The young shall learn. [c]

Fernkit sat quietly in the company of his mother, wrapped softly between her fur and the nest. His sleepy grey face pressed against her pillowy white paw, matching his freckles. The other kits were chattering together nearby, but far enough that his sensitive ears could rest. Their conversations didn’t excite him at the moment.

The very young kitten rolled onto his back as his green gaze drifted toward Pineblossom's face. She was watching the rest of the litter since that was her job as their mother. Fernkit wondered what she had done before she was a mother. She must have helped the clan in some way like all adults do. His memory suggested the precise word he had heard Pineblossom once be referred to as. Warrior. What did it mean? What did a warrior do? Fernkit parted his tiny maw to ask, "Mom, what’s a warrior?"

His eyes gleamed while Pineblossom answered as well and clearly as he wanted her to. “Thank you,” he mewed with a gleeful smile. The information made rounds in his head. I think that all makes sense, he thought with satisfaction. Kittens learn to become warriors, then warriors teach kittens, and the cycle continues. Excitement filled Fernkit’s small tabby tail, making it wag. “My mentor will answer all of my questions?” he wanted to confirm. The kitten made a note in his head to tell his siblings this exciting information as soon as he could. But at that moment his mind was busy considering something else Pineblossom had said.

Fernsnow… That was the same color as his white markings if he remembered correctly, so that name seemed like it would fit the best out of the examples given. He quietly thought of more possibilities. Fernfur, Fernwhisper, Fernthinker. Maybe he could help Leopardstar choose the right name. Wait… “Why does Leopardstar get to choose my suffix? Shouldn’t me or you get to decide?” And what did blossom mean? Was it because her face bloomed like a white flower? He wasn’t sure, so he asked again, “What does your suffix mean? Why did Leopardstar choose -blossom?”

He suddenly felt as though he had opened up a hidden box of knowledge, knowledge that only led to more wondering. Did other cats have previous names too? Did that mean Fernkit could also have his name changed if he didn’t feel it suited him? And then there was the mystery of Nightstar: What happened to him? How did Leopardstar take his place? And of course, why did he choose Pineblossom as her new name? Despite the sad roundness to his mother’s face, Fernkit’s expression only brightened with enthusiasm. He needed answers and the quickest way was to ask, but the she-cat carried on before he could part his maw. By the time she finished the other kittens had returned to hoard her attention. It seemed his personal time with her had ended.

[Approximately a month later.]

The night felt breezy and the moon was crisp. Not a single owl to be heard, just the sound of wind rustling pine trees. A kitten’s striped little face scrunched ever so slightly as he gazed upon the camp clearing that he had just explored for the first time. The tom-kit had learned many things, but his mind still overflowed with questions and curiosity. He tried to figure out as much as he could on his own, but it was difficult to stick to a single theory. Hmm... Maybe I need Mom’s help. A sudden gust shifted the bits of bramble stuck to his dark fur, prodding his skin and causing him to flinch. Yes, I definitely could use her help.

Fernkit stood and searched for his mother. His white-tipped paws were careful not to kick any pine needles as he trodded over to her. His tone was not bright, nor was his maw bearing a smile, but his swamp-green eyes shined with excitement. “Mom, why are there so many dens? I counted at least five besides our own.” Fernkit had been the first of his litter to learn to count, a fact that he proudly reminded Wolfkit whenever he made him feel dumb. “Are they each for a specific kind of cat? I think that I know who belongs to some of them, but I want to check if I am correct.” Some seemed to be used purely for sleeping. Another housed distractingly strong smells that matched a medicine cat. One was for Elders, which are old cats, as he had learned. And then there was a burrow under the roots of a big oak tree. It had one nest, supposedly making it a den for only a single cat. That made very little sense to Fernkit, so he was eager to piece together this weird, nonsensical puzzle with Pineblossom's wisdom. “Is there a reason everyone can’t simply sleep together? Isn’t it safer and warmer that way, too?” he theorized while subtly trying to pick out the burrs in his shoulder.