encyclopedia of thoughts and prayers [c]

Feral language
Forest language

The journey was getting to be much longer and drawn out that Vinecrawler had anticipated. Stretched out under the overhand of a rock to stay dry from the oncoming rain, he couldn't help but make eye contact with an apprentice who seemed rather lost. Beckoning the poor thing to share the overhang with him to stay dry, he waited for the young molly to take rest before speaking. Though he didn't speak in the forest tongue, already assuming Quailprowler had taught her apprentice to converse in feral. "Where is your mentor? Surely Quailprowler didn't send you out in this rain?"

While the rest of the cats were resting, some warrioir had asked Silverpaw to run a fools errand. Now here she was scurrying back and forth amongst the boulders and rubble, looking more lost than a kittypet on clan territory. Her pelt was sodden to the core, but they didn’t want to mope back to whatshisface and say “sorry your friend… ummm… whatsherface is nowhere to be found.” Somehow that just didn’t seem the best course of action. Getting drenched until she caught green cough, was much more preferable than embarrassing herself in front of a warrior as a new apprentice. They would never live down the shame.
That was when Silverpaw’s sharp eyes met Vinecrawler’s.

Silverpaw hardly knew the tom, only his name, but perhaps he would save them from this mousebrained task. With little hesitation, the silver molly bounded over to Vinecrawler’s overhang. Safe from the rain’s onslaught, Silverpaw tucked her limbs up be neath her and laid down, turning her gaze towards the older cat. Vinecrawler began to speak, but Silverpaw couldn’t make tail from head of what he was saying. They frowned, brow furrowed. “erm…” she paused, mulling over what to say next “yes?” Silverpaw smiled hoping that was the right response, but almost instantly they could tell that was not the correct answer. Embarrassment rushed through her, which quickly turned to annoyance at herself for their stupid answer.”Sorry. I don’t speak squirrel.” they snapped.

deep breath, Silverpaw. Maybe don’t go insulting warriors when you mess up?

“That came out wrong.” she corrected, steadying themself. “I don’t understand what you said. Any of it.” Silverpaw dipped her head, hoping Vinecrawler understood she hadn’t meant to snap, and to please not chuck then out into the rain to run circles after some other cat.

Feral language
Forest language

...Yes? Yes what? His brow arched in question, not returning the apprentices smile that had turned into annoyance just as quickly. A deep grumbled sounded in his chest, displeased to hear his fellow feral-blooded apprentice speak so ill of the language. That answered his question, then. Quailprowler had failed to teach Silverpaw a speck of the heritage. Though, he was one to talk - he hadn't spoken to his own apprentice since the failed training left the smaller tom crippled. Part of him felt as though he should have put him out of his misery then and there, but they were too far into ThunderClan for it to be seen as the mercy it would have been.

The cold air turned his huff into a puff of smoke as Silverpaw broke the silence again, this time with an apology. "It was my own fault for assuming." Not so much of a return apology as it was voicing his disappointment that she didn't understand a single word. However, he could change that here and now. "Whoever sent you out in this weather could use a lashing or two! Make better use of this time: I will teach you what your mentor has failed to. Sit. Sit!" His sandy tail flicked to a dry spot next to him. If anyone chose to apprach him about keeping an apprentice from some silly made up duty, he would gladly lay them flat in the dirt. Repeat after me: 'Hello, what's your name?' Which would be 'Hello, what is your name?' in the feral tongue. You would answer with: 'My name is Silverpaw, what's your name?' Or 'My name is Silverpaw, what is your name?' Now repeat."

feral language
forest language

Vinecrawler’s disapproving growl told Silverpaw exactly what her words had done. oops. She sagged her shoulders abashedly, not wanting to meet his amber gaze. She felt even worse when Vinecrawler slighted her mentor ”Quailprowler hasn’t failed to teach me anything! we’re doing important lessons, like battle training.” they replied defensively, still she shuffled closer to the sandy tom heeding his request. Despite Silverpaw’s wounded pride for Quailprowler, she wasn’t too proud to refuse a lesson. Everything she learnt would count.

