Could be... Who knows?

[Heathclaw]

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed down from the sky upon the unprotected Windclan camp. The sound of fierce yowls split the air; there was a battle afoot. Heathkit crouched in a corner of the nursery, trembling with fear as he heard voices shouting in the distance.

"Leave this place now, you rogues!"
"There's too many!"
"Keep them away from the nursery!"

Heathkit shivered. That last call had been his father's. The storm outside seemed to have quieted for the moment... and then there came a peal of thunder so loud that it made Heathkit's ears vibrate... and masked the sound of a death cry. A lightning flash later, two rogue cats had burst into the nursery. Heathkit yowled in terror and flinched back, tangling his pelt in the prickly gorse. He was stuck!

And then, even as he fought to free himself, a second death cry filled the air...

Heathkit's eyes flew open. The sounds of battle had gone; the nursery was peaceful and safe. That nightmare again... Heathkit thought, getting up out of his nest. His mother, Breezeflower, was still asleep.

He started washing his pelt, frustrated. It'd been two moons since that attack; why couldn't he just let it go without having to relive it at night? He looked up from washing an ear and glanced around the nursery at the other sleeping cats. With Creamkit gone and Pigeonpaw an apprentice, the nursery seemed lonelier than usual. Why do I care so much about them? It's not like they're my littermates! Heathkit thought, shaking himself. But they are my clan mates. That means they're as close as kin.

He walked towards the nursery entrance, shaking his troubled thoughts away like moss from his fur. The trouble was, he was bored being all cooped up in the nursery. He was the oldest kit in the clan now, old enough to be apprenticed, and it just didn't feel right to have to sit on his paws and wait while the rest of his clanmates were working so hard.

He took a few steps outside of the nursery and looked anxiously up towards the Highrock. The question flared in his mind again, just as it had for all these past days. Will today be the day?

[stolenhart]

If anyone knew what loneliness was, it was Dawnthorn. He had experienced it at it's worse and it had shaped him into the cat he was. Those moons spent by himself after he had been disowned by his two-legs had been the most loneliest of his life. That cat, his name had been Tootles, was gone, replaced by the warrior Dawnthorn. He would forever be thankful to Blackheart for renaming him. Tootles? What kind of name was that?

He paused in the middle of nowhere, though near enough that those in the nursery could see him, and turned a complete circle before sitting down and licking a paw. He muttered to himself around his tongue as he groomed that one particular paw for a moment then he stood up, swished his short tail and continued on. It was hard to believe that Dawnthorn was sane, every action he did made no sense. Why turn in a circle merely to groom a paw? Why talk nonsense only to have your actions proclaim you intelligent? The orange-point tabby was a source of constant amusement to those who knew him, but it was a fair trade because they were as much a source of amusement to him. Fair trade and all that nonsense.

He muttered something under his breathe about the moon and grass being blue as he sat down beside Heathkit. He gave the younger cat a cross-eyed glance then followed his eyes up to the Highrock. "If you watch it long enough it might move", he intoned wisely in a deep voice. Then he stood up, turned in a complete circle and began to groom his tail. Acting for all the world as if he hadn't spoken, to add to that impression he even said, "What did you say? Speak up I'm hard of hearing". Of course he wasn't but tattered ears leant credence to that statement. Nothing was wrong with Dawnthorn, he was just odd.

[Heathclaw]

(Sorry for the wait. Fun character, by the way. ^^)

Heathkit suddenly looked away from the Highrock, his attention captured by a curious sight. There was a large, muscular tom in the middle of the camp, nearly all orange-white, who had stopped, walked around in a circle, and began washing a paw. He seemed familiar; Heathkit was sure that his father had pointed this cat out before, but he couldn't put a name to the face. I've never seen him come into the nursery, anyway, Heathkit shrugged, turning back to the Highrock.

"If you watch it long enough, it might move," said a deep voice from right behind him. Heathkit jumped about a foxlength into the air and whirled around; it was that cat again, washing his tail without a care in the world. Heathkit gave the older cat an inquisitive glance, taking in his tattered ears and his split nose. He must be a senior warrior or an elder to have such scars, thought Heathkit.

"What did you say? Speak up, I'm hard of hearing," said the older cat. Heathkit eyes stretched in surprise. Was this cat capable of reading minds? He shook himself. No... this older cat was just acting batty for some reason.

"You say some strange things, you know that?" asked Heathkit, in as polite a voice as he could muster. "Anyway, I wasn't watching the Highrock to see if it would move. Actually, I was hoping someone would move onto it." He waved his tail, trying to be friendly. "I'm old enough to be an apprentice, you know? Any day now I'll be Heathpaw instead of Heathkit. And then, someday, I'm going to be the greatest warrior that the clans have ever seen!"

[stolenhart]

"You say some strange things, you know that?"

Dawnthorn gave the kit a look over his stubby tail, blue eyes studying him for a minute. Those sky blue eyes held a world of intelligence and cunning but most cats never looked past the scars to see. Then the eyes became their normal, goofy, blue and Dawnthorn replied, "Well you look strange".

