Post by ♫.Starredmyst on Jan 27, 2008 17:46:12 GMT -5
[shadow=black,left,300]Ghost[/shadow]
"This ain't no bed of nails
But they're not roses just the same
God, this road sure can be long
Another endless day
Another seven hundred miles will take me further
From my home"
~3 Doors Down, ‘I Feel You’
SingxMyxName
Name. Ghost (Ghostpaw)
Warrior Name. Dunno. Ghostspirit?
Nicknames. Ghost
Gender. Male
Age. Seven moons
Birth Clan. the Spirit Thieves
Past Clans. none
Current Clan. none (IvoryClan)
Rank. Loner (Apprentice)
-.-.-.-
PleasexDon'txStare
Build. A bit on the small side, Ghost is long-legged and small-pawed. This can add an illusion of leanness to his appearance; however, he is actually quite muscular and apart from his legs tends to the stocky side.
Fur. At his birth, Ghost's fur was a pure, unadorned white -- however, within the first few weeks faint tabby marks began to show and he's still growing more similarly colored to his sister each time he sheds a coat; by the time he's an adult there will be solid patches of brown tabby color over each ear and down his tail (think Turkish Van, tabby version).
Eyes. Again, as a kit, Ghost's eyes regularly wandered between blue and green. They used to be a very deep turquoise sort of color; of late, however, they're mellowing and paling, and will be a pale jade green by the time he's finished growing.
Other. Around his neck Ghost wears a thin leather cord. At the end of it is a fan-shaped locket in the pattern of a shell, that opens down; made of dark wood and covered with a chipped blue-and-turquoise paint, it looks almost hand-made -- a deception revealed by the tiny machine-factored metal hinges where it opens. It's got a cord long enough to be used as some girl's necklace, but someone with clever altogether-too-human fingers tied it up so that he wouldn't be tripping all over it.
Personality. Even as a young cat, Ghost is quite reserved and just a little bit taciturn. It's not so much a fault, nor something caused by a problem in his past, as an honest part of who he is that he's got no intention of changing. Unbeknowst to those who take him at face value, he's got a bit of a trickster side, and takes a sort of dark humor from seeing others mess up. When he's in a particularly nasty mood he enjoys baiting the perfectionist side of his sister and seeing her get mad when she messes up. But he's got an honest, open laugh as well as his devious snicker, and when he's feeling sociable he can usually tease a smile out of almost anycat. He can be a bit silly sometimes, but it's not something he does in front of cats he doesn't know well.
Hobbies and talents. As mentioned before, Ghost can be a bit of a prankster. He enjoys scaring the tails off other cats and can wax eloquent on some of the tricks he's set up. He's a bit of a storyteller, and when he's being social a natural leader; he knows himself very well and while he doesn't do anything without thinking it out first, he's not one to hesitate when action is called for. He's oddly curious of Twolegs, almost a little bit fond of them.
Faults and dislikes. As mentioned before, Ghost can be a bit antisocial, and he gets into moods where he positively enjoys causing havoc. He's extremely tetchy about anyone touching or teasing him about his shell necklace, and has a tendency to be very self-conscious. He sometimes has unexpected mood swings, and hates oath-breakers and traitors with a passion.
-.-.-.-
HearxMyxSong
Parents. Cloud{deceased?} and Sparrow{deceased?}
Siblings. Canary
Teaching Me. None yet C=
Proteges. Haha, 'course not
Closer than a friend. Nope
After me. Nada
Other Family. No one of importance
Gone but unforgotten.
Cloud/Sparrow - Ghost lost contact with his parents along with the rest of his band, and doesn't know whether they live or died.
History.
The group of cats Ghost was born into didn't have a name for themselves.
A proud group of cats, they were, nomads of the city and the forest; they ruled whatever land they felt like that moon, and were fierce enough to scare off the true owners of the territory without flinching. Some of the cats might even go mad on the battlefield, and it seemed to frighten the defendant cats even more -- Ghost would smile quietly when the elders told him stories of this, and wonder to himself if the cats would be quite so frightened if they knew why the cats were going mad.
