prepared for a mumbled excuse as the cat next to her made a quick escape. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened- Sweetkit's ramblings could be a lot to take in. But the tan tom next to her didn't do any of that- he simply blinked up at her with his curious, willow green eyes and asked if she would show it to him.

His words were strangely vulnerable there, underneath the rising starlight. Who was Sweetkit to rebuff his simple request?

So, she nodded and pointed her muzzle up to where the star had just come up, already shining brightly. There was something strangely solemn about the silence, and Sweetkit almost didn't want to break it. But her fickle tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.

"It's that one," she confessed, her voice low. "The brightest one in the sky. The reason he's so bright is that he's proud of me." She hesitated then, for a moment, before dropping her eyes back to the ground. That same old doubt was already trickling in, poisoning her thoughts with vines full of thorns. "At least, that's what they told me."

Mikael didn't respond to that, his eyes fixed on the star. There was silence once more as they both considered what they knew. Finally, Mikael broke it, his question much lighter than the topic previous. It seemed they were moving on. Sweetkit was fine with that; she wasn't in the mood to think any more about Starclan or her father.

Mikael's question was innocent enough. He really didn't know that much about the clans, then. Sweetkit nodded. She felt suddenly obligated to fill him in, a strange sense of kinship working its way through her soul.

"Yes," she said softly. "And after that, I'll get my warrior name. Warrior names are special because they're all different. My mother's name is Lilysnow. I've always thought that was a pretty name."

Brackenlark had been a pretty name, too, in some way. Sweetkit didn't dare utter it, though, suddenly not wanting to return to the previous topic. She liked this easy conversation- how she could ramble all she wanted and the other tom would just listen, nodding along and asking questions. It made her feel better, somehow.

A thought occurred to her. "What do think your name will be?" she asked. "When you become an apprentice with me, I mean. You are becoming an apprentice, right? I think it would be more fun if I had a friend to train with."

She pointed out her father's star and Mikael leaned in closer to her to see exactly which one she meant. Still, the brightest star was self explanatory. He smiled and nodded, satisfied that he knew what she was talking about now. He would honor that tradition then, if it was so important to her. If any older cat told her to go to bed before saying goodnight to her dad, he would politely step in for her and explain to them that she was doing something important. He would take on the responsibility himself to see that they went to bed after she said goodnight to her dad's star. He hoped the older cats would trust him with that responsibility. He would honor it honestly.

Then Sweetkit began to talk about warrior names and their uniqueness. He couldn't quite remember the name of the forest cat that Mocha said he met... and Mocha had a hard time remembering names too. He probably got it wrong in the story.

"I don't know... I don't think Mikael is an animal... or a thing at all. It's just... a noise I guess, that supposed to get my attention." Then again, isn't that what all names were? "Maybe Ivystar will just call me Mikaelpaw and then maybe Michael... uh..." He glanced at himself as if he'd find an answer somewhere. The only thing that really stood out, at least to him, were that both of his two inner toes on his forepaws were black. "...Mikaeltoes?" He craned his head to look at his back. His mom had always commented that his markings stood out. Pure white in a sea of tans and caramel colors.... "Mikaelback? I don't know. It probably won't be as good as yours or anyone else's."

He shrugged, indifferent as to what his name would be. It seemed so far away now anyway. "My dad's name was Aztec and my mom's name was Oracle... I have no idea what those are either." He was from a different world. Trying to predict anything in this new one was more than just a challenge for the kit.

Sweetkit listened with a strange fascination as Mikael spoke. She had never been very interested in learning about the lives of cats outside the clans. She knew they existed, of course- the Elders liked to tell stories about their warrior days, after all. Mostly, though, they spoke of rouges as dangerous and uncivilized. Yet, Mikael didn't seem anything like that.

There were kittypets, too, but as far as she had heard, they were soft and lazy, lounging around in two-leg homes and yowling for food. They never went hungry. Selfish, she had thought when the elders first told her. I could never be like that.

But Mikael didn't seem like that at all. He was quiet and thoughtful, not to mention the fact that he was here in the first place. She wondered, suddenly, what he was doing here. He was just a kit, like her, after all. She blinked at him, opening her mouth to speak, but then closing it as he thought out loud.

Sweetkit could only hum in soft agreement as he spoke, deciding to keep her thoughts to herself. Sometimes, when she asked questions, the older cats would snap at her. "So presumptuous," one had told her once, and though she didn't quite know what that word meant, she could assume it wasn't good. So she simply let Mikael talk for a moment.

She couldn't hold back and snort of laughter as he spoke of names. Mikaelback? she thought. I've never heard a warrior name like that before.

Her heart warmed in surprise at his words- It probably won't be as good as yours or anyone else's. He didn't seem like he cared, really, but it was hard to tell with him. Still, the praise was enough to make her sit up straighter. It seemed like it had been a long time since she had been praised for anything, and though it probably wasn't meant to be, it felt like approval.

He told Sweetkit his parents' names, and she blinked in surprise. She had never heard those names, either. Then again, she hadn't heard of 'Mikael' before, either.

