1 Corinthians 12:26
If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.
Chapter 1 - Companionship
A Clan is a group of cats coming together to live together, becoming a family. You cannot have a Clan without the members that are in it.
A Clan is the cats that are apart of it. The cats that make up a Clan are the Clan. We are not just a group of wild cats that live in the same territory; we are much more than that.
Without one another, we would not be able to survive. Without one another, we would not even be a Clan. If one member is treacherous, then others assume we all are, because we all are one. We all share a special bond, a kin-ship. Nothing can break us apart if we use that aspect to make us strong.
Yet, at the same time each cat is their own individual. Like broken fragments of a rock, each little piece is uniquely designed. Everyone is special in their own way. Once all the pieces are formed together, they make something up that is so much bigger then themselves alone.
Each of us influences one another, passing on traditions that our ancestors had formed long ago. Every one of us holds a special part in our Clan, whether large or small, it is still important. We should strive to do our best, no matter how small our task may be.
Most in this Clan hunt for food to keep us alive, giving to others before themselves. They fight to protect their home; they fight to stand for what they know is right. Lifting each other up and giving hope, when we feel all is lost.
Healing, to keep us physically healthy, belongs to the medicine cats. Caring for the wounded and the ill, they are vitally important. The darkness is contagious, appearing in many forms; sickness claims anyone who has fallen into its grasp. These special cats prepare remedies to mend the broken, in which these cats are useful to heal both physically and mentally.
Teaching and guiding to push us in the right direction, as StarClan does, is the tedious work of a leader. Our leader encourages us to move forward; he or she demonstrates a firm figure on which we can place our complete trust. Even during the hardest times, they will not abandon us in the Clan's greatest moment of need. Overall, we are guided by the cats up above, our leader is just an example of them. Because, leaders, too, follow the creatures inhabiting Silverpelt. If the one we look to in a sick time is weak in flesh himself, then there is not much to pull us together and keep us in place. Just one part gone awry can upset all there is.
Fighting and hunting help keep the Clan alive. It is all a cycle in which we live. If warriors did not fight to protect our territory, then we would not have anywhere to live, let alone hunt. If we could not hunt we could not find prey to eat. And if we could not eat, well, we would not be able to survive very long. These noble cats train young warriors, better known as apprentices, passing knowledge and skills - everything these mentors were taught during their lifetime.
In order to maintain the life of many Clan cats, young kits must be born. So, you see, every cat is as important as the next, even queens. Queens are more than what they seem, they would do anything to protect their kits. If every warrior had the fierce will to protect the Clan like their own kit, no one could stand against us.
Every cat, no matter how hard their job may be, is important. Our Clan would falter without the foundation we build it on, without the cats we have. If even the slightest component vanished, everything would crumble until it becomes nothing more than a pile of dust. Without love, without companionship.
When one member suffers, we all suffer. When one member is happy, we all are. We rejoice together during the good times; during the bad, we are all there for one another. Life would not be pleasant if we could not share it with someone else.
If you look closely, you will see what is hidden in the forest, the precious life and shelter it provides.
...
The Clan of the Rocks
Glimmering under the basking sun, large boulders scattered around a plain with small patches of grass growing on the stony ground - the only sign of plant life. The forest that flourished on the outskirts of this enclosure dappled the mountain in different places where these cats hunted to survive.
The jagged exterior of a cave bordered the camp in a curved shape, looking as if a giant paw had come down and scooped a deep hole in the mountains. It created a wide barrier for the life it protected, while the ominous drop off the edge guarded almost anything from the outside world. Not even the wildest cat would dare to ambush from its limit.
It confined it diligently, except for a narrow sliver in the back of the camp - wide enough for a cat to exit. Though, not open to any possible invasions from jumping atop of the cliff, there were no trees of any kind to safely cover the barren area, exposing them to predators from the sky.
Across the clearing, a large crack on the outside of the wall made an opening to a dark cavern. It held herbs gathered by the medicine cat, being prepared for any injuries and sicknesses that threatened to devour any creature in its path. Many of the large rocks placed in the clearing created a warm refuge for those inhabiting the rough area.
Those living there may not know how these large structures were carved on the inside, but they are certainly grateful for the safe haven it gives them.
...
A tall silver rock stood out in the middle of the plain, split in the center to provide a sheltered den for whoever remained inside. The ground inside was soft, comfortable for the play-fighting of energetic kits. Damp moss lay in the dark corners of the den, while light flitted through the opening of the crack, bringing in warmth from the bright rays of the sun.
A light gray queen lay peacefully in this solace. Her whiskers twitched in amusement while two tiny shapes stumbled around the nursery quite disturbingly.