Oh. The feral tongue, that’s what he was speaking in. Silverpaw felt a lot worse about her response now, but thankful Vinecrawler hadn’t swatted at her for their ignorance. “I didn’t realise…” she said softly, meeting his eyes. The tom continued with his explanation, and Silverpaw concentrated hard on how he spoke in the feral language, and the slight accent to it. The apprentice rolled their tongue around their mouth trying to get a feel for the language before speaking “Hello… my name is… Silverpaw. What’s… your name?” meowed Silverpaw uncertainly, cringing as she spoke. The feral accent seemed lower than her usual voice, and they couldn’t help but notice their own bad pronounciation. “I will do better.” she sucked in a breath ”Hello, my name is Silverpaw. What’s your name?” she finished more confidentally.

Feral language
Forest language

Battle training was important, he would give her that. Vinecrawler noted that the apprentice seemed to have a fine relationship with her mentor as well, a strong enough one to be angry for Quailprowler when she wasn't even around. He found that to be kind of sweet, actually. He couldn't recall if his relationship had been that strong with Thrushnose, but if anyone had spoken ill of him he might just swipe their ears.

Patiently, the large tom watched Silverpaw practice rolling her tongue with foreign sounds before slowly sounding them all out. He nodded at each uncertain pause, encouraging her to keep going no matter how slow or broken it all sounded. She was still learning, and he was more than patient when it came to teaching others his heritage. He smiled at her determination to try it again more quickly and with a more fluid pronunciation, a purr to cheer her on. Wonderful! It warmed his feral heart to see a young cat interested in even trying to understand him and his kin. Maybe Quailprowler would even thank him for it later.

He shifted his body to fully face the apprentice, now emersed in their little language session. The next step was simple names for various predators and prey, choosing not to launch into a heavy session on the first day to an apprentice that wasn't even his to care for. He planted the seed for new knowledge, and hoped it would blossom in the care of Silverpaw's true mentor. "Do not be so harsh on yourself for not sounding like you've known the language since leaving the womb. Practice the basics for when we meet again, because I will speak to you in my father's tongue and not of the forest. I suggest prodding Quailprowler for more if you are truly interested. Though if you want to learn anything about my religion, it would be me you would need to ask."

Vinecrawler’s comments earned a toothy grin from Silverpaw, his encouragement helped ease the tension that had built up before, and she found herself warming up to his company, even if the tom intimidated her a little. They were clanmates and so they had nothing to truly fear from Vinecrawler, expect a reprimand - which hadn’t even been that harsh if they thought about it. The warrior was just blunt and to the point with his words, like the apprentice was. Silverpaw’s eyes shone appreciatively, as Vinecrawler continued the lesson, finding that the nouns and names came faster to her than the simple greeting phrase had. “Thank you, Vinecrawler.” they meowed blinking. ”I will practice, I look forward to our next lesson once I am more fluent.”

Her ears pricked and they cocked their head at the mention of Vinecrawler’s religion. Was StarClan not  the only higher being? How was he a warrior if he did not follow the stars? The apprentice could make tail from ear of it, no one had ever clued her into the presence of others aside from StarClan. It seemed Quailprowler knew of this religion too, but did not follow it from how Vinecrawler spoke. If Quailprowler did not follow his religion was there even any merit to it? She had chose StarClan why hadn’t he? Silverpaw’s mind burned with questions, and curiosity. “I would like to know of your religion.” she meowed quietly, gazing intently up at Vinecrawler, eager to satisfy her curiosity.

The sandy warrior nodded with approval, glad that his lessons had some impact on the young apprentice. "Whenever you wish to continue, I will be available to you. Do not hesitate to ask me or Quailprowler. Neither of us should be too busy to say no."

Onto the topic of religion, Vinecrawlers brow raised in slight surprise. One so young hadn't been fully set into StarClan...? Not that he was here to convert anyone. That would always be up to them. But he was always happy to share. "My ancestors all prowl the forest of Gekala, three gods leading them through birth, life, and finally death: God of Life - the Sun, God of Now - the Earth, and the God of Death - the Moon. They work in harmony in different aspects of ones life, never truly holding your paw, but instead guiding you with their presence.

The Sun gives you the very soul that inhabits your body and is only present in birth.

The Now is here in every little thing you can see, hear, and touch. Always reminding you that - if you take some time for yourself to listen - you are never alone. This is who watches your every action - good or bad - before handing you off to the Moon.

The Moon can only be seen on the brink of death as it comes to judge where to take your soul, or whether or not it is truly your time.