"I've never heard of a warrior name like that," she confessed when he finished speaking, her voice warm. "Mikaelback." Then, without waiting for him to reply, she quickly asked, "Do you like your name?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard as well. It was a silly question- who didn't like their name? But she still glanced at him with some worry in her eyes. What if he thought her stupid for asking it? She felt stupid for asking it. Quickly, she tried to save herself.

"I just meant- well, everybody likes their name, of course? Or, at the very least, they're proud of it. I like my name, and when I get a warrior name I'll be proud of it!... I think. And anyway, I was just asking because Ivystar might change it to something else more warrior-like, but I bet if you really like it, then you could probably... you could maybe ask Ivystar to keep it o-or..."

She was rambling again, slowly digging herself deeper into a hole. She slouched in on herself, pulling her tail around her legs and trying not to let her embarrassment show. She was such a mouse-brain!


(OOC- Mikaelback- like Nickleback haha. Also, sorry it's taken me a bit to get back to you.)

Mikael thought about whether or not he liked his name. His eyes slid downward and stared at the ground. His ears flattened out until they were on either side of his head as a thought came to him. Mikael was the name his mother gave him... and she was gone now. "I like my name I guess, but I wouldn't mind if it was changed." The more he thought about it, the more he realized maybe it should be changed. It wasn't a bad name, just had bad memories associated with it.

He was a Riverclan cat now... he should adopt a new name for his new life. Maybe it would help him eventually forget what he saw. There was doubt immediately in his head, however. He had come to the clan covered in blood that wasn't his own... all because he hadn't been paying attention. His uncle died all because he didn't see the dog in time.

There was no way he was going to forget that.

"I think I might... try to get some sleep. Sorry I just haven't slept well in a few days and I'm trying to catch up." He hoped she wouldn't be offended. It was true that he hadn't slept well, but he had a suspicion that it wouldn't come easily tonight either. He looked over at her dad's star again. "What was your dad's name?"

When Mikael spoke again, Sweetkit was entirely prepared to scamper away, whether driven by words of confusion or dismissal, or with a blank stare, the one she had gotten used to on her mothers' face. But the words spoken by Mikael were nothing like that. Perhaps she should have expected that. Mikael wasn't really like the other cats.

She was surprised to hear that he wouldn't mind if his name was changed. Sweetkit couldn't imagine losing the first part of her name. The other parts were expected, but her prefix- "Sweet"- felt too important, too constant to lose.

Mikael's voice interrupted her thoughts as he spoke, telling her that he was going to try and sleep. Sweetkit nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show. She had really enjoyed talking to the tom, and she didn't really want to go to bed yet. But he was right- it was getting dark anyway, and the other queens didn't like it when she stayed out late. Besides, sitting out here, alone with her thoughts, wasn't quite so appealing. It was still quite cold after all.

She didn't have time to reply, though, before he asked her, an edge of shyness to his voice, "What was your dad's name?"

Sweetkit blinked in surprise at the tom, whose eyes were set upon her fathers' star far above her, still shining brightly. She suddenly wasn't sure what to say, a feeling that she wasn't quite familiar with. She blinked again, swallowed, and looked away.

"Brackenlark," she murmured. "His name was Brackenlark."

The moment felt much heavier than it should've been. Sweetkit found that she couldn't look at the tom anymore, though she didn't quite know why.

So, instead, she spoke. "You're right," she murmured. "I should get to bed as well." She stood, shaking her pelt out once, still unable to look at him. "I need some rest, too."

She turned, quickly, before he had a chance to reply, slipping into the den. Before she tiptoed over to where her mother was sleeping in her soft nest, though, her curiosity finally got the best of her. She turned, quickly, eyes catching in the light.

Outside, she could just barely see him, staring up at the star, his lithe body silhouetted against the darkening sky. Sweetkit watched him, for a moment more, before snapping her eyes away and going to lay next to her mother in their shared nest.

She didn't sleep much that night.



OOC- Sorry this took so long to reply to! Life got suddenly very busy, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed RPing with me. I certainly did with you. Would love to interact more with Mikael, he seems very interesting! Sweetkit should be becoming an apprentice very soon.

Mikael wondered if he had said something wrong by her reaction. His toes tensed and his ears flattened out on either side of his head. Oh crud, what did I do? He sighed quietly to himself as she retreated inside. She was done for the night... he hadn't meant to end it on negative terms. He'd try to talk to her tomorrow. Maybe she'd be better. His eyes traveled to the star and he stared at it, feeling unsure of himself again. Maybe this was just part of his new life, talking to stars and whatnot.

"Well... uh... Good night, sir." He muttered to the star. Yeah... that was... going to take some getting used to. He slipped into the nursery quietly and didn't look at Sweetkit again. If she wanted to be left alone he wasn't going to push the issue. He stepped over several other sleeping kits and retreated to the back corner of the nursery by himself. Quietly needing the ground until it was about as soft as he wanted it, he lie down and balled up tightly, shielding his face with a paw.

He didn't have a mom to curl up with like Sweetkit had. Not anymore. Still, he felt that if he tried settling in with one of the other litters it wouldn't be welcomed. Though Mikael did feel tired, he too experienced another night of nearly no rest.

OOC: No big deal! And thanks! I hope we have more threads with these two! They'd be entertaining together as apprentices I think!