Chapter 63: The Name of a Father

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In a dark cave, hidden amongst the very bowels of a great mountain, far down in deep, suffocating shadows where no human dared venture, lay a little nest of moss, bracken, bird feathers, and a few more bits and pieces of little things to add to the comfort and warmth of a nursing female werecat. A lithe, lovely blue-gray creature she was, with her chest fur and two front paws as white as snow. Her low purr echoed dimly throughout the little dark cave, which happened to be, at the moment, deserted. In the distance, echoing from a narrow tunnel entrance at the far side of the stone room, water trickled. Other than that, there was serene silence.

Two tiny bundles of fur slept at their mother's belly, all tucked in nice and cozy; one a pure black she-kit, save for silver markings around her eyes; the other a dark brown tabby tom, with black stripes running down his back and over his fluffy face.

The tom in question was stirring. He blinked sleepily, and sat up in the nest. With one little fat, clumsy paw, he nudged at his mother's soft white belly. "Mama?"

Silver Mist sighed and opened her eyes. So much for sleep. Ah, but what a sweet, innocent little face to awaken to. Her son would grow up to be a handsome one, she knew. How could any creature be cross with such a tiny little kitten? With but a whisper she responded, "Mm?"

"Tell me about my father."

Silver Mist blinked, then raised her head slowly, so as not to rouse her daughter. The tiny black kitten shifted and mewed in her sleep, but otherwise was not disturbed by the movement.

"Have Soft Cloud and the other kits been bothering you about that again, Eagle Feather? You shouldn't listen to them."

The tabby tom twitched his stubby little tails. "I don't. I just—" He stammered, "I just want to know about my father."

Silver Mist glanced at the black kitten, who was still fast asleep. "All right. But just as long as we don't wake Tiny Paw."

Eagle Feather's eyes brightened eagerly, and he sat up. "Was he a brave warrior? Did he fight eagles and bears? Did he fight humans? Was he leader of the tribe? Did he save any cat's life—?"

"Hush!" Silver Mist reprimanded gently. "Let me tell you. Yes, your father was very brave. He was fit to be one of the greatest warriors in all the world. He had such courage."

"In the world?" her son repeated breathlessly.
"In the world," she confirmed. "He was not like other... toms." She chose her words carefully, though Eagle Feather didn't notice. "But I believe that's what made him special. He was different from everyone else. I thought he was a very clever and smart creature." She gazed at her son. "Someday, when you're older, I will tell you and your sister how we met. But for now, all I'll say is that we loved each other very, very much."

"Did he ever fight eagles and bears and wolves?" the kitten asked.

"My son, there is more to a great warrior than defeating other creatures," she said. "I didn't fall in love with your father because of the amount of bears he slew, or the amount of enemy wolf warriors he met in battle. I fell in love with him for the person he was. For what was inside in his heart." At this she pawed gently at Eagle Feather's little chest of brown fur. He purred.

"You look just like him, you know," she murmured. Her eyes softened at the memory of her lost mate. "That handsome dark fur. Those beautiful green eyes. That unfaltering courage. You both do." She nodded toward Tiny Paw's sleeping form. "You both look so much like him."

"What was his name?" Eagle Feather asked. "Surely he had a great warrior's name?"

Silver Mist sucked in her breath, and she shifted uneasily—though not enough to wake her daughter. "Perhaps I should tell you when you're older."

"Plleeeeaaaassseeeee?" Eagle Feather opened his green eyes wide and stared at his mother piteously. "He's my father. I want to know."

For a little while Silver Mist didn't respond. She turned away from the face of her kit and gazed off into space, lost in thought. She seemed to be thinking quite seriously over this decision. Finally, with a small sigh, she turned back to Eagle Feather's questioning face.

"All right," she whispered. "But I must tell you, your father was not like the warriors of the Tribe of the Moon you know. He lived a different life from ours, and his name will sound strange to you, for it is not of our tongue."

"I don't care," the kit mewed earnestly. "He's my father."

Silver Mist blinked gently down at him. Oh, how could she refuse him? It was such a simple, pleading request. It was only natural for the kitten to want to know his father. It made Silver Mist's heart hurt to know that the tom she loved so dearly would most likely never be able to see their offspring grow up into fine warriors. If only he could see them... just once... Ah, but of course, his name. She must tell her son his name.

"All right. But," she murmured. "Don't go repeating this to any cat. Promise?"

Eagle Feather was much too young to wonder at his mother's want for secrecy. He only felt a burst of excitement and nodded his head eagerly. "Yes, yes!"

Silver Mist drew her muzzle close to the ears of her little son, and, in a single breath as warm as sunlight and as soft as a feather, she whispered two words into them.

Thus Eagle Talon learned the name of the tom who fathered him.

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