Cats in this nomad group were born without a soul. Personality and soul are not the same thing, you see; a cat can be utterly mad and still have personality, can they not? Until a young cat goes through their trial to become an adult, they are not properly alive. To gain a soul, cats must find something they can hang around their neck, to house that soul in -- and never, never let that necklace be lost or broken, for then their soul would fly away forever and the cat would go mad, an empty husk with nothing to return to the ancestors when their body gave out and died.
As a kit, of course, Ghost was quietly skeptical of this chain of belief. Not that he would know what a soul felt like, but he certainly felt like he had a soul; wasn't the soul supposed to tell you right from wrong, and that sort of thing? Of course, the elder told him the single time he dared voice the possibility, if you don't have a soul, of course thinking you need to get one feels wrong. Your mind doesn't know right from wrong yet.
Little did he know, he was going to learn this particular right-from-wrong far, far too soon.
Always in the past these nomad cats had been able to steal a particular junkyard in the city with no trouble from its original inhabitants. It was a smaller group of cats that lived there normally, weak and easily cowed; however, this time they seemed to have gotten a leader and were behaving quite ferociously. Wisely, the elders (being the wisest of cats, several of whom were still in fact youthful) decided it would be best to leave as quickly as possible to one of their forest homes; however, on reaching the forest they would not leave for at least six moons -- which meant those kits still in the nursery had to make the journey for their souls now, before they left, for they would be full adults before they could have this opportunity again.
Ghost was only five moons old at the time. Rarely, if ever, did cats make the attempt before they were six moons at least -- but time was of the essence, and so he and his sister were assigned an elder to show them the way things were done. No sooner decided than done; the very night after that elders' council, Ghost, Canary and a handful more of the eldest kits left on their first-ever journey away from home.
With a whispered good-luck he and Canary separated. Quietly, Ghost paced alongside his tutor, listening to the tom's instructions as they moved out toward a residential district. He was to find an open window and slip into it, steal something that looked an appropriate size to hang about his neck, put it on and hurry out.
"There," the tom whispered as they halted, "any of these three." They were lucky to be looking at this time of year, he explained; leaf-fall had fewer open windows than newleaf, but it was a warm autumn so it was better than it could have been, and certainly better than the tight-closed windows of leafbare.
Nervously, Ghost picked a window and stalked toward it. A single leap had him scrambling up into the darkened room; a quick glance from the windowsill showed him nothing to string on his neck, so he crept onto the big soft square beneath it --
Suddenly the bed beneath him moved, screeching, and a bright light flashed on. There was a Twolegger there, underneath him -- and as soon as she saw who it was, she smiled and began to chatter in a strange loud speak he didn't understand.
Her hand reached out and he tried not to flinch. Suddenly, he saw the thing hanging from her neck -- a necklace! Yes! Hoping, praying she'd understand, he reached out a paw and batted at the shell pendant.
The Twolegger giggled, touching the necklace, then said something and took it off her neck. Ghost waited, breath baited, terrified of the looming way she sat over him but in enough control to hold still as she tied the thing around his neck --
Then he was gone out the window, a flash and gone like his namesake.
The elder looked relieved as he returned; the older tom had probably heard the commotion. They began to walk back to their current residence, the elder quietly explaining how there would be a short ceremony, a formality, and they would leave the next day --
Then the next second he let out a frantic shriek as a flashing-eyed she-cat landed on him and ferociously tore the stone he wore off his neck. He curled in a ball, making strange noises --
And then he was dead with the she-cat on top of him, teeth and claws bloody. She let out a screech of triumph and Ghost stared in shock, realized what had happened and stopped thinking --
That act would be the attacker's last, but she wasn't alone.
The rest of the night was a chaos of fear and blood. The routed junkyard cats had heard of tonight's activities and thought it the perfect time to strike; they were right, and between the eldest of the kits out almost alone and the strongest cats no longer in camp, the band was practically decimated. In a panic, Ghost and Canary found each other, but the band had scattered; they had nowhere to go.
