Opening Locked Doors

 Opening Locked Doors

 By Brams

 For Blazey's  100 Themes Challenge

Inuwa. The tom had had a tough life, and he's struggling to make the most of it. He hasn't known what to do with it... Until now.

 One - Introduction
It’s hard to find a point to start. It always has.

I know, from my ruins of a life so far, that I need to change – and drastically. But, there is always one question that bothers me every time I think of this – how? It’s never been easy.

You see, I know I’m not normal. My ideas are the strangest to what the normal cats think, and I don’t understand how they can be so… confident with one another. In the world of loners and rogues, I’ve always lacked the social skills required of them – and I still don’t have them.

They look at each other in the eye with a clear ease, while I shudder every time a cat yowls with fury at me when they notice that I’m not looking me in the eye. They never can take me seriously because of this. I’ve always wondered why I struggle unlike no other…

…and no answers have ever come to me. It breaks my heart.

Those are my weaknesses, and every time a cat meets me for the first time, they find these out very quickly. Then, they abandon me – thinking that I’m worthless, not ready for them.

I do know I’m not worthless – and every time a cat says it, it tears at my heart, already shattered by many before them. I have my talents, too, and they are oblivious to them, as they see me off before they realize who I truly am. I’m smart, for a cat – well, I like to consider that to myself, anyway. I know a lot about fighting and hunting – and although it took me a while to master by myself, I soon honed my newfound talents. I am also great at navigating these pine forests around my home – I rarely get lost, but I do know of times that I have done so.

See, I have my talents. However, in this society, every cat knows that perfection is the best, and that weakness cannot be tolerated. That is my biggest flaw in this life – my weaknesses. It seems I always have more of them than my strengths.

Speaking to others – confessing my feelings – is another one. See, I’m on a roll right now – it takes me effort to do this. I hate to be embarrassed, especially because I have suffered so much about it in society.

I feel trapped, because of these weaknesses. I know I don’t want to be a fool, like I already am. I’ve messed up that part of my life too much.

Now, I want a fresh start – and I feel that now, after all these moons, trying to figure out a way out of this. I need to open these doors that I have locked for so long.

My name is Inuwa. I guess you could say this is an introduction to my life, but I don’t know for sure. Who knows that the other cats call it, in their popular societies that they have, the ones that I have never had the chance to do?

I have no idea, but I wish I knew.

 Two - Complicated
Around here, in these pine forests, life is very complicated. All of it sources from the center – the middle of everything.

It’s called the Clans. They are the cats that are the accepted in society – and if you’re not into that sort of thing, good luck to you if you want to get in a Clan.

That is one thing that depresses me. I was born a rogue, but after I was born, my parents were both accepted into one of the Clans. Moons later, my two siblings were accepted too. Now, I’m the only one left, still roaming the wild. I don’t even know if I’ll even become a Clan cat.

I suppose I’d better explain to you how everything works around here, or you won’t get anything.

There are five Clans, and all of them live in this huge expanse of pine forest – NeedleClan, BarkClan, MarshClan, MossClan, and ShrubClan. Each has their own traits that you need to have to be accepted into them.

NeedleClan are the fighters – the cats that are often large and thickset-built. They often brawl with the other Clans, their claws as sharp as the prickliest thorns. They are power-hungry, and want to be the powerhouses of the Clans.

Unfortunately for them, cats that are natural leaders are placed in MarshClan. These cats are often ones with calm attitudes, and don’t get angered so easily. They take the lead, and help their Clanmates with utmost respect.

ShrubClan’s territory, compared to the other Clans, has a lot more bushes that scatter around their territory. These cats are wiry, and have small paws – and are well reputed for their stealth and their athletic builds. This makes NeedleClan envious of them – and these are the two Clans that are most often fighting.

BarkClan are the healers. They try to cover up the damage that has been made, rather than to create them. They are kind, and welcoming to other cats, and are the only Clan that takes a risk of bringing cats inside their territory to them – they’re not hostile at all.

And then there’s MossClan. These cats are best all-rounders – the cats that fit into no particular category very well, but a deemed worthy of a Clan. However, half the cats there are seen as wise and intelligent, and are the best at thinking up new strategies for various tasks.

If I was to ever be put in a Clan, it would have to be MossClan. At least I wouldn’t be the odd one out there.

These Clans are cruel sometimes, however. When a kit born into a Clan reaches twelve moons, they are cast out. They have to wait until the Seasons’ End until they have a chance to re-join them.

The Seasons’ End is a ceremony held every three moons, at the end of a season. All the loners and rogues come, and hope to be accepted into a Clan. The five Clan leaders come – if they have a vacancy in their Clan, maybe for a cat that’s died or abandoned them – and pick new members - the amount accepted corresponding for the amount of vacancies they have in their Clan.