Squealing with delight, a half-white, half-black she-kit pleaded, "Stop it!" Kicking up moss and dirt around the nursery, the two kits continued to roll over each other around the den.
"Stop it! I give in!" The kit giggled as she surrendered to their game.
A completely black she-kit pinned the other down, he feathery tail waving back and forth. "You always give in," she mewed in triumph, "and I always win!" Lifting her chin, a broad grin formed on her muzzle, and her emerald green eyes sparkled with pride.
Wriggling from under her den-mate, she said, "All right, all right, now let me up!"
The light gray queen let out a low, rumbling purr, her soft blue eyes gleaming with care. Watching the two kits reminded her to enjoy these moments; they would not last forever. She even remembered when she - herself - was a kit, always getting into mischief.
As a bright ginger tabby shifted in her sleep, the queen attempted to settle the rambunctious kits down, but they paid no attention.
"First you have to say it," the black she-kit demanded.
The other kit rolled her eyes, for this had happened many times before. She had gone through the same predicament, yet the little black - and - white she-kit did not mind too much.
"Please, O great leader, Ravenstar," she replied tauntingly, along with a slight smirk. "Now can you let me up?" A hint of annoyance entered her voice - but this annoyance did not last long.
"Come on, little ones. Settle down."
"But we want to play," the black kit objected, turning her head towards the she-cat that was watching over them at the moment.
The little she-kit, trapped by the other, took the opportunity to slither her way out. Sitting up nonchalantly, she began to gently lick her fore paw. While Ravenkit seemed to pay no notice that the cat she held captive had escaped.
"I'll tell you a story, Mask-kit," she coaxed, knowing how to get at least one of their attention.
The she-kit stopped mid-lick, amber eyes shining with excitement. She was a quiet listener, always loving whatever knowledge and stories her foster-mother had shared with her. Most importantly, she loved learning of Clan life and the warrior code; Mask-kit knew she would protect everything she held dear with her life.
Despite the energy the tiny kit had within her, she was very timid - too shy to play with anyone other than Ravenkit, who had effortlessly broken the shell Mask-kit was hiding in.
Always wanting to hear the soothing words of the cat that watched over her, the black - and - white kit was about run up to the queen and intently listen to her tales, but a black figure slammed into her side before she could. Making her land, once again, onto the dusty ground.
"Ooof," came in response to the blow.
"I don't want to hear those boring old tales from Pebblebrook again! I want to play," said the black she-kit, smiling.
"Come on! I want to hear a story," trying to persuade her friend, Mask-kit's eyes glowed with anticipation.
"Fine," she gave in with a dramatic tone.
The two kits padded up to the warmth of the queen, sitting together under Pebblebrook's soft glare.
Ravenkit started to bat at Mask-kit's ear; though, the little she-kit shook her head with subtle irritance in response.
As the kit continued to cause trouble, the queen gave her a scolding glance. Ravenkit laid her delicate ears back and with a disappointed look sat next to her friend.
Squirming with impatience, she finally rested her chin on her fuzzy paws. The black - and - white kit's eyes only gleamed with more enthusiasm. Unfazed by the uninterested black she-kit, Mask-kit eagerly padded over to her foster-mother and curled up next to her belly, nothing more than a mouse compared to the queen.
Lying her head down, she faintly purred as she sensed the queen's smooth voice flow around the den. She closely listened to Pebblebrook's tale, until she let herself slip into a deep sleep. Everything was slowly fading, colors blurring together, along with sounds.
"Sweet dreams," she mewed, carefully licking between the kit's ears.
...
Now, an older she-cat watched the glowing sun begin to sink behind the mountains, everything she had ever known.
I wonder what's beyond them.
She sat at the edge of a gorge, carefully setting herself in a firm position. Placing her tail lightly around her paws, she watched as the sun cast fused, gleaming colors over the sharp points of the peaks bordering her home. They painted the sky majestically, lingering over the horizon, over everything that was within sight and everything she held close to her heart.
Her Clan, StoneClan, lived in the rocky mountains. The cats inhabiting the rough area had to be strong, well-balanced. They used the cracks of the boulders to their advantage. Appearing out of no where in battle, they had to be decisive and intelligent. Most of these cats were able-bodied, strong, and clever, masking themselves as the mountain itself.
Other Clans were often afraid, none daring to venture into their territory. They assumed each cat was deceiving because of their strategies, but that was the exact opposite of her, the ones she knew at heart.
Though, she did want to see what was beyond those mountains. She wanted to explore, to see what the outside world had to offer her.