But the one place they had to go was out, away from this place. Their new souls marked them now. In a panicked daze, the two of them fled --
They spent the next moon hunting for the remnants of their band, unknowingly traveling farther and farther away from their home.
Since then.
By this point Ghost had given up on ever finding his family again. He and Canary approached Clan land warily; they had lost the road and hoped to find a way back, for neither of them much liked forests. They were found by the elder Longwhisker and warrior Silverstripe; after some debate Silverstripe led them to camp and introduced them to Patchstar. Patchstar, annoyed to be distracted, told Silverstripe to kill the young cats. An angry confrontation followed, and Silverstripe pretended to attack, letting the cats run off before the scene escalated to bloodshed.
Ghost and his sister are now lurking in Twolegplace, watching with despair as the Twoleggers begin to leave; they have no idea how they will survive the winter. Ghost is inclined to accept the offer of Secret, a rogue who will probably teach them survival skills if they help him take revenge on IvoryClan, but Canary dislikes the old tom and doesn't want to do it.
Companionship.
Canary - this she-cat is Ghost's sister, and though they have your typical sister-brother relationship and he'd die before admitting it, he loves and trusts her more than he does anyone else among the living.
Enmity.
Patchstar - Ghost despises this fat old tom with a passion. He hates the leader's superior attitude and careless disregard of something so important as a cat's life. When Secret suggested going after the Clan for revenge, Ghost seriously considered it thanks to Patchstar.
Otherwise known.
Silverstripe - this tom met Ghost and Canary when they first came to IvoryClan. Ghost has a sudden fierce appreciation for the courage of this tom, who let them escape rather than obey Patchstar and kill them.
Longwhisker - Ghost doesn't care at all for this elder, who didn't want him in the Clan, but appreciated her standing up for him when Patchstar threatened them.
Moonwhisker - although Ghost saw Moonwhisker arguing with Patchstar, he's not aware she's the deputy.
Mothflight - Ghost has only seen this tom once, but he's incredibly suspicious of the senior warrior. He has no idea how a Clan cat could come to possess a soul like his band's, but is convinced it can't be good.
Secret - despite Ghost's offhand agreement with Canary that this cat can bode no good, Ghost is oddly interested in Secret. He finds himself sympathizing with the old tom's aggression toward the Clan and is willing to admit to himself that revenge is something he'd love to have.
-.-.-.-
Pics
[kit-apprentice-warrior thing]
[mini banner v.WxNSD]
-.-.-.-
InxAddendum
.x♦x. Yeah. So Ghost's coming in with Canary. In case you were wondering, his necklace and the whole spirit thing comes straight from an EXTREMELY strange dream I had a while ago, version Warriors. xD
.x♦x. Rubish cow =3
-.-.-.-
ForgottenxMoments
The sun was setting, a golden crescent spreading its bloody light across the distant sky. More distant here than in camp, Ghost realized, gazing up with a quiet shiver; the looming shadows of the Twolegger dens around them were a mere echo of their true height, a height his own eyes could barely take in.
"Ghost." The voice was quiet, a warning. Flame was among the more subtle of the elders, doubtless the reason he and the young tom -- kit, really -- had been paired together for their mission. "Granite is speaking, if you please."
The young white cat gave a start and a quick nod, lifting his head and angling his ears toward Granite alertly. The smoky grey-brown tom who stood before the dozen or so cats around them was not one to be trifled with; though an elder in truth as well as title, he was a fierce old battler, stocky and sharp-eyed with plenty his share of scars. All young cats told horror stories of what he'd done to get some of those scars, and Ghost half believed every one of them. After all, it surely wouldn't have been easy to climb your way to the top of the loose group of cats called the elders, and urban legend said that was a position he'd held and held fiercely for a long, long time.
The young tomcat, however, had never done anything important enough to attract the interest of his formidable leader. Except for the being born part, but that was his queen's fault anyway. And besides...if it meant going on his first adventure early, it was worth attracting interest. Despite what doubts he'd had in the past about this particular adventure, Ghost felt a shiver of excitement at the thought; he had left home for the first time, and was about to make the crowning achievement of any cat's life.