I am never accepted. They think I’m weird – obviously I’m not bred for the social life.

So as you can now see, life here is very complicated. I’m trying to think of a way to be included – but I need to think of a how. At this stage of my life, I feel that it’s time to finally take action – and fast.

I only have one life, after all.

 Three - Making History
Speaking of the Season’s End, today’s the day it’s due to fall. At the moment, I’m at the front of the crowd of cats – I can’t stand being at the back – waiting for it to begin. It isn’t long now.

It’s the end of leaf-bare – the season that I dislike the most of them all. I don’t feel the cold, but the snow that drifts lazily into the clearing… it screws up my hunting. It’s not easy to hunt in the snow when your pelt is a shade of midnight black – like mine.

I turn around to the front. Three leaders are at the front. I assume that the Season’s End is about to begin.

I sweep my amber gaze over the leaders. One’s a brown-and-white tabby; a second is spike-furred, gray, and also a tabby; the third being smaller than the rest, their pelt a pale shade of ginger-and-white.

MarshClan, ShrubClan, and MossClan have vacancies. My heart leaps.

The brown-and-white tabby hesitates, and then he slowly steps forward. He silences the loners and rogues in the clearing with a stern meow of his deep voice, quickly grabbing every cats’ attention. His tail flicks, and then he steps back, letting the gray she-cat take over.

“Welcome to the Season’s End, for the end of leaf-bare,” the cat announces, their pine-green eyes wide. “Today, we express to you our vacancies, and we hope we can make you a warrior.”

A few cats cheer at the announcement of the cat – Gorsestar, who’s the leader of ShrubClan. However, these are all short-lived, as they die away quickly. They all want to be selected for a Clan - that's more important than anything else for them.

I stay silent. I do this for every cat that is ranked higher than me in society. I want to show respect, so that I can gain trust. I know that if I speak, I will be sent away.

They know I’m strange, after all.

Firstly, the cat that hasn’t spoken yet – the ginger-and-white she-cat – steps forward. “MossClan has one vacancy,” she announces, before stepping back.

My heart leaps at the announcement of MossClan having a vacancy. Even one vacancy is an opportunity. I shuffle my paws, wanting to look confident. I want a spot in a Clan!

Gorsestar then steps forward again. “ShrubClan has two vacancies to fill,” she announces, before stepping back once more.

I don’t take much interest to Gorsestar’s offer, as I see the cat who has spoken first off – MarshClan’s leader, Owlstar – step forward again. Every cat is deathly silent here – they don’t dare to speak when Owlstar’s around. As MarshClan is the head of society, and Owlstar is the head of them, he is the cat to look up to – except for the NeedleClan cats, who all despise him.

“MarshClan also has one vacancy,” he announces, before stepping back too. Then, the three leaders observe the crowd, their heads swivelling.

They’re choosing who they want for their Clans. And for some reason, they always make the right decision. They speak quietly as they do so – I hear them speaking quietly – and I wonder if they’re speaking to spirits.

Gorsestar is the first to move. She picks a brown-and-gray she-cat and a white tom with a brown chest, and then she leaves. There’s no more business for her to deal with there. Now, in the whole of the Clans, there are only two spaces left to fill.

Birdstar - the ginger-and-white she-cat – is next. She picks a calico, and my heart sinks. I know I’m not going to be selected now. I’m not a leader.

Only one space left, I think to myself. I won’t be picked.

I don't let my disappointment dwell on me for too long - and as I look up, I realized that I was right. Owlstar picks his cat, but it was one that I never expected. It was a tom with long gray fur, and eyes a shade of amber-green. He told me once that he used to be like me. His name was Chrome, and he inspired me, and strengthened me.

Now, he would be gone. For the Clans, he would be from now on.

“You need others to help you, Inuwa.” The tom’s words echoes in my wind, as I watched, shocked. I never would have believed Chrome would have got selected for a Clan – never!

Chrome looked at me as Owlstar led him off. His amber-green eyes were sad as he looked at me, and then he was gone.

Once Owlstar and Chrome had left, the group of cats started to split up. One cat yowled as they left: “That’s making history! No cat like Chrome has ever been accepted into a Clan before!”

And in that moment, I knew it was possible to achieve my dream.

 Four - Rivalry
The next day, I found myself near the edge of the pine forest, where the trees became sparsely populated, turning from leafy overhang into smooth, grassy moor. My black fur was fluffed up as it usually was – although now that it was the beginning of newleaf, the winds that blew were still very chilly.

My ears flattened against my skull. I had no particular reason why I was here. I didn’t usually come out here – the tree cover was more of my preferring.

