The first few moons of Briar's life were simple, easy. She was born a kittypet in a nest of four kind Twolegs to Rocky and Bleu. Rocky, her father, was a brown tom with often disheveled fur. Her mother, Bleu, was a silvery blue she cat. Briar got her looks from her mother, the spitting image of Bleu. She was an only kit, and her life was good – until the fire.
Briar had woken up to the smell of smoke clouding her nose. She retched; the reek was to strong for her since she was only four moons old.
"Mwommy!" She glanced around in panic for Bleu, not feeling her presence beside her. Briar rose is panic and glimpsed her mother a fox length away, clawing incessantly at the wooden legs of the couch; ever since her leg had been injured by the neighbor's dog she hadn't been able to jump. The kit ran over to her mother, wailing, "What's happening?"
"Little one, there's a fire. Your father has gone to wake our Housefolk. You must get out of here; I'll boost you up onto the couch, and you can escape through the window." Without waiting for her kit's answer, she flung Briar onto the couch. Briar gave a wail as she peered back down at her mother.
"You come now, Mwommy; we get Daddy and go together!"
Bleu shook her head sadly. "I must find another way out, darling," she explained, trying not to let the panic she was feeling seep into her voice. Briar shook her head and braced herself to jump back down, but her mother stopped her with a warm yet sad meow: "You leave now, darling. I love you." With that, her mother bounded away into the flames to find another form of escape.
"No!" Briar felt the tears begin to fill her eyes as she turned around. She used her tiny claws, for which she was named, to scrabble up the couch's rough material until she was leaning against the wall at the very top. She gathered her muscles and leaped up towards the windowsill; for a heartbeat she swayed precariously on the edge of the sill, swinging over the fiery expanse that had become her living room. Finally, she pulled herself up onto the ledge, which was barely big enough for her to stand on.
Briar took one last glance at her home: a flaming inferno, engulfing everything she knew and cherished. She spotted her mother scraping away at a table that had fallen in front of the kitty door, trying to squeeze under it, but to no avail. Briar realized that it must have fallen before her mother had awakened; otherwise Bleu would have already escaped and taken Briar to safety with her.
"Goodbye." It was as much for her father, mother, and Housefolk as it was for the house; somehow, Briar knew that she was the only one who would escape. She whirled around and wedged her small body under the window.
Briar felt a cold wind blow against her face and took several gulps of the fresh, clean air as she evacuated her home. She leaped into a bush just beneath the sill, hoping it would break her fall. As she landed, she felt her sadness overtake her. She had to get away from the house, she knew, and yet she couldn't leave. She ran a few mouse lengths before whirling back around to watch the destruction of her house.
It was a horrible sight, but still she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. Briar gazed in horror as the flames found their way out of the house through the window; she had left not a moment too soon. She stood transfixed as her house fell before her in slow motion. Through the flames, she glimpsed her mother lying motionless on her side; then a section of wall fell on top of Bleu. Briar couldn't watch any longer; she took off through the woods. She had only gone a few fox lengths when her grief over came her. The kit heaved forward, unconscious.
Briar sniffed uncertainly. Why didn't she smell the female Twoleg cooking breakfast? And why wasn't her mother curled up beside her? She hoped that the Twoleg kits would come and play with her soon. She sneezed as she felt an unfamiliar scent tickle her nostrils. She snapped her eyes open in remembrance of the night before. Grief overcame Briar once more, but she only let a couple of tears fall. She could hear voices approaching in the distance. She didn't know if they were friendly or hostile cats; after all, she had heard tales of both good and bad Cat Packs roaming the forest behind her Twoleg nest and didn't want to chance an encounter with the latter. Briar dove into a nearby bush, and not a moment too soon; at that point, the cats came into the clearing where she had spent the night.
"…and I said to him, 'No, you're going down!'" A black she cat said to her two companions as she padded along. The other two cats, both toms, burst into laughter.
"I have to hand it to you, Smoke, I don't think any cat could beat you in a fight without years of experience," the brown tom mewed to Smoke. "I'm happy to have a cat like you on my side."
"Thank you, Mud," Smoke purred. It was obvious she was enjoying the attention.
The other tom, a little tortoiseshell, sniffed the air uncertainly. "I smell a kittypet," he said gruffly. His companions halted and sniffed the air also.
"I smell one too," Smoke hissed. She began to track the source of the scent. Briar was sure the cats could hear her heart pounding in her chest. At that moment, a fern tickled her nose. She gave a huge sneeze before she could stop herself!
"Aha!" Smoke sprang forward, landing on Briar none too gently. "What are you doing out here? You're no more than a kit!"
"My nest, it burned down!" Briar wriggled underneath the she cat's weight, trying to free herself. Mud and the tortoiseshell tom padded over to see what Smoke had caught.
"C'mon, Smoke, she's only a kit, and her nest burned down." The tortoiseshell stepped forward and gently nudged Smoke off of Briar. Briar glanced gratefully at the tom as she cowered, hoping that they wouldn't hurt her.
"Fine. Look, kit – what's your name?"
"Br-briar," the kit mewed. She stood up a little straighter; they didn't seem as though they would hurt her.
"Briar, would you like to come with us? We're part of the Gopher Cat Pack, and there is plenty of room for another kit to join us." Smoke's voice was like silk now; her heart seemed to have melted when she heard of the kit's predicament.
"But she's a kittypet!" Mud faced Smoke, fur bristling. "She can't learn our ways. She won't value them!"
"She's only a kit, Mud," Smoke explained calmly. "She has plenty of time to learn."
"And besides, are you just going to leave a helpless kit to be eaten by a fox?" The tortoiseshell stood defiant next to Smoke.
"Stay out of this, Dapplelear; you're still only a Learner yourself." Mud rolled his eyes. "I suppose we can keep her, but her name will have to change to Briarkit."
"I'm fine with that!" Briar nodded her head in enthusiasm; she was going to become part of a Cat Pack!
"Let's get going then," Smoke said. "Come along, little one." She carefully guided Briarkit through the trees with her tail. "My name's Smoke, and that's Dapplelear. That big tom over there is Mud."
"I have a question, Smoke," Briarkit mewed uncertainly. "Why do you two have names like 'Smoke' and 'Mud', but his name is 'Dapplelear' and my name is 'Briarkit'?"
"The names represent our different ranks, Briarkit. Mud and I are full grown Pack mates, but Dapplelear is still in training to become one, which makes him a Learner. Your name is Briarkit because you are only a kit."
"Oh, ok." Briarkit walked in silence the rest of the way to the camp.
When the camp finally came into view, it almost took Briarkit's breath away. Never before had she seen so many cats in one place! There were small kits her age and younger, and some cats about Dapplelear's size. The kit decided that they must be Learners also. There were also full grown cats that must have been Pack mates.
"I know everything might seem big now," Dapplelear whispered in Briarkit's ear, "but you eventually get used to it. I know I did."