A/N :: So, this is a challenge I decided to do, involving a cat, Hawkeye, who was raised by sheep, and now lives in a Clan. It was difficult, and I'm not sure if I got it entirely right. Basically the flock's way of living is; stick together, always be alert, and blend. I hope Hawkeye portrays it right anyway!
"The flock is your friend. If you stick within the flock, you will be safe. Nothing can get you; no furry ones with sharp teeth, and hooked claws, their eyes glowing in the light of the moon, an evil glint – Oh…sorry Hawkeye." The bleating stopped in an embarrassed manner, as the speaker turning to stare down at the lithe white body that belonged to the she-cat. Her tail was curled around a shaven leg, clinging to it for support as she listened with wide eyes to the terrifying tales of the clawed ones. Hawkeye, just a few moons old, crouched as small as possible in the grass, intimidated by the stare she had been given, and the fact she had been singled out. Why was she looking at her like that? With…pity. She was a good member of the flock! She always alerted them to danger. They all said it; Hawkeye had the best sight of the lot, hence her chosen name. It didn't matter that she looked different…it was only fur she had, and teeth, and claws, but her heart said 'flock', and would continue to say that for as long as she lived.
"Watch it mousebrain."
A voice broke into her unconscious dream, along with a sharp prod against her ribcage, blunt due to sheathed claws, but still containing enough force to be uncomfortable. Hawkeye opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the light that filtered into the lichen covered den, her vision blurry as she tried to wake up rapidly. A figure swam into focus before her, a paw still raised, as though waiting for an opportunity to prod at her again. Birchleaf stared at her, his head tilted to one side.
The she-cat rolled into a seated position, glancing around the sandy ground. Lightwind was shooting her a poisonous glare through one opened eye, the only thing seen amidst the long haired pelt she had. Hawkeye's tail curled around her paws protectively, her body scrunching up to seem smaller than the formerly snoozing cat. "Her tail keeps hitting my nose," the she-cat complained, her attention turning to Birchleaf, staring pointedly at the tom, "I only returned from patrol, and I have to take Brownpaw out later on for a trial. I need to be on alert." Lightwind paused, her eye narrowing to a slit. "If I miss something he does wrong, and Sunstar makes him a warrior, what might happen if he's in battle? It would be on the 'white-coat's' head."
Hawkeye dropped her gaze to the ground, pretending she wasn't watching the exchange that was about her. They were talking like she wasn't there, so she would just have to pretend she wasn't. She would have to blend with the background, like the flock did. Blending could save the flock's life if a furry one came searching. Since she had no members to melt into, she would just have to try and blend with the dust in the den.
"Her name is Hawkeye, Lightwind, and she is a member of our Clan. Treat her with respect."
"How can I treat her with respect when she sleeps in the warrior's den, but never had a mentor? She doesn't deserve my respect."
"But Sunstar deserves your respect, and he made the decision to let her join. Disrespecting her, is disrespecting him."
"Foxdung! You just have a soft spot for Hawkeye, Birchleaf. She can't even hunt by herself!"
Hawkeye cringed inwardly at the words. Lightwind was right. She did find it incredibly difficult to hunt by herself. Being alone was something that frightened her immensely; alone meant you were vulnerable to predators, and the cold when it was dark. It was better to stick together. That was what she had learned. That was all she had learned. Safety was in the numbers, she couldn't just unravel her kithood teachings because a grumpy warrior told her to. It was imprinted on her, like Lightwind's belief in StarClan.
"We are not discussing this any further Lightwind. Go back to sleep – and don't even so much as purr about Hawkeye's tail. She won't be disturbing you; she's coming with me on patrol anyway." Birchleaf's tone was firm, and his tail was flicking from side to side testily. The deputy was not in the mood for arguments, and the irritable she-cat had the sense to see that. Grumbling to herself, she brought her head down to rest on the ground, and closed her eye once more. Satisfied, the tom moved his head, indicating to the white she-cat to follow him. Silent, and not meeting his gaze, Hawkeye followed him, her tail trailing on the ground.
