eh... random chapter. this is harder to write than I first thought it would be. That's what usually happens to me. xD
anyway, please review!
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The first thing I remember was not the sound of scent of sight of my mother, as it should have been. No, there was only darkness, deep, smothering darkness. My eyes had not yet opened. I, of course, had no idea where I was, no idea of anything, not even aware that I was aware.
Except there was a flicker of something, a movement that was unlike the darkness I was in, yet every bit as suffocating. I did not know what to call it then, for how do you describe color? Now I know it as orange, a dark, coppery orange that bled into the utter black surrounding me.
Then it was gone, but I knew in my little kit mind that something greater than me was out there. I could not put it into words, but I knew.
Ah, how kits think the world is centered around them! I remember when I was that young, I spent my time pretending to be the greatest warrior in ThunderClan. That's one of the four Clans – ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, ShadowClan. You would not know of them, of course, rogue. The four Clans – so much rivalry! So much blood spilled, so much power wasted in fighting each other when they could have been conquering! Was it so horrible for me to unite them?
But I digress. I shall speak of that later.
I was the single kit in the litter, so when I did first open my eyes my mother, Poppyfur, was filled with happiness. I did not care, for I had already come to anticipate my dreams and the dull prospect of orange. Sight, though it showed me the world in colors and shapes unimaginable, merely took away the darkness. Only when my eyes were closed could I return to the strange movements that now haunted my dreams. Vision did have one useful aspect, though – color. And so I was able to understand what I was seeing.
It was my father, Thistleclaw, who gave me my name. Tigerkit. I was named for my size – I was large even for a kit – and for my striped tabby pattern, like a tiger's stripes, though I was dark brown instead of ochre.
As a kit, I vowed to be the best hunter and fighter ever known to cats. I thought I would fight as strongly as a tiger, the ancient cat I was named after. Often I listened to the elders tell stories of the ancient Clans. Lion, leopards, tigers. Do you know of them? I thought not. They were huge, large as the Twoleg monsters, with huge, glittering fangs and claws like giant thorns. Twolegs – you call them Nofurs? Very well, it is all the same to me now.
Most of my kit-life was happy and naïve, as they all are. Then I did not realize my ambition. All I knew was I wanted to be the best warrior ever, as all kits do, but rarely every are. I knew, however, that I could truly be a legend if I tried hard enough.
Funny how fate taints one's name. I am a legend – one used to scare naughty kits, not spoken of in terms of wonder. See how life is cruel. I would have made the Clans great, but they would not listen.
My dreams became more vivid as I neared the age of apprenticeship – six moons. I could understand more and more with my growing vocabulary and sense of the world. It was always the same darkness as the first time I dreamt it, but now I could make out details in the orange blur – a tuft of fur, a flick of a tail, a brush of gray against the black. It seemed to be a cat. I had heard of medicine cats having dreams in which spirits spoke to them, and I was disgusted. I did not want to sit in a den all day, sorting herbs and berries, helping the weak and puny! My contribution to the Clan was with claws, not gentleness.
So I told no cat.
I still remember the first time I heard a voice in my dream. I had grown large for the nursery; my apprentice's ceremony would be soon. There were two new kits in the den, and I was anxious to become an apprentice at last. I lay awake in the soft moss, thinking about how hard I would train. I do not know when sleep finally set in – sometimes around moon-high, I'd guess. I was in the familiar darkness, deep and comforting.
The orange-amber blur appeared in a flicker of light. The edges merged with blackness, creating the absence of a definite line. Suddenly a shape appeared, one I had not ever seen before. It looked like a giant cat, ochre with jagged streaks of black lightning along its flank and head, with massive paws and a giant head. When it spoke, it spoke in a low rumble, thunder on the horizon, nothing I had ever heard before.
"Welcome, young one."
I was surprised. What was this creature, speaking to me? Imagine then, my delight when I realized that this cat I dreamed of was a tiger, the very creature I was named after.
"I am Tigerkit. Are you a tiger?"
The creature growled softly, which I later realized was the equivalent of a purr to the ancient cats. "A little tiger, you are!" It looked as though it would say more, but a burst of sunlight through the entrance to the nursery woke me, and I jolted back into the world.
"What-"
My mother, Poppyfur, was gone – presumably to the fresh kill pile, or dirt place. Silently I left the den. I was old enough that cats wouldn't be worried about me wandering near camp, as long as I didn't go too far. I figured that since my apprentice ceremony would be very soon, I could at least walk in the ravine outside the camp entrance without strict surveillance.
Half-tail was on guard. He was still a warrior then – what I mean, rogue, is that he was young enough to still have fighting strength. When I was in the height of my power he was an elder. Of course, the elders are too old to be anything but a burden to the Clan. Ha! If I had ruled, I would not have shown such weakness to the frail and futile! But you would not understand these things, of course. Or maybe you would – who knows? After all, you are a murderer too.
Do not look so ashamed. What's done is done, and we warriors of the Dark Forest shall be rewarded for it.
But back to my story.
Half-tail let me leave camp, saying that I had to stay at least three tail-lengths near the ravine. I agreed and left, walking into the forest.
I had gone much farther than three tail-lengths out of the gulch when I finally stopped and stared up at the sky. It was near sun-high, and as I stared up at the sky and the warmth of the sun heated my dark fur, I understood that there was something missing in my life. Power.
I was just a kit, but I realized that I would be leader. And I would not be just another warrior, just another apprentice who dreams of being the best. I would not just dream it, I would make it real. I knew.
I knew, as all great leaders do.