Warnings: discussions of cat biology, and the implications that has if the cats are sapient. A little dark, but not bad or explicit at all. Just something I feel was overlooked in the series, perhaps because we didn't have any female protagonists who weren't born in the clan.

The Hybrid

Chapter 3

Initiation

The decision had been made; Firestar wove around the forms of Cinderpelt and I in his den and disappeared outside, his tail beckoning. I eyed it dubiously, wondering if there were some complexities to tail-gestures which eluded me, and followed at the relatively slow heels of Cinderpelt. I was emerging from the little crevice when Firestar's voice, high and resounding, called out from the large rock above.

"Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

That was an interesting way to assemble one's own tribe. They determined citizenship based on one's use to the whole, then? That's what I could assume from the reference to 'all those old enough to catch their own prey'. How old was that age? Was it as soon as one was a proven hunter, or was there a set time?

I pushed aside my thoughts and approached, tentatively, the base of the rock, glancing at Cinderpelt. She met my gaze and made a very slight gesture to the side of the rock, markedly separate from where she was moving to sit among the other cats. Other cats, of whom there were many. My fur prickled in an immediate fear response, and I tensed – they were all looking at me. Some seemed curious, but that was the most benign emotion I found in the crowd of eyes. Some were suspicious, others accusative, others openly hostile with flattened ears and narrow pupils. A faint susurrus of hissing rose like a rustling breeze, quiet enough that its source was hard to identify.

Quite certain that my fur was at least a little raised along my spine, I made a conscious effort to relax and stare back with level neutrality. These are cats, I told myself. Cats. Intelligent, yes. Emotional, yes. But while they grew up in primitive clans, raised on their limited truths, I was raised among the human race, who master the planet. I can at will become larger and stronger than they could kill. I have no reason to fear them, or to feel inferior and vulnerable. It was, nonetheless, one thing to think it and another entirely to feel it, like so much I'd experienced already in the bewildering fantasy my life had become. Still, it was easier to avoid cowering with such thoughts in mind. I faced them unflinchingly as Firestar spoke.

"Although life in the forest is growing more and more difficult, it is my decision that I will offer this cat a place in the clan as an apprentice of-"

His voice, clear and carrying, was interrupted by a flurry of hissing and outraged yowls. I listened to the chorus, inhaling deeply and quietly. I drew away from my emotions, stepped aside from them, and observed with a clinical gaze. There were the expected protests; the clan was starving already, outsiders can't be trusted, they don't know our ways...I was interested, though, to notice the accusations of treachery and softness levied at their leader. There was clearly no proper discipline here at all. The hierarchy was barely solid at all, most likely held together more by imprinted religious dogma than by any real social structure. I did notice that the cats who had found me were silent, and looked calculating rather than mutinous. StarClan carried a lot of weight here.

Firestar allowed the commotion to continue for a while, and then cut through it with a cutting yowl. "Enough, ThunderClan! If you had stayed quiet, I would have explained my reasoning to you! Instead you behave like kits, too impatient to listen!" Ire was written all over him – his eyes were narrowed, his lips drawn back into the hint of a snarl, and his shoulders were drawn upwards into threatening largeness – but it was fearless. He did not fear for the retribution of his clan, perhaps because of that deeply entrenched religion, or perhaps because he truly believed in his own leadership and himself. Either way, I reassessed my previous thoughts a little, at least with regards to Firestar; I couldn't say how well other leaders might fare in this kind of structure, but he seemed to have enough mettle to be leader among such dissent.

And they even looked a little chagrined, at his words! That was interesting. They'd been almost a mob mere moments before – now they subsided, still agitated and still hissing lowly, but no longer in open rebellion against his decisions. Why? How did that even work? Was the belief in StarClan and its imposed hierarchy so very important to them, or was there something else? How did the physicality of being a cat affect such human concepts as society and cooperation? I felt my interest climb noticeably – it perhaps wasn't the best idea to view my future as the kind of sociological study I'd learned about in Sixth Form, but it felt that way nonetheless.

Looking a little less annoyed, faced with the submission of his clan, Firestar straightened and spoke again. "Last half-moon, our medicine cat and her-" was there hesitation there? "apprentice received a sign from StarClan."

I looked around, and saw indeed that everyone fell utterly silent at the words. Every minute I spent here seemed to affirm these cats' utter obsession with their 'warrior ancestors'...which, I supposed, was fair enough. Millions of humans had fought and died in holy wars, committed awful atrocities in the names of their religion, and none of them had concrete evidence that their beliefs were founded in fact. These cats, it seemed, did. If they had the power to resurrect the dead, or transform a human into an abomination, perhaps they deserved being worshipped.

Satisfied at the silence, Firestar motioned to Cinderpelt, who came to stand beside me and meowed. "StarClan sent me a dream of a cat with fur like moonlight. To Leafpaw, they did the same, and cautioned us to not turn her away. I cannot say what role this cat may have in the future of our clan, but it would go against StarClan completely to refuse her a place with us."

There was a brief quiet, and then that tabby Dustpelt spoke up. "How can you be sure that this is the cat StarClan spoke of?"

