[Fawn]

In Rooster's not so modest opinion, there was no better time than the Time of Freed Water. Hard to believe that the Clan cats called it Greenleaf or something; they'd really tried hard for that one, huh? At least they named their seasons after what the mountain rivers were doing - because all life depended on water. It was the perfect time to rear a young to-be in the ways of Cave-Guards, when the Tribe had less reason to focus on prey, and there was a high chance of the to-be getting an eye-witness account of the many animals that lived in these mountains.

The sooner a cat learned what a fox looked like, the better.

"Up up up, Camelia! You're training to be a Cave-Guard now, and that means you get up when the sun gets up." And sometimes before that, if you were like him and Snake, prone to restlessness. It was easier to sleep peacefully through the night now that the Clan cats were gone. He could actually take a deep breath and smell Tribe and only Tribe. The way it should be.

Rooster's wide head swiveled until he caught sight of his niece, and his chest filled with pride of family and pride of rank. It was meaningful that he was training his sister's kit; Eagle tried so many times to become a Cave-Guard...but maybe now her dream could be realized, even if it was in the paws of the next generation. Should I have kits? Funny, he hadn't really thought about it. Siring a litter to help the Tribe was certainly something every tom and she-cat could consider, but Rooster's parents had formed a family not just out of duty or necessity, but out of genuine love for one another.

Didn't hurt to imagine that for himself, did it? Huh. This noncommittal, considering thought was the chip in the dam, and as more rocky, never-before-thought-of thoughts tumbled after it, he was quickly overwhelmed by so many things to think about that he abruptly stopped thinking. Never mind. He had a job to do today and that was ensuring this To-Be found her way into the glorious, noble ranking of Cave-Guard.

xvinn

[xvinn]

lone (camellia) in the sun (she/her) | tribe of forgotten waters

The young orange tabby she-cat gave a little huff of exasperation at the sound of her uncle's voice. Though she was not prone to restlessness like her uncle, she had certainly always been an early riser - Camellia liked to get up early so she could take some time to groom herself and make herself look as proper as she could. It was a routine that she followed, carefully brushing her paw over her ears and through her whiskers, taking care that her fur was clean and as flawless as it could - and should be. There was a pang of frustration in the to-be, wanting to make sure she looked as beautiful as she did every other day, but refusing to be nothing short of perfectly punctual for all of her lessons. To think that already she would have to pick one or the other to be less than perfect made her fur crawl.

Maybe she could figure out the way to get the best of both worlds. "Coming, my dear uncle!" she called out of her den, hoping that the brightness of her tone would indicate that she was wide awake and ready to start the day - in a quick moment, that was. Now afforded just a hare's breath of time more, Camellia stood on her paws and gave her lovely ginger coat a shake - while she wanted it to be as clean as possible, she did not want it to look glossy like a kit who'd just been overly groomed by their mother. Feeling satisfied by her work, she began to saunter her way out towards Rooster, her fluffy, feather-like tail held high in the air behind her with pride, carrying herself in a way that she were full of life and ready to learn.

As the sun shone down on her, it made the young cat's name practically spring to life. It was a gorgeous name in and of itself - the imagery of a single flower blooming, rays of sun being cast down upon it as though the ancestors above wanted to point out the beauty. Her deep amber eyes seemed to hold secrets behind them, but there was also a wavering glance as though to reassure anyone that they had nothing to worry about. Feeling adequate about her graceful entrance, Camellia made her way to Rooster, holding her chin high and her gaze soft, "I'm so sorry for making you wait," she purred sweetly, doing her best to gain some sympathy, "But I'm ready whenever you are!"

Fawn / rooster ● 439 words

[Fawn]

"Coming, my dear uncle!"

The sweetness took him by surprise, and being called an uncle - though it had happened thousand of times already - made Rooster do a double-take. He watched her approach with wide eyes, and then pride, as strong as a roaring river, flooded through his veins. This was his niece. His blood, and the future of the Tribe. She's going to grow up and be a protector, just like you. With a gleam in his eyes that carried hints of Rooster as a young to-be, that exuberant passion for his role still very much alive inside of him, Rooster beckoned Camelia after him.