Granite was giving a speech of some sort; Ghost half listened for a bit, ascertained that it was some sort of ceremonial fluff the elder tom had premeditated, and began to study the rest of the assembly out of the corners of his eyes. There were five other cats around his age; he knew all of them, and he and one other were the youngest. Lark and Reed were six moons to his five; Fern and Mist, a moon older than that. They were all of age for this ceremony.
He and Canary weren't.
Normally, young cats were given a few nights, as much as a quarter-moon sometimes, to complete this particular quest. Ghost's ear twitched as he heard the soft clink of the tags on the fabric collar Granite wore, and he flicked his tail once, nervously; there were stories about that too, and he was hoping it wasn't a story he himself would have to attempt to imitate.
Their band didn't have that much time.
The last hints of bloodred were dying in the sky, and there was a faint glitter from those few brave stars that dared show their face in the murky smog of the city. Ghost's half-attentive left ear caught the cadences of Granite's words and recognized that the speech must be ending; respectfully, the younger tom bowed his head as the revered elder stood, gave the young cats his blessing, and turned to go. The instant their leader was out of sight the young cats broke out in hissing, excited whispers, herded along toward the innards of this city where they lived.
It was not long before they halted, slender shadows in the middle of an intersection that must surely have been as wide as the junkyard where they lived, and Ghost realized that this was It. They'd be parting now, each with the individual elder lent to guide them through this first and most important trial. Quickly, before Flame could think to stop him, the young cat slipped through the small crowd and over to a pale form he knew very, very well.
The tomkit twined his tail with his sister's before she saw he had come, for the briefest moment pressing his thin white body against her ginger-patched one. He could feel his own heart pounding, and hers in rhythm with it; knew for that one instant she must be as nervous and excited as he was, and pulled away before she could see the same of him. He had to be strong.
Pale jade-green eyes locked on dull amber, each a mirror of the other's emotions; for a long moment they stood like that, and neither say a word. But then Ghost started, hearing the call of his name, and quickly turned to meet with Flame.
"Good luck, Canary," he whispered, and they both hurried away.
[/center][/size]"This ain't no bed of nails
But they're not roses just the same
God, this road sure can be long
Another endless day
Another seven hundred miles will take me further
From my home"
~3 Doors Down, ‘I Feel You’
SingxMyxName
Name. Ghost (Ghostpaw)
Warrior Name. Dunno. Ghostspirit?
Nicknames. Ghost
Gender. Male
Age. Seven moons
Birth Clan. the Spirit Thieves
Past Clans. none
Current Clan. none (IvoryClan)
Rank. Loner (Apprentice)
-.-.-.-
PleasexDon'txStare
Build. A bit on the small side, Ghost is long-legged and small-pawed. This can add an illusion of leanness to his appearance; however, he is actually quite muscular and apart from his legs tends to the stocky side.
Fur. At his birth, Ghost's fur was a pure, unadorned white -- however, within the first few weeks faint tabby marks began to show and he's still growing more similarly colored to his sister each time he sheds a coat; by the time he's an adult there will be solid patches of brown tabby color over each ear and down his tail (think Turkish Van, tabby version).
Eyes. Again, as a kit, Ghost's eyes regularly wandered between blue and green. They used to be a very deep turquoise sort of color; of late, however, they're mellowing and paling, and will be a pale jade green by the time he's finished growing.
Other. Around his neck Ghost wears a thin leather cord. At the end of it is a fan-shaped locket in the pattern of a shell, that opens down; made of dark wood and covered with a chipped blue-and-turquoise paint, it looks almost hand-made -- a deception revealed by the tiny machine-factored metal hinges where it opens. It's got a cord long enough to be used as some girl's necklace, but someone with clever altogether-too-human fingers tied it up so that he wouldn't be tripping all over it.