"Thanks -," she began as the moved into the clearing of the camp, her nose almost touching his hind leg as they padded towards the entrance. His tail flicked over to her head, the fur hovering just in front of her jaws and signalling silence. Hawkeye went quiet again. "She's right Hawkeye. You may sometime jeopardise this whole Clan with your need for constant companionship while hunting." Birchleaf's tone was not unkind, but the she-cat still felt as if every syllable was a claw in the chest. It was always the same; fine when she hunted with someone, but as soon as they drew out of sight, she would panic, her blue eyes wide as she searched for an escape route. More than once she had interrupted a warrior's stalk, depriving them of a prize. The flock used her for her eyes, not her nose. She was a lookout, and more times than not, forgot she even had a nose. Her sense of smell was worse than a moon-old kit's.
It was humiliating in the Clan.
The two met the others joining the patrol; Dapplebreeze, Tawnypaw and Tigerpelt. Hawkeye couldn't help but hear the snort given by Tigerpelt as he spotted her trailing behind the deputy. He treated her the same as he had two moons ago, when she had been found by Birchleaf and Flamepaw while the two had been hunting, and brought back to camp. Alone in the meadows, with no sheep for comfort, she had seen them long before they had smelled her. There was no room for a furry one in the giant lambing barn the farmer brought her flock into; his dog had made sure of that. The collie's growl had been enough for Hawkeye to race away from her family she had grown up with, despite the bleating, worried cries of the flock. Birchleaf had brought her into the camp, after seeing the young she-cat pounce and kill a mouse in the grass.
She had thought she had found a new home, but the Clan was so different from the flock. Hawkeye bounded after the rest, trailing the back of the group, one ear cocked to Dapplebreeze's constant stream of information given to her apprentice, the other listening to the outside world. Tigerpelt thought of her as a timid sheep, who ran in the face of danger with her tail tucked between her legs. Lightwind, and others she knew, complained of her lack of experience with the Warrior Code. Most of the apprentices' looked down on her, whispering as to why she was allowed sleep in the warrior's den. Hawkeye couldn't help that; Sunstar had insisted. She was not going to defy a leader's orders. She sighed to herself and followed the patrol, catching up as Tigerpelt paused to mark a wooden fence.
"Look here Hawkeye, it's your real family!" the tom sudden yowled, startling the she-cat so much her claws unsheathed and she dropped to the ground. She suppressed the urge to hiss as Tigerpelt mrrowed with laughter. Tawnypaw ducked her head to hide her amusement as the older cats took in the sight of the sheep grazing in the meadow. It was the apprentice's first patrol out of camp since recovering from an illness, and though in high spirits, every cat knew she wasn't at full strength. Hawkeye hadn't realised the direction they had been heading in. Her heart rate increased rapidly as her eyes took in the scene, and her paws ached to leap through the fence and join the flock who had taken her in and raised her as their own. "Maybe they'll think we're you, and let us ride on their backs," Tigerpelt continued, his gaze on the she-cat, "Or let us take their coats and use it in our den." He paused as Hawkeye's pelt bristled. "Dumb animals."
Quick as a flash, Birchleaf stepped between the two, just in time to receive the brunt of the she-cat's leap in response to the words. The two rolled over, the tom's claws sheathed, the other's not, until the deputy lay on top, his tail lashing at Hawkeye's hind to keep it in check. "Enough!" he snarled, allowing the cat up, "I expect the two of you to act in an appropriate manner, instead of squabbling like a pair of kits. Is it any way to make an impression on Tawnypaw?" Tigerpelt at least looked slightly contrite, but Hawkeye picked herself up and merely nodded, not quite listening. Her eyes had caught movement in the field, as the flock began to bunch together. She remembered doing that, her body agile as she dodged the limbs of the taller animals. She had always known she wasn't sheep, but she was still flock, and still behaved as one when the farmer came to the field with his collie.
There was another dog there, smaller than the one she knew. The Clan cats were familiar with the farmer's dog, who was kept in check with whistles and did its job with an undying devotion toward herding sheep. They did not fear it, and their eyes turned away from it almost as soon as they laid eyes on it. Only Hawkeye kept her gaze on the smaller collie, watching as it moved haphazardly through the flock. The elder was obviously trying its best in correct the mistakes it made. Was it the first time the dog was out? The she-cat glanced at the apprentice who was speaking to her mentor at the impromptu break, sniffing occasionally but scenting nothing, the wind blowing upwind. There was a resemblance between the dogs and the cats, but only the one who had been raised by sheep noticed.