I tasted the air, for no good reason. I picked up various prey scents – a few mice and voles; a couple of squirrels; even the scent of a rabbit. But this wasn’t what was bothering me.

It was because that there were two scents of other cats in the air – and they made me feel most unsettled. These scents I could put a name and face to, and they weren’t the nicest cats on the block. In fact, they are bullies.

Their names suit their demeanor – Thorn and Claw. Both are dark cats – Thorn being golden-brown, and Claw being gray-and-brown. As soon as I envisioned them in my mind, they appeared from behind a bush, and stared at me. I looked down - I feel scared if I look cats in the eye. It makes me feel intimidated.

However, I could still see Thorn’s dark eyes darting to and fro in the scene before him, while Claw was standing beside him, his thick-furred tail flicking. They looked menacing – their long, curved claws unsheathed, their large thickset bodies imposing. And I knew that today, they would be especially nasty.

Especially because there were no vacancies for NeedleClan. It’s a fact around here that they want to be under Sharpstar’s rule, not the rule of their own type.

My ears flattened for a moment, as I saw then turn towards me. I was scared. I am scared of my enemies, and I don’t know how to fight them back, like other cats do. The only good things that I can fight back with all turn up after the moment is gone.

“Inuwa,” one of the cats hisses. It’s Claw. The gray-and-brown tom takes one imposing step forward, and his massive body makes a shadow over mine. I flinch, and step back – which causes the two cats to laugh menacingly.

“Oh, looook,” Claw mocks, as he sees me stepping back. “Inuwa’s scaaaaared.” He gives a rueful hiss at me, hoping for a reaction, but this time I don’t move.

My mind works in weird ways. Sometimes, I lash out quickly at Thorn and Claw’s taunts; on others, it takes a lot to trigger me off. Even less often I ignore them, and I turn and walk away. But it’s too hard for me to do that last option – the preferred option – most of the time.

“Maybe he’ll lash out soon,” I hear Thorn hiss quietly to Claw, not noticing that I overheard them. I stand there, still as a stone, not willing to move. They’ll pick on me if I do that . They turn back to me, their eyes flashing. I gulp, as I remember what they call these sorts of things. They call them ‘rivalries’, although I do disagree – I call it a rift, one that those cats have caused themselves.

Then, they do something I don’t expect. Thorn – the smaller of the two – shoots a triumphant glance at Claw, and then me. I click on that they're going something - something bad - as Thorn turns to me, bunches his muscles, and leaps in my direction - with myself unprepared.

No!

 Five - Unbreakable
As Thorn leapt at me, I reeled back in shock. I’d never really thought much before, even though I knew what to do. Inside, I was panicking.

''Get off of me, Thorn! Get a life!'' I hissed inside my head, still stiff with shock. I felt Thorn touch me with his broad paws, and I fell over with the force, flinching and groaning. I hate getting touched... I added, feeling defeated.

Did I mention that I really hate getting touched by other cats, unless I tell them they can?

I knew I had to act, but I didn’t know what to do. I batted weakly at Thorn, my claws still sheathed, while Thorn swiped at my flank. I felt pain where he had swiped at me, and I looked over. A few small streams of scarlet blood was pooling out from a freshly-made wound.

“Weakling,” Thorn mocked. I pricked my ears, hearing Claw jeer in agreement nearby. And in that moment which they had teased me, I knew that I had dealt with the two toms enough.

I felt my thorn-sharp claws slide open, just as Thorn managed to pin me to the ground with a swift movement. I wriggled uncomfortably, trying to get off Thorn. “Get… off… of… me…” I grunted, as Thorn’s claws threatened to dig even further into my pelt.

Thorn ignored me. He just cackled wildly before I felt the claws dig in harder. I knew I had to act – and fast.

Without thinking, I lashed one black-furred leg out, trying to kick Thorn off of me. I didn’t get the tom - and I didn't cause any damage, for that matter – but my movement threw him off balance, as I saw him stumble. As he did so, I saw Claw moving slightly further away, not wanting to get involved.

Thorn attempted to get back onto me properly – but I tried to kick him again, so - once again -he slipped off balance, his claws sheathing in shock. The golden-brown tumbled half-off my body in fright, but I could still see him crouching by my tail, grinning evilly, his sharp white teeth bared.

I felt happy that I had at least done something in my favor, for once. It made me proud.At least I wasn't completely useless - although I obviously wasn't very good at putting it into practice.

However, Thorn seemed not to agree with me. The tom retreated back a few steps, his amber eyes flashing. I scrambled back onto my paws, my wounds still bleeding. Warm blood pooled at my paws, making me feel uneasy.

I couldn’t tell what the expression on Thorn’s face was either – I had always struggled with that too, another one of my social problems – but I knew that he wasn’t happy. The area around his eyes was furrowed, and his tail was lashing.