Cinderpelt's voice, when she answered, contained an impressive degree of sarcasm. I couldn't even figure out how, cats didn't really have tones of voice as such, it was as much body language as vocalisation. "I received a dream of a cat with fur like moonlight, illuminated by the light of the full moon," She spoke, dryly. "The full moon directly afterwards, you find her and the first you see of her is in the light of the full moon. Do you expect StarClan themselves to descend from Silverpelt to yowl in your ears? Little else could be still more obvious than that!"

"That's enough, Cinderpelt," Firestar warned with a little amusement, watching Dustpelt shrink back defensively. "I think you've made your point clear." He ran his gaze sternly over the assembled cats, as if to demand hasn't she? Well?

I allowed myself to mellow slightly from my stiffly maintained emotional distance, now that there were more intrigued eyes than hostile ones. Still, I wished there had been some other reasonable way to do it; it was quite a lot of pressure, being a cat sent by their all-important deities. I'd have preferred to avoid too much scrutiny, but I suppose that would have been impossible anyway, what with my being a very distinctive outsider.

"Well then. Now that you have listened and understood my reasoning, I trust that there are no complaints?" He looked over his subjects archly, his eyes practically daring someone to speak out against him again. I began to wonder if he'd been under more stress than just the demolition recently, he seemed a little on edge to me. I could hardly trust my ability to read the finer emotions of cats already, though, so resolved not to read too much into it. To his near-disappointment, no one denied him, and he sat back with satisfaction, looking over the cats thoughtfully.

I was startled by Cinderpelt inching closer, nudging my with her tail, and whispering discreetly "Firestar will give you a new name, and then name you a mentor. You should then touch noses."

I blinked at her gratefully, noting for future thought that blinking seemed as much a gesture of friendliness as smiling among cats. Maybe more. It felt somewhat like that.

Nodding to himself, Firestar spoke with renewed clarity and volume, drawing eyes like moths to a flame. "Then, before the eyes of StarClan, this cat will become an apprentice of ThunderClan. From this day forward, until she has earned her warrior name, she will be known as Moonpaw." I tilted my head slightly at the new name. It made sense, I suppose. I sat and waited for a mentor to be named. "Rainwhisker," Called Firestar with finality, making a particular tomcat startle. "you have been a credit to the Clan as an apprentice and as a warrior. Now it is time for you to have an apprentice of your own, and pass on your skills and knowledge."

The dark grey tom, with his wide blue eyes, didn't look particularly prepared for the responsibility, but he rallied admirably and stepped forwards from the others. I also stepped forwards, trying to let my nervousness and hesitance slip away from me like rain from a leaf. I'm not particularly sure how successful I was, but I reached my mentor without incident, and touched noses with him. I wondered what I would learn from him. It was, actually, quite exciting.

Feeling suddenly optimistic, I didn't feel especially put-out by the rather lack-lustre call of "Moonpaw!" that went out among the cats. I merely glanced over them, ears twitching, and tried to identify which cats seemed most amiable.

Firestar said something, some form of dismissal, and the cats dispersed steadily. I was more focused on my mentor and my surroundings, though, head swimming and heart a little overwhelmed with all the conflicting feelings of the situation. I noticed a smaller white cat approach hesitantly from the corner of my eye as Rainwhisker gestured me aside for a quick word.

"Yes, Rainwhisker?" I inquired politely, waiting obediently for any instruction he might issue. I should make an effort to conform, until I was a little more entrenched in the Clan, and my novelty had faded.

The adult tom looked a little conflicted at his new position. I supposed he had his doubts, but was also a loyal warrior of this clan, who respected his responsibilities? Perhaps he was a little disappointed at receiving a controversial outsider as his first apprentice, perhaps he was a little unsure about how to mentor a StarClan-issue cat. Either way, he addressed me with perfect courtesy that wasn't quite strong enough to hide his vague agitation. "Make sure you are awake at dawn," He instructed. "We will be touring the territory, and acquainting you with its features. Perhaps we can also do some training afterwards."

I itched to ask about the training, but merely dipped my head. "Yes, Rainwhisker." I answered. I didn't know to what degree apprentices were expected to be obedient, but I would err on the side of caution, even if what I'd seen of the hierarchy implied that discipline was loose at best.

I thought I detected something akin to relief, or approval, in the minute shifting of his body. Cat speak was confusing. "Good." He nodded, and walked away.

The white cat I'd spotted earlier took his exit as a sign that she could approach. I regarded her with polite interest as she approached me and sniffed politely a few inches from my face; after a pause I did the same. "My name is Whitepaw," She mewed to me. "I'm another apprentice. I thought you would appreciate being shown around."

I blinked at her, pleased to find another quickly amiable cat in the clan. This one was an apprentice, which had its advantages and disadvantages – as an apprentice, she would both know what I needed to know and would also be young enough to interact with easily, but that also meant she probably didn't have a great deal of influence in the Clan. At any rate, any allies were useful, and I hoped I could find friends too. "That would be lovely, thank you."