Personality. Even as a young cat, Ghost is quite reserved and just a little bit taciturn. It's not so much a fault, nor something caused by a problem in his past, as an honest part of who he is that he's got no intention of changing. Unbeknowst to those who take him at face value, he's got a bit of a trickster side, and takes a sort of dark humor from seeing others mess up. When he's in a particularly nasty mood he enjoys baiting the perfectionist side of his sister and seeing her get mad when she messes up. But he's got an honest, open laugh as well as his devious snicker, and when he's feeling sociable he can usually tease a smile out of almost anycat. He can be a bit silly sometimes, but it's not something he does in front of cats he doesn't know well.
Hobbies and talents. As mentioned before, Ghost can be a bit of a prankster. He enjoys scaring the tails off other cats and can wax eloquent on some of the tricks he's set up. He's a bit of a storyteller, and when he's being social a natural leader; he knows himself very well and while he doesn't do anything without thinking it out first, he's not one to hesitate when action is called for. He's oddly curious of Twolegs, almost a little bit fond of them.
Faults and dislikes. As mentioned before, Ghost can be a bit antisocial, and he gets into moods where he positively enjoys causing havoc. He's extremely tetchy about anyone touching or teasing him about his shell necklace, and has a tendency to be very self-conscious. He sometimes has unexpected mood swings, and hates oath-breakers and traitors with a passion.
-.-.-.-
HearxMyxSong
Parents. Cloud{deceased?} and Sparrow{deceased?}
Siblings. Canary
Teaching Me. None yet C=
Proteges. Haha, 'course not
Closer than a friend. Nope
After me. Nada
Other Family. No one of importance
Gone but unforgotten.
Cloud/Sparrow - Ghost lost contact with his parents along with the rest of his band, and doesn't know whether they live or died.
History.
The group of cats Ghost was born into didn't have a name for themselves.
A proud group of cats, they were, nomads of the city and the forest; they ruled whatever land they felt like that moon, and were fierce enough to scare off the true owners of the territory without flinching. Some of the cats might even go mad on the battlefield, and it seemed to frighten the defendant cats even more -- Ghost would smile quietly when the elders told him stories of this, and wonder to himself if the cats would be quite so frightened if they knew why the cats were going mad.
Cats in this nomad group were born without a soul. Personality and soul are not the same thing, you see; a cat can be utterly mad and still have personality, can they not? Until a young cat goes through their trial to become an adult, they are not properly alive. To gain a soul, cats must find something they can hang around their neck, to house that soul in -- and never, never let that necklace be lost or broken, for then their soul would fly away forever and the cat would go mad, an empty husk with nothing to return to the ancestors when their body gave out and died.
As a kit, of course, Ghost was quietly skeptical of this chain of belief. Not that he would know what a soul felt like, but he certainly felt like he had a soul; wasn't the soul supposed to tell you right from wrong, and that sort of thing? Of course, the elder told him the single time he dared voice the possibility, if you don't have a soul, of course thinking you need to get one feels wrong. Your mind doesn't know right from wrong yet.
Little did he know, he was going to learn this particular right-from-wrong far, far too soon.
Always in the past these nomad cats had been able to steal a particular junkyard in the city with no trouble from its original inhabitants. It was a smaller group of cats that lived there normally, weak and easily cowed; however, this time they seemed to have gotten a leader and were behaving quite ferociously. Wisely, the elders (being the wisest of cats, several of whom were still in fact youthful) decided it would be best to leave as quickly as possible to one of their forest homes; however, on reaching the forest they would not leave for at least six moons -- which meant those kits still in the nursery had to make the journey for their souls now, before they left, for they would be full adults before they could have this opportunity again.
Ghost was only five moons old at the time. Rarely, if ever, did cats make the attempt before they were six moons at least -- but time was of the essence, and so he and his sister were assigned an elder to show them the way things were done. No sooner decided than done; the very night after that elders' council, Ghost, Canary and a handful more of the eldest kits left on their first-ever journey away from home.
With a whispered good-luck he and Canary separated. Quietly, Ghost paced alongside his tutor, listening to the tom's instructions as they moved out toward a residential district. He was to find an open window and slip into it, steal something that looked an appropriate size to hang about his neck, put it on and hurry out.