“You know, I’ll be back,” he mewed, his voice dark and sinister. It made me nervous, just listening to it. But thankfully, Thorn only proceeded to look at Claw, and in a flash he was no longer looking at me – and this made me feel a lot more relaxed. In another flash, however, the two toms were gone.

I sighed in relief. I didn’t need any cat around me right now, after what I had just faced. It had caused me to shake - in shock, and in a slight hint of fear.

However, although Claw and Thorn had beat me in this battle, the bullying that Thorn and Claw have inflicted has never really gotten to me. I don’t dwell on that. They don’t know that my spirit is unbreakable, and it never will be broken.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me, I thought doubtfully, shaking my head. Not to the outside, it doesn't work - but for me, it does.

 Six - Obsession
That night, the near-full moon rose in the sky, and I looked up with a twinkling in my eye. The moon had always inspired me: given me hope when I needed it the most.

I’ve never really understood why. However, it just seems to drive me.

The night sky reminds me a bit of myself. Only because it’s black, I've thought - I have never really had much idea about what else it could mean to me. Black reminds me of my black pelt, I’ve always thought.

Tonight, it sees different. Now, just a night after the Season’s End, I remember that the Clans have always liked the moon, too.

The moon and the stars are respected among the Clans. I have heard from young, ex-Clan cats that have been kicked out of their respective Clans due to the twelve-moon rule, that they have a Clan of ancestors called StarClan, and they lie up in Silverpelt with all these stars.

They say this is one thing that you must believe in to join the Clans. Most of the Clans will send you out if you don’t believe – except NeedleClan. NeedleClan does the extreme – they kill any cat in their Clan that doesn’t believe.

That’s one of the many reasons why I don’t want to join NeedleClan. I don’t have the personality traits, anyway, so I consider myself safe from that.

The stars seem to twinkle at me, disappearing and appearing. For some reason, the stars seem to… understand what I’m thinking. And they trust in me.

That’s the most I can ever ask for. If no cat in these pine forests won’t accept me, then no cat will. I feel sad, knowing at this thought; I may never be accepted into the Clans at this rate.

I admire the beauty of the moon next, shifting my gaze from the millions of stars that are around me. It’s large tonight – the Clans must be having their Gathering soon, where the five Clans share news in the clearing where the Season’s End is held. They share news, about what has happened recently, and their latest news. New cats from the Season’s End, appointments of higher positions, cats retiring, threats… that’s what I’ve heard.

If I became a Clan warrior, I’d long to go to a Gathering. It must be beautiful in that clearing with the full moon – the Season’s End only ever happens in daylight, so no rogue ever gets to see the place before they become a warrior.

The Clan cats that have been kicked out say that they have never been to a Gathering, either. They say that they have to stay in the camp, because it is against the protocol of the Clans – the Warrior Code – for them to go.

It must be harsh for them, knowing what will happen to them if they are accepted into the Clans, but they are not accepted into them themselves.

This is one reason why I am obsessed with these Clans. I wonder what they are like, as there is so much mystery shrouded in them. I wonder what’s really there…

…but the only catch is that I must become a warrior first – and will that ever come?

 Seven - Eternity
Stars dotted the midnight-black sky, the moon casting a shadow over the ground. The tree cover rustled with a light breeze – to any cat passing by, it might have seemed normal.

Normal, if the place itself wasn’t completely dotted with stars. Everything from the trees, to every single pine needle, was dotted with the sparkling things. It made the whole place seem brighter.

This was the place where five cats had decided to meet that night.

First, a silver-and-white she-cat appeared, followed by a dark brown tom. A fluffy-furred gray-brown tom came next, then a small, wiry, dusky brown she-cat. Last came a gray tabby tom that arched his back in distaste, his amber eyes narrowed, his fur fluffed out – making him look even bigger than he actually was, which was pretty huge anyway.

Silence was evident for a moment as the cats sat down and gathered. Eventually, the first cat spoke:

“So.” The silver-and-white she-cat was the first to speak, her clear blue eyes round as she gazed at all the other cats. Like the scene before them, all these cats were covered with stars – more stars than cat, it seemed. “We must discuss this… situation that’s coming across the Clans.”

The dark brown tom snorted in reply. “Moss, I wouldn’t call it a situation,” he replied. The tom waved his tail slightly before adding: “It’s more of what’s going to happen in the future of the five Clans, if that’s what you’re meaning.”

Moss looked rather unfazed by the dark brown tom. “That’s exactly what I mean, Marsh,” she hissed back, before adding: “There are more of the abnormal cats joining the Clans – and there will be more as time passes. It’s not a threat, but they’re becoming more like us. They’re learning.”