Her eyes snapped back to the field as she saw the pup move towards them, its nose high in the air as it caught the scent of cat. Even with its young age, it was still larger than all the cats, and large enough to do irreparable damage. "Dog!" she hissed, her head snapping to the deputy. Birchleaf sighed loudly. "Hawkeye, that twoleg brings his dog all the time. It just concentrates on sheep," came the reply, "You of all cats should know this." The she-cat shook her head in exasperation. "No, a dog!" It was miniscule in the distance, but growing larger to Hawkeye's vision. How could they not see it already? "You're all mousebrained! Relying on your noses!" she yowled, her eyes falling on the youngest of the group, "Listen to me and look!"
They listened. They looked. They saw it running.
"Run!" Dapplebreeze screeched, her body bunching tightly as she launched herself away, Tawnypaw by her side, just as quick off the mark as her mentor. The five cats ran, Tigerpelt overtaking the two she-cats within a couple of strides. They could hear the dog now, its paws pounding on the ground behind, barking loudly as it followed the scent. Hawkeye didn't dare look back, but she could imagine it. She could see the dog leaping through the fence like she had done when her flock had been forced to leave her. It would slip, as she had, on the muddy region that lay just after the gap, but right itself quickly. It would gain on the cats, as she had gained on her rescuers. Now though, she was being chased. She was prey.
Tawnypaw's breath laboured beside the white cat as they ran, her paws barely leaving the ground for each stride. Slowly, she dropped from her side and away from the group. Hawkeye's heart hammered in her chest, threatening to jump out of her rib cage. No! She couldn't leave the flock! It wasn't safe; she had to blend! Her head twisted around to view the young cat and the dog closing in, and suddenly, she did something very un-flock like. She did something…independently. Something…cat-like. She skidded to a halt, and turned around, and ran back the way she came, past the tired apprentice.
She ran at the dog.
What was she thinking? She wasn't even sure. She could feel her heart skip a beat as she came face to face with the dog, briefly, for the split second before she shot past him in the direction of the meadow. He couldn't resist. Instantly, with a closer target to follow, he spun on his hindquarters, skidding slightly, and then he was on her. Hawkeye forced her breaths out in huffs, remembering her kithood, when the collie herded the sheep. Quick and agile, and stay on all four paws was all she had to be. She could outrun this pup. Her eyes spied the fence, and her stride adjusted itself as she angled toward it, every sinew burning to stop. It didn't matter the large dog was behind her. She was just tired. She reached the fence, and with bunched muscles, launched herself over the bottom rung through the gap.
She landed in the meadow and didn't miss a step, heading straight for the older dog. The mentor. Her ears filled with the barking of the one behind her, but all she saw was the collie by the sheep, her flock. It bounded towards her and the pup, and Hawkeye knew it wouldn't go for her. It was too experienced. Like a relay team, dog and cat passed each other in a streak of fur, and Hawkeye made it to the safety of the flock, and just like that, the race was over, and the pup was caught.
She stood there, amidst the wool, panting, her head tilted up to stare at the large herbivores. They bleated among themselves, recognising the white coated cat. Hawkeye looked at them, and took them in for what they were. Her flock. Her family. She could return to them just like that, and everything would go back the way it was. Except, when the weather turned cold, and the sheep began to lamb, she would be left out in the dark alone. She mewed to the sheep, rubbing her head against the leg of one who seemed most familiar.
"Hawkeye! Where are you?" The she-cat turned back to view the other side of the fence at the sound of the yowl. Dapplebreeze, she recognised after a few moments. Cat, not flock. Just like her. Just like she ought to be. She mewed again, and, wary of the dogs and the farmer, bounded toward the other side, just like she had the last time, only this time, was greeted by four cats, not two. "You're alright!" Tawnypaw meowed, relief evident. "That was…very brave…Hawkeye," Tigerpelt spoke, not quite meeting her eye. The she-cat felt a flood of emotion wash through her, at the first nice thing the tom had ever said. She dipped her head modestly in response, and the five began to pad away from the meadow, and away from the sheep. "I was worried," Tigerpelt confessed when the two were slightly behind the others, "But you acted like a true warrior of my Clan – of our Clan." Hawkeye's tail flicked against his at the words. She knew what the emotion was now.
Acceptance.