"There," the tom whispered as they halted, "any of these three." They were lucky to be looking at this time of year, he explained; leaf-fall had fewer open windows than newleaf, but it was a warm autumn so it was better than it could have been, and certainly better than the tight-closed windows of leafbare.
Nervously, Ghost picked a window and stalked toward it. A single leap had him scrambling up into the darkened room; a quick glance from the windowsill showed him nothing to string on his neck, so he crept onto the big soft square beneath it --
Suddenly the bed beneath him moved, screeching, and a bright light flashed on. There was a Twolegger there, underneath him -- and as soon as she saw who it was, she smiled and began to chatter in a strange loud speak he didn't understand.
Her hand reached out and he tried not to flinch. Suddenly, he saw the thing hanging from her neck -- a necklace! Yes! Hoping, praying she'd understand, he reached out a paw and batted at the shell pendant.
The Twolegger giggled, touching the necklace, then said something and took it off her neck. Ghost waited, breath baited, terrified of the looming way she sat over him but in enough control to hold still as she tied the thing around his neck --
Then he was gone out the window, a flash and gone like his namesake.
The elder looked relieved as he returned; the older tom had probably heard the commotion. They began to walk back to their current residence, the elder quietly explaining how there would be a short ceremony, a formality, and they would leave the next day --
Then the next second he let out a frantic shriek as a flashing-eyed she-cat landed on him and ferociously tore the stone he wore off his neck. He curled in a ball, making strange noises --
And then he was dead with the she-cat on top of him, teeth and claws bloody. She let out a screech of triumph and Ghost stared in shock, realized what had happened and stopped thinking --
That act would be the attacker's last, but she wasn't alone.
The rest of the night was a chaos of fear and blood. The routed junkyard cats had heard of tonight's activities and thought it the perfect time to strike; they were right, and between the eldest of the kits out almost alone and the strongest cats no longer in camp, the band was practically decimated. In a panic, Ghost and Canary found each other, but the band had scattered; they had nowhere to go.
But the one place they had to go was out, away from this place. Their new souls marked them now. In a panicked daze, the two of them fled --
They spent the next moon hunting for the remnants of their band, unknowingly traveling farther and farther away from their home.
Since then.
By this point Ghost had given up on ever finding his family again. He and Canary approached Clan land warily; they had lost the road and hoped to find a way back, for neither of them much liked forests. They were found by the elder Longwhisker and warrior Silverstripe; after some debate Silverstripe led them to camp and introduced them to Patchstar. Patchstar, annoyed to be distracted, told Silverstripe to kill the young cats. An angry confrontation followed, and Silverstripe pretended to attack, letting the cats run off before the scene escalated to bloodshed.
Ghost and his sister are now lurking in Twolegplace, watching with despair as the Twoleggers begin to leave; they have no idea how they will survive the winter. Ghost is inclined to accept the offer of Secret, a rogue who will probably teach them survival skills if they help him take revenge on IvoryClan, but Canary dislikes the old tom and doesn't want to do it.
Companionship.
Canary - this she-cat is Ghost's sister, and though they have your typical sister-brother relationship and he'd die before admitting it, he loves and trusts her more than he does anyone else among the living.
Enmity.
Patchstar - Ghost despises this fat old tom with a passion. He hates the leader's superior attitude and careless disregard of something so important as a cat's life. When Secret suggested going after the Clan for revenge, Ghost seriously considered it thanks to Patchstar.
Otherwise known.
Silverstripe - this tom met Ghost and Canary when they first came to IvoryClan. Ghost has a sudden fierce appreciation for the courage of this tom, who let them escape rather than obey Patchstar and kill them.
Longwhisker - Ghost doesn't care at all for this elder, who didn't want him in the Clan, but appreciated her standing up for him when Patchstar threatened them.
Moonwhisker - although Ghost saw Moonwhisker arguing with Patchstar, he's not aware she's the deputy.
Mothflight - Ghost has only seen this tom once, but he's incredibly suspicious of the senior warrior. He has no idea how a Clan cat could come to possess a soul like his band's, but is convinced it can't be good.