There was silence, before the dusky she-cat spoke. She cocked her head to one side, her yellow eyes wide, before she mewed: “There is nothing wrong with them learning to be more like us –”

“She never said that!” The gray tabby interrupted the dusky she-cat, his amber eyes wide again. “It is wrong! Bark, the impure should never have the opportunity to join the Clans.”

Bark shook her head. “Your Clan, Needle, has always been the most ferocious of them all,” she mewed calmly, her yellow eyes suddenly narrowed. “I accept that your Clan may have different motives to some of us, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t say no to them all. You don’t make all the choices for all of the Clans.”

Needle hissed in frustration at Bark’s words, but he said nothing in reply. After this, silence once more enfolded, giving everyone in the clearing some peace. Then, the fifth cat – the gray-brown tom – stood between Needle and Bark, before they dared to spit another insult at one another.

“Things change,” the tom mewed. His green eyes were in a neutral state – not really supporting any side of the argument. “Owlstar accepted Chrome. We in StarClan can see what enfolds for him, but more cats may follow.”

Moss nodded in agreement. “Yes, Shrub,” she echoed quietly. “We don’t know yet, but –” She looked down at the ground – which was transparent – where all five cats could see a tom in the living world – his pelt midnight-black, like the sky – looking up at the moon and stars. “Maybe others will follow.”

These five cats founded the Clans many moons ago. They have known StarClan in its eternity.

And with that conversation, it looked like it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

 Eight - Gateway
Two days pass by slowly. On these two days, the sun seems to drag in the sky: and everything I do seems to take more time than it actually does. It makes my usual routine – I despise change – seem different, somehow – and I don’t like it.

On the third day, the same thing happens. I lug myself out of my dusty den – which is a fair way away from MossClan’s border – and wash my pelt. Then, I go out to hunt – not usually near the Clans, though, because they usually get suspicious about that sort of thing.

Today is different. My paws seem to drag me closer to the Clans than I usually hunt, but I’m too lazy to protest.

After I take in my surroundings – pines with higher branches than I am used to – I taste the air. The usual happens, when multiple prey scents drift around me. My mind fills with visions of prey – from fresh-killed mouse to a tantalizing, juicy squirrel.

This time, I track a vole. I hear its skittering at the bottom of a pine tree – it’s near a rather large pinecone. I crouch down, and slowly slink forward.

I’m getting closer and closer, my pawsteps not making noise. The vole hasn’t noticed me. I get in reach, and lash one paw forward, for the vole to get trapped as I go in, and swiftly kill it with a bite.

I take it away softly in my jaws. I don’t want to tear up my prey, like some other cats do. I find that weird. I sit down, wanting to eat. I crouch down for a bite –

“Hey, you! I’ve never seen you before! What are you doing out here on your own?”

I jump at the noise. ''Another cat’s here! How did I not notice!?'' I think irritably, turning over to see a cat crouching over in the shadows of a nearby pine. It stays still, not moving when I turn to it.

“I know you’re there,” I grunt, feeling frustrated by this interruption. “Come out. I’m not in the mood for any suspense.” I don’t bother to add on something else that I know – I always hate suspense.

I see the cat. Their pelt is light brown, speckled with darker brown flecks. Their eyes are amber – like mine – yet they are larger and rounder. I taste the air – it’s a she-cat. “I’ve never seen you around here,” the she-cat repeated, turning to look at me. “I’m Renee.” She sits down, and I see her narrow her eyes at my vole. “You’re a great hunter, by the way. I saw you catch that vole – I can’t catch prey that neat!”

“Th-Thanks,” I stammer back to this stranger – Renee, she says. “Are you new around here?” I look down at my paws, feeling nervous.

“You need to look me in the eye,” Renee tells me, and I look up a bit, meeting her eyes for a moment. I feel intimidated, so I look away quickly. “Anyway, yes… I suppose. I’ve heard of cats talking about these Clans…”

“I know all about these Clans,” I grunt in reply. “But I’m not good enough socially to join them.”

Renee stared at me sadly. I see her amber eyes well up in compassion. “I have a brother that was a little awkward socially, too,” she murmured. “But he ran away… I helped him a bit, so I wonder if I could help you in that aspect.” She nods, and then she narrows her eyes. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Inuwa,” I reply with a grunt, my gaze still lowered. “Why are you around here? It is because of these Clans…?”

Renee’s gaze now looked thoughtful. “Well, yes…” she mewed softly. “Do you know a lot about them? I presume you do.”

I nod, meeting Renee’s gaze again. This time, it isn’t so intimidating, but I still look away quickly. “Yes…” I mewed softly. But what’s bugging me inside is will I be able to join them...