Although, I thought ruefully, as Whitepaw chirped at me and led me away, she seems to think we're friends already.

I was introduced to the various parts of the camp, starting with Firestar's den and branching out to the warrior's den, the queens', the apprentices', and the elders'. Lastly I was given brief directions on where best to poop, and a recommendation to visit Cinderpelt quickly in her den, which was the last location I was led to. Whitepaw promised to meet me in the apprentices' den for some sleep once I was done, and then left, tail held high. I watched her go, a little baffled at her quick allegiance. I wondered if it was like that for all cats? They did have very short lives, made shorter by tragedy and life in the wild, so it would make sense that things happened quickly for them. That might be a problem; I wasn't sure I could do the same.

I shook my thoughts aside and went to see Cinderpelt, pleased and curious. I liked Cinderpelt, but wasn't sure why I should see their shaman-slash-witch doctor with such urgency.

Cinderpelt seemed to, however, because she tail-waved me in immediately. "Congratulations on your name, by the way," She told me as she led me to several piles of strong-smelling herbs. I recognised several of the common ones, but had certainly never smelled them so strongly before. "It's quite rare, to have a name related to StarClan. Anyway, to business – you seem quite young, but I should ask if you are expecting or have ever had kits."

My whiskers twitched, surprised. It made sense, I suppose, but... "No. Not to my knowledge."

"You come from outside the clans. Are you certain you have not been nearby a tom at the wrong time?"

I opened my mouth to ask what on earth she was talking about, then stopped. Cats went into heat. When cats were in heat, they would mate with any passing tomcat. I hadn't even considered how that would work if cats were sapient. Cold horror prickled at my fur, and my ears flattened back at the thought – would I go into oestrus, and be unable to stop what followed? I'd rather die. "It hasn't happened." I replied stiffly, a hundred escape plans forming in my mind. Screw my supposed story if something like this was going to happen!

Cinderpelt nodded, looking a little curious at my reaction. "That's good, then. You were lucky." She pushed a small mound of mixed plants at me. "Eat these, and then you will be able to choose when you have your kits. It's one of the greatest benefits for she-cats living in clans."

So soon after my panic, the relief was horribly dizzying. I laid down low to the ground and panted through my mouth for several moments, it was so strong.

"Are you alright?" Came the concerned inquiry. Cinderpelt nudged me insistently, her blue eyes worried.

"...yes," I answered finally. "I'm sorry. I was very afraid of..."

The medicine cat nodded in understanding. "I'm not surprised. I can't imagine how it must be for the cats who don't have these herbs. Be sure to eat all of them, and come back regularly. You can ask Whitepaw to remind you, and I'll remind you if she doesn't. Do hurry up, I expect you'll have little enough sleep as it is."

I obediently ducked my head and swallowed all of the herbs, even though the taste was unpleasantly bitter to my altered tongue. I did not spare a single leaf; the consequences for mistakes were too severe. "Thank you," I said to Cinderpelt, with real feeling, and left for the apprentices' den.

Whitepaw, as promised, was waiting for me, breaking off from a yawn as I entered. Aside from her, there were two other apprentices curled up in sleep, one brown-furred and the other black. Both were toms. "You had your herbs?" She whispered to me, mindful of the others. I nodded to her, looking around. Moss seemed to be their defence against the cold ground, thought only scraps were unclaimed. Whitepaw generously spared some from her own nest, helping me gather what remained, quite close to her spot, and then quickly laid herself in her pre-warmed moss.

As I claimed my own relatively sparse bed, I shuffled into the best semblance of comfort I could manage and noted, carefully, that I had been placed close enough to Whitepaw that our fur was touching. Not exceptionally close, but certainly a friendly proximity. Cats really did make friends quickly. Or maybe it was just Whitepaw; I'd have to continue observing.

I had expected to find it difficult to sleep, what with the turmoil of my thoughts and feelings being so intense. I was so perplexed about what had happened to my life that I honestly wasn't certain what my opinion of it was. But my cat biology seemed uniquely suited to slipping quickly into sleep, and so my consciousness faded.

Oo0oO

end chapter

I am absolutely certain that the name Moonpaw has been used before. I am equally certain that I haven't read any Warriors stories since I was twelve, so I've not read any of them. I am furthermore certain that this is the right name for my character, given the written circumstances. I could have gone with Leopard, but that's taken by the leader of RiverClan.

The herbs thing was my answer to something that puzzled me immensely when I re-read the series. Of course I didn't think of it as a child, but really, the books make it very clear that a she-cat doesn't have to have kits if she doesn't want to and can indeed choose the right time, within reason. However, female cats go into heat. If cats were sapient, any mating between a she-cat and a tom during her heat would be dubcon at absolute best, and every she-cat of age would be a walking kitten factory. I could just handwave it and explain it as something that had to be omitted from children's books, but that didn't seem right. So, anti-heat herbs. They aren't contraception, but they give a she-cat the privilege of choice.

This chapter has not been checked for errors. It's two in the morning and I'm tired.

Thanks for reading.