My species: mice

Words: 1006

My earliest memory was white. Solid, deathly white, the cold, pitiless white that would consume one and swallow her into its innermost frigid abyss. Everything was white. The bark, the grass, the sky, the moon, the clouds…even the wind. Pure white. Pure, pitiless, frigid white. I am, to this day, terrified of the colorless white.

My first understanding? I was alone. There was no one to love me, no one to care for me, no one to claim me. I was completely, utterly alone. I was new. I was naïve. I was soon to be dead.

I grasped that. My understanding of that was complete and incomprehensible.

There was no problem.

I was going to join my mother and siblings. I knew not where they were, but I knew I would join them in death. Although I was a simple young kit—sickly at that—I understood I would see them again. Somewhere beyond this treacherous white, I would see my parents and littermates.

I was glad of that.

My thin brown legs burned with cold as I lay on the thin ice covering the grass. Snow covered me and seeped into my fur, but I was done fighting.

I was honestly done.

Soft squeaks sounded next to me.

"Who is that?"

"What is that?"

"I think it's a cat!"

"It can't stay here!"

My eyes flickered open. What was that sound?

The squeaks turned to shrieks as I raised my head. Seven mice scattered and dashed back underground. One more emerged, eyes wide and ears riveting.

"Cat?" he mouthed carefully. "Cat, do you understand me?" He was a large mouse, pale brown, with dark legs and a grossly pink tail.

I blinked in confusion and nodded. Am I dreaming? I wondered.

He gaped, shocked. "You can?"

Again, I nodded. "Where…Where am I?" I breathed.

"You speak! Wonder of all wonders, a baby cat can speak!" He moved closer, skittering over me. "My name is Emblore, leader of the mice. How wondrous! Everyone, emerge! The kitten speaks!"

A few mice skittered out. "What?"

I gawped at them. I whispered the one thing—the only thing—I could imagine emerging from my mouth. "Help me."

The first mouse, Emblore, beckoned his friends. "Let us warm the cat-mouse," he ordered. He clambered onto me and lay across me.

"What?" One of the female mice sniffed at me. "Won't she eat us?"

I was too weak to reply.

"No, Laffie. Please, help us warm her."

The other mice began to wrap around me, curling under me, their pale brown fur mingling with mine. Beady black eyes were a comfort through the white. Warm beady black eyes. Warm pale brown fur. Warm, squirmy bodies.

My mind gave in to the exhaustion; the pure, heavy exhaustion—the desperate thing that crippled my mind and body.

My frostbitten pads were warmed beneath the brown bodies. My tender pink nose was blocked from the harsh wind by Emblore himself. My thin ears were quashed to my head by more mice, more mice, more and more and more mice.

These mice were not meals.

These mice were my friends.

The morning after my first memory, the white storm was over. The sky was gray and pale. The thick tree was covered in ice, thick ice, terrible ice.

First there were questions.

"Who are you?"

"What is your name?"

"Where is your mother?"

"Who is your father?"

"How do you speak our language?"

Of course, I could answer very few of them. I had no name; my mother had perished far too soon to name any of us. My mother was in no definite place. I knew not of my father. Of languages, I noticed no differences between theirs and mine.

My most vivid early memory contains seven words. I can recall the exact expression on Emblore's face, the warm glow in his black eyes. It seemed, at the time, that everything about the mice was warm.

"Would you like to join our group?"

I remember the gasps that ran through the group.

"No!"

"It's one thing to save a cat! It's completely different to invite one here!"

"She'll be a spy for our enemies!"

"She'll eat us all!"

"Silence!" Emblore snapped, standing tall and proud. "I am the leader of this group! I will ordain who is invited to join!" He swung back to me. "Will you join?"

The silence could have been touched. My eyes were wide as I stared at him. "W-What?"

They continued to stare at me. They knew I understood.

"Yes," I breathed. "I will."

"Good!" Emblore approved.

The mice glanced darkly at one another, whispering their bad words about me. I would not be welcomed for a long time.

I was determined. I would be accepted.

"From this day forth, you shall be known as Kouse, the kitten who spoke mouse. Now, please, Kouse, if you'll walk with me?" Emblore beckoned me.

I ambled slowly after him, waiting until we were out of sight of the other mice.

Finally, Emblore halted. "Kouse, I have a large favor to ask you. How many moons are you?"

I hesitated. "One," I whispered.

He nodded thoughtfully. "We have five moons to train you. Then…" He glanced away. "Would you be willing to spy on our enemies?"

I ogled at him. "What enemies?" I did not understand how these warm, gentle creatures could have enemies.

"The cats."

It was understood between us. The arrangements were made. When I was six moons old, I would join the clans. I would rise in these clans. I would gain power. I would make the clans great.

The only thing the clans didn't know? I would be the fall of the clans.

Here I lie, now, in the warriors den, as I blink slowly and stare out the night sky. Here, my name is Mousefire. I am deputy of ThunderClan.

Yeah, right.

My only real home is in the frigid, pitiless white.

My true name is Kouse, kitten that speaks mouse.

My true family are the mice.