It was if Renee could read my mind with the words she spoke next. “Why don’t I strike a deal with you?” she asked. “I help you with these issues that you have – I’ve come across them before – and you help me into the Clans. Fair? It could be our gateway there.”

In that moment, I knew that I had hope. “Yes, Renee,” I whispered, knowing that I couldn’t say no to this. “It’s a deal.”

 Nine - Death
I eventually took Renee over around to the Clan borders, and tried to explain their purpose to her. I was not completely into what I was saying, but unlike most cats Renee didn’t mind every time I screwed up – she must have got patience from her brother, I presumed.

“So these borders… the Clan cats must only stay inside them?” she questioned me, tilting her head to one side. As I nodded, thankful that she had understood, Renee sighed in relief. “And that any other cat that strays inside will not be tolerated, and sent out?”

I nodded again. “Most of the time, they’re sent out,” I mewed softly. “There’s one Clan that kills cats if they trespass.” The words ‘NeedleClan’ were on my tongue after I had said this, but they were not spoken.

Renee didn’t look very pleased when I added the last bit. “Weird,” she mewed, sighing sadly. “If any cats didn’t know about what would happen… Anyway, Inuwa, carry on.” She nodded to me respectfully, waiting for me to take the lead again.

I glanced to one side before I set off again, Renee following. I continued to follow MossClan’s border – the only Clan I had properly introduced to Renee so far – until I could smell the different scent of MarshClan when I tasted the air. Their border smelled slightly stale – I wondered why.

“I smell another scent.” Renee padded next to me – a fair distance away, but not too far – and she tasted the air. “What is that? Is that another one of those Clans?” She turned to me, and we locked gazes for a split second, before I looked away again because I felt uncomfortable.

“Yes, Renee,” I mewed. “This is MarshClan. They are the head of society, and they are well-respected. However, this makes them a target for NeedleClan – the most ferocious of the five Clans around here. Don’t become a part of them.”

Renee nodded, and we both fell silent again as we trotted on the edge of MarshClan territory. It was very peaceful – for a while. Until I heard yowling in the distance, that is.

I pricked my ears. It was fairly close. I tilted my head – could it possibly be near the NeedleClan and MarshClan border? So far, Renee and I had gotten a fair way around the Clans’ territory, at a rather brisk pace, and we were doing well. Then, and idea came to my head… NeedleClan and MarshClan always fought. Could it be possible that these two Clans could be fighting yet again?

I looked behind me: Renee had stiffened. The brown-flecked she-cat’s amber eyes were wide. “What’s going on?” I heard her whisper. “I hear yowling…”

“I think NeedleClan and MarshClan have started fighting again,” I sighed sadly. “They always fight… come on.”

We set off again, and soon enough, my suspicion was confirmed. NeedleClan and MarshClan were fighting. Claws were unsheathed, and cats were hissing and yowling.

I saw Chrome among the MarshClan cats, too. I saw him gasping for breath, many wounds across his pelt – he was almost unrecognizable. The rest of the cats were too busy fighting to see him crash to the ground.

Renee flattened her ears. She was still near me. “That warrior fell!” she hissed. “I want to help!” I could see her tail lashing, but I didn’t know what she could be feeling.

I glared at Renee’s forehead for a moment, before I mewed brokenly: “It’s best not to interfere.” Then I looked back at Chrome, and I saw him take one last raggedy breath, and then he never took any more as his body lay still, and then a NeedleClan cat trampled ungraciously on it, not noticing that it was actually there.

Chrome was dead.

<p style="text-align:center;"> Ten - Opportunities
Renee felt different – more different than she had ever felt before that night.

It had been interesting, padding around those Clan borders that day. She never would have thought that they would have been as diverse as they were – she never would have guessed that each had specific traits that the Clan cats had to have to be accepted.

Some of the things Renee had seen had also seemed rather twisted to her. She didn’t get their logic. Inuwa had assured to her over time that would change, but she didn’t know.

Some things seemed strange, and especially the one about unsociable cats with the Clans.

Inuwa had raised that issue even more. The black tom that she had just met today reminded her of her brother, Aspie. He has the same awkward nature as her brother, and the same problem with not looking a cat in the eye. They had their own differences, obviously – but Renee knew they shared an issue.

In that moment, Renee wished that Aspie could’ve had the chance to meet Inuwa. He’d fled somewhere that Renee didn’t know, and all Renee was tempted to do at the moment was to call his name, beckoning him to come back.

It took some effort to stop herself from doing so.

Sighing sadly, Renee turned to looking at the sky. Thoughts of Aspie weren’t helping anything right now, so the speckled she-cat pushed them to the back of her mind. That was not her priority.