The she-cat's fur sparkled under the dimming light of the soft yellow above. Her face was patterned uniquely; it is only to be imagined as the tip of a diamond shape starting from the center her forehead and angling between golden eyes. The other end of this shape, however, was not visible as it merged with her almost completely white muzzle. A slanted part on the right side of this muzzle is darkened, the rest of her face a pure black color. The rest of her pelt was patched with few white over her chest and stomach, all the way to the tip of her tail. Being a slim, short-haired cat, she was lithe and cunning, hiding in the crevices of the land she lived in.
She had been a strange cat you might say; she was always nervous as an apprentice and felt bad for her mentors having to put up with her. Still being the closed, soft-spoken cat she was, her moral attitude was right.
Gazing in the distance, she observed the intricate design of the forest. One could look at a simple tree and see nothing but a tree – yet if a certain acceptive eye glanced at one, it could realize that all features represented something more, the society in which they lived. The stems branched out from one firm origin and were cemented off of that. Some branches were weak, some were worn and twisted, some were strong; though, even if those definitions affected other branches, they all relied on one foundation. And if perhaps the ground shook or the wind blew too hard, the trunk of the tree would fall, break, bringing every feature down with it. It was as a Clan was constructed.
What else is out there?
Snapping out of her profound thoughts, she heard a heavy noise behind her. Swiveling her ears back to identify the sound, she realized it was only the paw steps of her friend.
"Hey, Maskheart," her friend confronted.
An all black cat padded up, placing herself to sit beside Maskheart. Her friend was almost the complete opposite; though their basic beliefs were almost the same. Her black furred friend was outgoing, impertinent, stubborn, but she loved her like a litter-mate.
The she-cat's feathery long fur gave her the name she possessed.
Maskheart turned her head to face her friend. "Hello, Ravenfeather," she mewed smoothly. Placing her amber eyes back to the descending sunset, her silhouette was glimmering with the saffron hue.
"Is something bothering you?" Ravenfeather asked, a hint of concern in the cat's voice.
She was more of the one to notice the azure of the sky or the smell of what rare flowers grew inside her territory than to speak of the things that agitated her inside. Maskheart hid behind a different image of herself because it made her feel secure, but it gave her the ability to notice more than the average cat could realize.
She noticed subtleties that only the observant could see, making her lost in thoughts most of the time.
Maskheart hesitated, "No.. I'm fine."
She did want to be able to accept companionship as easily as she did when she was younger – but now things were simpler to keep things light on the outside, not as serious.
Arguing with herself that it was no use complaining about her flaws, she knew it was wrong to keep things from her friend. After all, Ravenfeather had been with Maskheart through everything, standing up for her when she was picked on, when she was hurting inside. Though, Ravenfeather couldn't always understand everything, couldn't be there when she needed to stand up for herself. It was nice having someone watch over you, but she was a warrior now. Maskheart needed to become more independent.
The cat looked down at her white, fuzzy paws, lost in thought once again. She fidgeted them in the dirt as the awkward moment loomed over her.
"Maskheart? You know you can't hide your feelings from me. We have know each other too long for me to not know that something is troubling you. Now talk to me," she prompted, using the same technique she had in their nursery days.
Everyone has something concerning on their mind now and then. Not her though, she always had something concerning on her mind, whether small or large it agitated her nevertheless. She felt as if it was useless trying to explain who she was to her friend, yet Ravenfeather already knew most of her anyway - even if Maskheart held secrets.
The loneliness was deadly.
She felt empty without the comfort of her best friend.
The colors slowly faded as the sun completely disappeared, until there was nothing more than the faint blue of the sky.
William Arthur Ward
A true friend knows your weaknesses but shows you your strengths; feels your fears but fortifies your faith; sees your anxieties but frees your spirit; recognizes your disabilities but emphasizes your possibilities.
Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.
1 Thessalonians 5:11
A friend should be one in whose understanding and virtue we can equally confide, and whose opinion we can value at once for its justness and its sincerity.
Robert Hall
A/N: This chapter is basically the introductory of the main characters. The plot hasn't started yet, because I decided it would be better to introduce the characters a little first. Keep reading, the third chapter is when the major plot begins.
Lesson:
This chapter's theme is companionship; the introductory was simply the queen, Pebblebrook, telling Mask-kit and Ravenkit of what it truly means. It is a bit hard for younger creatures to understand, but I hope you did - not thinking it was too confusing.
In conclusion, Maskheart wasn't being very honest with her friend. Without the comfort of Ravenfeather, or anyone, it led her to feel the burden of loneliness.
...
Ravenfeather belongs to my friend.
Characters and Plot © myself
Warriors Concept © Erin Hunter