"We're in for a long walk this morning, Camelia. I have to show you the Ring of Teeth. It's our boundary around the base of the mountainside. I know you were pretty young when the Cave was all packed up tighter than a seed pod, but we had those Clan cats around for a while. They're the reason we have the Ring of Teeth. It keeps them out." Otherwise they'd take over the whole cracked mountain. Selfish. Bolstered by the sound of his own voice, Rooster trotted ahead, careful not to outpace the she-cat whose excursions outside the cave could probably be counted on one set of paw.

The mountainside was bathed in light and shadow, the dawnshine beginning to chase back the darkness that dotted the landscape. But many stony nooks and weeded crannies were obscured, and the perfect hiding place for all sorts of creatures. But Rooster was looking up, craning his head every pawful of seconds. "Falcons usually hunt this early in the morning, because all the mice're awake. Let me know if you see something Camelia, and then I want you to hide." Rooster glanced back at his niece, noting her small size and bright coloring. She wasn't gonna like it, he was guessing, but he'd probably have to roll her around some mud.

---

xvinn | 320~ words

[xvinn]

lone (camellia) in the sun (she/her) | tribe of forgotten waters

Camellia took note in Rooster's tone when he spoke about the Clans. She could remember somewhat vaguely when they had lived with the Tribe, though she was rather young at the time. Her mother's own tone was quite similar to Rooster's, yet her opinions and voice were much clearer about her distaste of the Clan cats. It was something that Eagle had never hidden, and Camellia had very much picked up on that from her mother, listening to her complaints and soaking them in to her own feelings. She had, herself, begun to see the Tribe as mightier and superior, a sense of dignity and pride from being a Tribe cat rather than one from the Clans.

Now, Camellia was older and wiser in her moons. When she was a kitten, after the Clans had left, the tales that she'd overheard gave the she-cat odd pictures in her mind of what they looked like. She'd imagined them as grungy, dirty cats constantly fighting over every scrap of land and every morsel to eat. They could not live together in peace, and needed to constantly be at war or else their beetle-brains would rot away. The Tribe on the other hand were intellectual, noble and dignified, not seeing a need for such war, but it was frustrating all the same that they needed to make a border just to keep the Clans out - otherwise, they were probably too stupid to realize where they were and would just end up bumbling their way into Tribe lands and taking their prey. While Camellia understood now that they probably looked no different from her fellow Tribemates, she still had a painted idea in her mind of how they spoke and acted.

The ginger she-cat followed her uncle and guide out of the camp, doing her best to follow his advice every now and so and look up. At the same time though, she needed to look down every few paces simply to make sure that she would not fall. Camellia was certainly smaller than Rooster, but it was clear even at her age that she would likely grow to be a rather long-limbed, nimble cat. And though such a physique might make her a more prominent prey-hunter, she was prepared to prove herself worthy as a cave-guard, just as her own mother had tried to do. She was aware that a more lithe form meant that taking down creatures like falcons would require more wit and intelligence on her part, but thankfully, she was not lacking too greatly in that department, her tongue as sharp as her teeth. There was a part of Camellia that practically wanted to beg for something to try and outsmart her, so that she might try and sink her claws into its flesh and prove that she could be the perfect trifecta: beauty, brains and brawn.

"Perhaps you can show me where you laid your own stone?" Camellia said, somewhere between a question and an invitation in regards to the Ring of Teeth. "Snake was your guide, was he not? It makes me all the more eager to learn - knowing that you might help teach me in similar ways," she added, a faint purr to her sweet voice. She always sounded as though she were trying to intice something from who she was speaking to, but it was more likely habit more than anything, and it wasn't as though her words were false. It was an honour to know that her own uncle was once ushered through his own training by the cat who would become the Lead Cave-Guard, and to think she would be passed on similar information. Eagle had made it clear that Camellia would respect every word from Rooster as her guide, and from Snake as her superior. She hadn't necessarily spoken the same way to Doe about Leaf, but she brushed the thought off, instead doing her best to keep her dark amber gaze everywhere at once: on Rooster, on the path, on the sky, and on her surroundings should she need to duck into a hiding place.

Fawn / rooster ● 685 words