Her attention turned back to the Clans, and she recalled one warrior – MarshClan, Renee thought, cocking her head – that had fallen to the ground, dead. Inuwa had stiffened nearby as the cat took its final breath, and then as a NeedleClan warrior trod on the cats’ body, Inuwa looked like he was ready to hiss in fury.

That was disrespectful – for the dead cat. That NeedleClan warrior should’ve taken more care! However, Inuwa’s reactions surprised Renee slightly – did the black tom know the now-deceased cat? She remembered that Aspie raged when things did not go his way – Inuwa seemed calmer, but she suspected that he could have a fiery temper when he got really angry.

Renee then pushed that thought away. That wasn’t the main focus why she was here – she needed to focus on that.

That was why she had come here, to the Clans. The shadow that Aspie had left when he had gone was a reason that Renee had left. She didn’t want to be haunted by her brother’s memory for most of her life. She didn’t want that.

She needed to move on.

These Clans that Renee had been exposed to by Inuwa gave her hope for the future. She could definitely envision a life there, if she worked hard enough – but from what Inuwa said, the next opportunity to join them wouldn’t come for about three moons. For her, this was enough time to learn about them, to make sure she didn’t make mistakes.

Renee wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip from her grasp. She’d already had so many disappointments in life – and she wasn’t going to do it again.

But everything that she did, she would always remember Aspie. She hadn’t really – fully – gotten over it anyway – but she saw a chance with Inuwa.

''I can heal myself, too. I won’t be alone again.''

<p style="text-align:center;"> Eleven - 33%
Shaking out my pelt, I continued to pad through the forest, looking up at the branches above, leading to small blue dots above. I didn’t often do this, but for once I seemed to appreciate the beauty of the pines in all its eternity – for half the time, I had just passed them by, dismissed it as a regular sight – because it was.

The pine’s overhanging branches would be magnificent to an outsider, I thought. ''And all those leaves – needles – they bear off are so delicate. It’s beautiful.''

This seemed to calm me down. I had come out for a walk to clear my head – terrifying thoughts had been nagging in my head of not getting accepted – and I didn’t want that to happen. Chrome had proven it was possible, and Renee gave me hope in the fact that I could do it.

Remembering Chrome, I sighed, remembering the battle that Renee and I had come across two days ago. ''At least Chrome got to die with honour, as a warrior. Owlstar will be warrior-hunting at the next Season’s End – I’ll be very surprised if he isn’t.''

I then sat down, not feeling the need to walk any more. Dwelling in my own thoughts seemed to be the most desirable thing right now, in my eyes. Sometimes, even my own thoughts held great interest to me – sometimes it was a marvel to search through them, and see what I remembered.

I saw two branches above me when I looked up, from two different trees. They had weaved in with one another, became united. Between these two branches, three pinecones lay off them. Suddenly, I was whisked away with memories of the family I was abandoned by – by the cats who had successfully joined the Clans.

The two interlocking branches reminded me of my parents, first of all. The biggest one, with two pinecones hanging off it, reminded me of my father, Caillou. He had been small yet muscular, and his pelt was a mix of gray and black. His eyes were a green-blue colour, which reminded me of the stream that ran along the edge of BarkClan and MossClan territory when it had become overgrown with marine plants.

My mother was the smaller one. She was Sprenkeln, and she was soft and kind to us. She looked out for me as a kit when my siblings didn’t. She was silver with small black dapples, and amber eyes like mine.

Then there were the pinecones. One dropped to the ground – the one that was off Sprenkeln’s branch. That to me was Caldura. She had my father’s build – small – and was mainly gray, but she had inherited an unusual white chest and back. Her eyes were amber too.

Then another one fell. I thought that would be Feryat, who regarded himself as superior over everyone else. He had inherited my mother’s silver pelt, and my father’s blue eyes.

One pinecone still remained in that tree, and I knew that one represented me – the one who was still a rogue.

Out of my siblings, I was one out of three to still remain. Thirty-three percent of the original amount was what remained. But I wondered that one day, this amount could become zero.

Only if I manage to become a Clan cat, that is.

<p style="text-align:center;"> Twelve - Dead Wrong
I stared at the two fallen pinecones for a moment, before turning to the one that was still up there. For once, as I looked up there, I actually felt lonely.

I don’t usually feel loneliness. I am the type of cat who appreciated other cats being near me – even more so when they actually respect me for who I am – but half the time, I prefer to work alone, as that’s where I prosper most at. Working in groups with new ideas always… never turns out well at all.

I look up, sighing, before I slowly turn away from the scene before me, but I’m still glaring to the side as I look away, to savour what I’m looking at for as long as possible. Finally, I end up turning away completely, and I pad off.

That moment back there was so… surreal, I thought, shaking my head. ''Now I’m scared. My family… I hope they’re all right. They never tell you anything – not even the cats’ warrior names.''

