Windcry had always thought himself as a sophisticated, civilized cat. He was well-groomed, tall, charming, distant and cold; he was everything needed to be a rich snob atop a glistening hill overlooking some flowery slope. The truth was, he was far from. He was born a loner with no father, and his mother had died when he was barely old enough to hunt for himself. His sister left him. He had never had a single friend in his life, and he had grown up being treated less than a rat on the street. He was a piece of matter passing through space, not worth much and not leaving much of an imprint in his wake. So what had brought him to Oneclan? And what had they seen in him? It was a question he’d been pondering all day, with only being accepted into the clan a few moons earlier. It had caused him to wander out into the territory, to get away from the main camp and to be in his own thoughts for a moment.
His thoughts had led him to the Mossy Clearing, a unique and beautiful place known for training apprentices and relaxing. The ground was soft, comfortable, and inviting. The tall tom bounced over it for a moment, before he leapt nimbly to a rock and sat down, scanning the clearing. Then, he lay on his belly, tucking his front paws underneath him. Not many other cats were out here today, and he thought over the apprentices that have come and gone in this same clearing. He wondered if, or when, he would have one as his own. He let out a dark chuckle at his, a shadow passing over his eyes as he looked to the sky. He doubted the clan would trust him with an apprentice, or even thought him fit enough to be a mentor. He certainly didn’t hold himself in very high esteem.
It hadn’t been long before a short breeze picked up, ruffling the fur along Windcry’s body. It reminded him of the warrior name he was given, forgetting his born name to take on a new life, a new identity. It still seemed weird to him to let the name go, and he wondered every once in awhile why he’d been given the name he now owned. He always assumed he’d be more of a “Coldheart,” for his cold heart. This amused him, and he smiled to himself. “Oh, Lythe. If only you could see me now.”
Frustration tickled at the tom; causing his fur to prickle slightly. Training was feeling as though it was taking so long - too long. Alpha seemed to be advancing him; making leaps and bounds of progress, while he...He was still focusing on very basic skills. It was rare for Epsilon to be upset by something so trivial, but he felt a surge of determination. With the formation of OneClan; more and more warriors seemed to have their eyes on him. A former loner, a son to the biggest player in all three clans. Wavestep was no father to him though. Unlike Omega and Alpha, he had no desire in seeking his approval or acceptance. He only wanted to prove to himself that he could be a real warrior, no matter his background. Background was just that; right?
The warrior in-training exhaled fairly loudly as he explosively sprang down from the tree overhanging in the mossy clearing. The Bengal had long legs and an agile structure; quickly taking to climbing trees whenever he got the chance. Alas, OneClan had few and far between, though.
A gentle breeze pushed past the apprentice followed by the muttering of another. The voice vaguely familiar, but not by a cat he knew simply by tone. The golden rosette feline slowly followed the muttering, curiosity getting the better of the young tom. His bright eyes transitioned across to a rock where a ebony tom sat. At first Epsilon presumed he was here training an apprentice, but with no shrill squeaks or tiny paws, it became apparent that he was merely relaxing in the clearing.
The tall apprentice approached and shot a smile towards the dark furred male. Wearing his name proudly, he bowed his head, "Hi. Names' Epsilon. What is your name?" He asked. The scent of the black figure was on his tongue, but he simply could not place it. Being an apprentice was a challenge. So many names, so little time.
The sound of another approaching brought Windcry out of his thoughts as he turned his eyes to see a tall, spotted cat approaching with a smile and a sentence on the tongue. Words traveled past his ears, and what he heard seemed to shock him for a mere moment. "Epsilon?" he murmured for a moment, seemingly confused, before he looked around quickly, stood up abruptly and leapt down to where the other cat stood. "What a peculiar name," he answered, looking down his nose for a moment at the other cat, scanning him. He seemed young, apprentice-age. Windcry wondered who his mentor was for a moment. A small smile came across his dark features, and he lowered his head just a bit to a less threatening angle. In his mind, the name had sounded rather loner-ish, and the loners needed to stick together. "I'm Windcry," he stated smoothly, accompanied by a rather ravishing smile. Then, he sat down, tucking his tail around his lean form as he gazed at this newcomer. "Why are you here, Epsilon?" Windcry asked calmly, trying to strike up conversation. Though, it came off as somewhat threatening instead, and the tom's ears flicked a bit at the sound of his voice. He was never very good at conversation or small talk. He was rather a cat of silence, or else threats. Anything in between felt awkward and forced, hiccuping off his tongue at weird angles that made his charming voice sound rather harsh. But he was unapologetic for the tone of his voice. If it weren't for those shrill words, he would have been much less than he is now. Perhaps lying in the grass somewhere with glazed over eyes. It was these words that had saved his life countless times. Why should he be sorry for that?
This is not what i originally had planned for this post ahaha
The spotted leopard-like tom lowered one ear gradually as the other tasted his name, trying it out for size. He remarked that it was peculiar. The tom lowered his bright amber gaze, adverting it from Windcry's expression. The name was unusual; he knew that, he wore the name of a loner, an outsider. The leaders had not asked him to change it and he would not like to. The names of warriors were for those believing in the ancestors - StarClan, they called it. Epsilon did not hold such thoughts of value. StarClan was fictional in his mind, stories told to keep naughty kits in check.
"Yes, Epsilon," he replied, answering slowly. "I was born out of the clans. But, we traveled to MoorClan about a moon prior to the merge. We still hold our original names; Omega, Alpha and myself," he explained. The tom didn't utter a word about Midnight. The inky feline who passed what felt like only recently, but was in fact maybe 3 or 4 moons passed now..Epsilon was not in the mood to talk about his useless, cheating father either, and so he did not elaborate more on the story. And, for once, he was glad someone was not quick to mention it. Wavestep's little bundle of mistakes. You look just like him.
The apprentice pricked up his ears as Windcry introduced himself. The tom was as dark as Midnight had been, but had faint strokes almost like stripes. "A pleasure to meet you," he meowed; gently nodding. Epsilon had not learned much from his parents about manners. Midnight had been a loner for as long as he knew and Wavestep was a poor excuse for a warrior, really. But, OneClan had brushed him up on his manners, honing his warmth and attention to detail.
Why are you here? The question startled the tom for a moment before he recalled the clan's laws. Apprentices weren't allowed out on their own unless they had permission. Right, yeah. Epsilon truly thought the rules were as thick as mud, considering he had been on his own in the forests many times when Midnight was off searching for food. Or, he had wandered a little too far. He always found his way though. "Oh, uh, I was just searching for some prey," he explained, "I'm trying to get better with my skills." Epsilon had asked for permission to hunt on his lonesome and he was granted it. Although he felt he was moving slowly with his skills, he was given some flexibility to learn on his own which..Wasn't too bad.