In the end, you are given the choice between being reborn to try again or to remain in Gekala as an eternal afterlife amongst kin. Gekala rests at the very center of all three gods, every aspect of your life recorded for the endless forest that will greet you should you be granted eternal peace. Should you be unworthy, however... You will be met with neither rebirth nor eternal peace. Your soul will remain as it is, forever suspended in limbo left to your own thoughts. Alone. Forever."

Silverpaw listened intently, ears and body turned to wards the large sandy warrior. Gekala… Her tail twitched thoughtfully as she pondered what he had said. Vinecrawler had answered many of their questions, but she still felt like she more. Questions specifically related to the betrayal Silverpaw felt by StarClan. She wished nothing more than to devoutly trust Silverpelt and the warriors that inhabited it, but she would not follow cats that had sent them scaling mountains and onslaughts of rain as they starved in their name. This… Whatever was transpiring wishing the forest was not the work of a benevolent higher power.

“And do the Gods you speak of control the weather or the prey we eat? And how come you don’t follow StarClan? Did you not undertake the journey to the moonstone?” the apprentice fired the questions of quickly, inching forward to hear whatever Vinecrawler had to say, if he would even indulge their more pressing and personal questions. Silverpaw wasn’t trying to be discredit his religion if it came across to him that way, it was all genuine curiosity. This was her first time hearing of Gekala, and in part they hoped it wouldn’t be their last.

Feral language
Forest language

A chuckle vibrated his chest at the apprentices eagerness on full display. "Unlike the temperamental gods of StarClan, mine do not control the weather. You are at the mercy of nature, and are expected to survive on your own without interference." He heard stories of StarClan's wrath of lightning at gatherings when things didn't go their way. He found it very odd that no fighting was allowed at such a mass gathering, yet anywhere else there was no sign of them. Fickle. "My father, Hank, followed in the pawsteps of Gekala from the far away island he was taken from. The way he spoke of the Three Gods with true faith was inspiring and I chose to follow that path as well; I am happier than ever where I am. One day, they will greet me in the lush forests of Gekala with open claws. To feast joyously with my kin should I so choose. And I look forward to that. No hunger, no sickness, no boredom. True spars whenever you wanted with no penalties... I find that to be bliss." An eyebrow raised at the question of a Moonstone. Had there ever been an option not to go...? "Of course I had my journey. Though I was not met with these... Ancestors that were spoken of. Instead, I dreamed of the beautiful white sands that separated lush, green forest from the bluest body of water that stretched out forever. My father had referred to it as the 'Ocean'... He said it was an eternal summer there and endless spaces to explore.

In a way it seemed the gods of Gekala were more merciful than StarClan. They did not control what was happening to the clans, and so they could not interfere. StarClan she knew could change it. Despite being raised in belief of StarClan, Silverpaw had doubted them, and their intentions for some time. They could not fathom the idea of following beings that did not care for how she suffered, how her clanmates suffered, how the entire forest suffered. And it was all their doing. Why would she follow that? Gekala on the otherhand, it seemed more free than StarClan and their rules. A single misstep could StarClan forgive us you to the dark forest, but Gekala? You were offered the option to try again, to redeem yourself. It was more than the starry cats in the sky seemed to offer.

Silverpaw felt conflicted, between their own strong moral beliefs, the beliefs that had been instilled in her since birth, and now the revelation that there were other choices, other religions. Ones, that in their own way were far more benevolent than StarClan. They were asking a lot of questions, but Silverpaw had things to figure out that before today they hadn’t realised needed to be focused on. “That sounds nice,” she meowed eventually, because it did. An endless enteral forest where there was nothing to fear. It was unfathomable to Silverpaw, they could not even imagine a forest that had life. What Vinecrawler was talking about was pure fantasy to them, but that didn’t mean the silver apprentice did not see the vision, and understand his dedication. But she had to know, had he ever had doubts? These were question Silverpaw most likely should have been discussing with Quailprowler, or Mottlestar or one of ThunderClan’s medicine cats, but they might be biased to StarClan. How they could be Silverpaw doubted she would ever comprehend. They just needed an honest answer. “And did you ever doubt Gekala, Vinecrawler? Did they ever give you reason to lose faith?” silverpaw meowed, their voice trailing little more than a hoarse whisper lest StarClan were in a smiteful mood.