Sprenkeln and Caillou both got accepted into BarkClan five seasons ago. Feryat followed the next season, joining MarshClan, and Caldura the next, when she too became a BarkClan cat. I never heard anything after they had gone, not even a whisper.

''I wonder why the Clans decided to keep all of this information so secretive. What were they going to do if a cat found out just one thing anyway?''

I padded off until I found myself near the border with ShrubClan, as I tasted their bitter scent line. Narrowing my eyes, I could see the leafy bushes that gave the Clan its name. I wondered how those cats could live in this territory – those bushes would be a nuisance for hunting.

And then, behind me, I heard a soft rustle in the bushes.

I dismissed it for a moment as just the wind, but then I heard it again, stronger the second time. I turned behind me, and my stomach dropped as I saw two very familiar cats – and I knew who they were, as their tails were poking out from behind a bush.

It was Thorn and Claw.

I wanted to say something, to let them know that I was there – but I stopped myself. What would they say if I said anything? I flattened my ears, unsure of what to do.

And that was the particular moment that Thorn and Claw themselves decided to come out and see me. Their eyes were bright as they looked at me, my ears still flattened. “Oh look, Inuwa’s scared,” Claw mocked, expecting a reaction. I didn’t move, for once being able to concentrate on my actions.

For a moment, they watched me, waiting for something to happen. Finally, I saw then look at each other – admitting defeat. Thorn then mewed: “Well… that didn’t work.” They then turned back to me, and then Thorn asked me: “What are you doing here?”

I couldn’t read the emotion on Thorn’s face. I have always struggled to tell emotions – but for some reason other cats can tell them fine. “I –” I started.

Claw shook his head at me. “Whatever you’re doing is dead wrong,” he mewed, before he looked away – both of them.

I didn’t get what they were saying – was this a ploy? Whatever they were doing, I turned around and walked away, not wanting to deal with it any longer.

And behind by retreating back, I saw a surprised Thorn and Claw, and I finally felt pleased that I had outwitted someone for once.

<p style="text-align:center;"> Thirteen - Running Away
It was a cold, clear morning the day the gray tabby fled.

''The sky had no clouds – it was spotless and serene. On the patchy moor where the cats lived, scents of rabbits could be found in all directions. No cat ever struggled to find sufficient prey.''

''On that cold, frosty morning, the tabby had emerged from his den on the side of a large hill, shaking. His green-gray eyes were dull with what seemed like a world of problems as he padded out, and seated himself out on the moor. He started to stare into space, looking uneasy; unhappy.''

''He stared up at the dawning sky, which was slowly turning from a warm orange into a beautiful sky blue. For the whole time, he didn’t move – he was absolutely still.''

''The sky was working its way through its transition when other cats appeared. They stayed far away from the cat, muttering things like: ‘Weirdo’ and ''‘Why does he do that every morning? It’s weird, for a cat’. They didn’t even bother to look at the cat as they muttered these things.

''But the cat heard. His ear flicked, and it swivelled in the direction of each cat that he heard speak bad things about him. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that everything they said hurt, but he knew what it felt inside.''

''The next cat to pad out of one of these dens was a speckled brown she-cat. Her pelt was mainly light brown, but the speckles were a darker shade. She padded up to this cat – the only one to approach him, the only one to speak words of comfort.''

''“Hey,” she whispered. Her tail seemed to flick in the direction of the gray tabby, but it stopped abruptly, and the tail stayed there in mid-air.''

''The tom looked up, but his gaze did not meet the speckled she-cat. “Hey…” he replied, softly, looking at the she-cat’s paws. “Have you gone hunting yet?”''

''The speckled brown she-cat shook her head. “No, I’ve only just got up.” As she spoke, she shook out her brown fur, and dust flew off it, and became visible in the rays of sunlight. Quieter, she added: “You know, you should –”''

''The gray tabby lashed his tail, hitting the other cat in the side with it. She reeled back as it hit, and she backed away slightly, even though she was unharmed. “Do you have to always correct me for everything I do wrong?” he sighed. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need it for everything.”''

''The she-cat sighed. “I know,” she whispered. “But I care for you – you know that. I won’t be here forever, you know, and we both you about your… issues. Just listen to me, and I –”''

''“No.” The gray tabby shook his head slowly. His tail started lashing again, and his green-gray eyes widened. “No,” he repeated, lifting his gaze to the other’s speckled chest. “I’ve told you what you should know already. Stop.” He then paused for a moment, and then he added: “Wait. I know an idea that will work. I’m going to run away.” The gray tabby then looked away, and without further ado, he sprinted into the open moor, just as the sky finished changing colour.''

''“No!” the speckled she-cat called, but it was too late. The cat had gone.''