Secret - despite Ghost's offhand agreement with Canary that this cat can bode no good, Ghost is oddly interested in Secret. He finds himself sympathizing with the old tom's aggression toward the Clan and is willing to admit to himself that revenge is something he'd love to have.
-.-.-.-
Pics
[kit-apprentice-warrior thing]
[mini banner v.WxNSD]
-.-.-.-
InxAddendum
.x♦x. Yeah. So Ghost's coming in with Canary. In case you were wondering, his necklace and the whole spirit thing comes straight from an EXTREMELY strange dream I had a while ago, version Warriors. xD
.x♦x. Rubish cow =3
-.-.-.-
ForgottenxMoments
The sun was setting, a golden crescent spreading its bloody light across the distant sky. More distant here than in camp, Ghost realized, gazing up with a quiet shiver; the looming shadows of the Twolegger dens around them were a mere echo of their true height, a height his own eyes could barely take in.
"Ghost." The voice was quiet, a warning. Flame was among the more subtle of the elders, doubtless the reason he and the young tom -- kit, really -- had been paired together for their mission. "Granite is speaking, if you please."
The young white cat gave a start and a quick nod, lifting his head and angling his ears toward Granite alertly. The smoky grey-brown tom who stood before the dozen or so cats around them was not one to be trifled with; though an elder in truth as well as title, he was a fierce old battler, stocky and sharp-eyed with plenty his share of scars. All young cats told horror stories of what he'd done to get some of those scars, and Ghost half believed every one of them. After all, it surely wouldn't have been easy to climb your way to the top of the loose group of cats called the elders, and urban legend said that was a position he'd held and held fiercely for a long, long time.
The young tomcat, however, had never done anything important enough to attract the interest of his formidable leader. Except for the being born part, but that was his queen's fault anyway. And besides...if it meant going on his first adventure early, it was worth attracting interest. Despite what doubts he'd had in the past about this particular adventure, Ghost felt a shiver of excitement at the thought; he had left home for the first time, and was about to make the crowning achievement of any cat's life.
Granite was giving a speech of some sort; Ghost half listened for a bit, ascertained that it was some sort of ceremonial fluff the elder tom had premeditated, and began to study the rest of the assembly out of the corners of his eyes. There were five other cats around his age; he knew all of them, and he and one other were the youngest. Lark and Reed were six moons to his five; Fern and Mist, a moon older than that. They were all of age for this ceremony.
He and Canary weren't.
Normally, young cats were given a few nights, as much as a quarter-moon sometimes, to complete this particular quest. Ghost's ear twitched as he heard the soft clink of the tags on the fabric collar Granite wore, and he flicked his tail once, nervously; there were stories about that too, and he was hoping it wasn't a story he himself would have to attempt to imitate.
Their band didn't have that much time.
The last hints of bloodred were dying in the sky, and there was a faint glitter from those few brave stars that dared show their face in the murky smog of the city. Ghost's half-attentive left ear caught the cadences of Granite's words and recognized that the speech must be ending; respectfully, the younger tom bowed his head as the revered elder stood, gave the young cats his blessing, and turned to go. The instant their leader was out of sight the young cats broke out in hissing, excited whispers, herded along toward the innards of this city where they lived.
It was not long before they halted, slender shadows in the middle of an intersection that must surely have been as wide as the junkyard where they lived, and Ghost realized that this was It. They'd be parting now, each with the individual elder lent to guide them through this first and most important trial. Quickly, before Flame could think to stop him, the young cat slipped through the small crowd and over to a pale form he knew very, very well.
The tomkit twined his tail with his sister's before she saw he had come, for the briefest moment pressing his thin white body against her ginger-patched one. He could feel his own heart pounding, and hers in rhythm with it; knew for that one instant she must be as nervous and excited as he was, and pulled away before she could see the same of him. He had to be strong.
Pale jade-green eyes locked on dull amber, each a mirror of the other's emotions; for a long moment they stood like that, and neither say a word. But then Ghost started, hearing the call of his name, and quickly turned to meet with Flame.
"Good luck, Canary," he whispered, and they both hurried away.