Sometimes it was so hard to keep his humor under control but he could do it. Of course if the kit persisited in being silly, Dawnthorn might have run and hide so he could laugh to his heart's content. Dawnthorn's life was all about humor, well the clan then his humor. Some felines just didn't understand that life was made to be laughed at, otherwise you did go mad.

"I'm old enough to be an apprentice, you know? Any day now I'll be Heathpaw instead of Heathkit. And then, someday, I'm going to be the greatest warrior that the clans have ever seen!"

"An apprentice? Was that a subtle hint?", Dawnthorn was a large tom, a throwback to some prehistoric ancestor, but in truth he'd also gotten a better start in life than most clan cats. As a kit he'd never had to hunt for his food and in fact, he'd run a bit towards fat as a kitten. He'd yet to take an apprentice, was unsure of when he would be given one, sometimes the other cats weren't comfortable around. He stood up, turned in another circle and wrapped his stubby tail around himself.

"The greatest warrior hmmm? Why you want to be that? Wouldn't you rather be the best warrior you can be? Being the greatest is easy to do, until someone else comes along who is better than, being your best", the older tom shrugged, "that's harder to do".

[Heathclaw]

"An apprentice? Was that a subtle hint?"

"That depends," Heathkit replied. "What's subtle mean?

As he spoke, he turned around in a circle of his own, checking his tail and paws for stray bits of moss. What had that older cat meant, saying that he looked strange? Heathkit simply couldn't find anything strange about himself, twitching his tail and each paw to check they were all in order, and then running a paw through his headfur just to make sure there wasn't anything "strange" up there either.

It was just after Heathkit decided that this older cat was definitely as crazy as an elder when the pale-orange tom asked a question that made Heathkit really think a bit.

"The greatest warrior, hmmm? Why do you want to be that? Wouldn't you rather be the best warrior you can be? Being the greatest is easy to do, until someone else comes along who is better than you, being your best; that's harder to do."

"Wait a second... what's the difference?" asked Heathkit, after a moment of pondering. "If I'm the greatest warrior in the forest, then of course I'd be the best warrior I can be, right? I mean, I'd have to be better than my father, Rustlepelt, and even better than Rainstar one day, and I can't accomplish that by just sitting around."

At this Heathkit bounced up again and started pacing, throwing occasional glances back up at the Highrock. "That's why I need to start training, as soon as I can."

He turned back to the larger cat, observing him with new eyes now. He couldn't be an elder, he looked too strong to be that old. "What's your name, by the way? Sorry, it's just- I've never seen you in the nursery, ever."

[stolenhart]

"What's subtle mean?"

"What's subtle mean?", Dawnthorn echoed the kit, biting his lip to keep from smiling as his eyes grew big and round. "What are they teaching you nowadays", he shook his head and muttered under his breathe about ladybugs and horseturds not even bothering to answer the question. He watched the kit check himself for anything strange and only shook his head in feigned disappointment while he got himself back under control.

"Wait a second... what's the difference? If I'm the greatest warrior in the forest, then of course I'd be the best warrior I can be, right? I mean, I'd have to be better than my father, Rustlepelt, and even better than Rainstar one day, and I can't accomplish that by just sitting around."

Dawnthorn snorted in laughter at the kit's reply to the question. "Wrong", he poked his paw at the kit's chest gently. "I've yet to see a council sit down and say such and such is the Greatest Warrior ever and agree. You will never be the greatest warrior because the title doesn't exist", he laughed, falling onto his side with a chuckle. His tail thumped the ground slowly as he thought.

"Being the best warrior you can be is about being true to yourself, to your clan, being the best in your strongest areas and working on your weaknesses. Being a great warrior is not very satisfying, soulwise, but being your best cat, that is very satisfying", he said sagely. Then threw a clump of dirt at the kit. "Besides what everyone thinks of you will not save you from death, it might even bring death to you faster".

[Heathclaw]

Heathkit listened with growing confusion, mingled with frustration, as this cat continued to laugh at him. He suspected that this tom was teasing him for some reason, but he couldn't pin the feeling down.

"You will never be the greatest warrior because the title doesn't exist," said the big cat, falling to his side in mirth. Heathkit's little bit of neck fur bristled. Now this cat was just being mouse-brained. Heathkit wasn't looking for a title. He only wanted to be a stronger, faster, better warrior than any other cat in the forest.

The older cat continued speaking, now slightly more pensive. Heathkit knew that it was good manners to pay attention, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering; his father had already told him all of this before. Because of this, he wasn't looking when the tom flicked a dirt clod at him, which burst over his forehead.

"What was that for?!" Heathkit mewled, pawing dirt off of his forehead. But the older cat was still speaking. "Besides what everyone thinks of you will not save you from death, it might even bring death to you faster."

Heathkit shivered, his green eyes clouding with preoccupation as his mind flashed back to his dream. He didn't like thinking or talking about death, especially when it had come so close in the past.

"Can't you speak straight?" asked Heathkit, uncharacteristically riled up. "What exactly is it that you want from me? And what's your name, anyway? You still haven't told me yet."

[stolenhart]

"What was that for?!"

The older tom laughed, "That was for letting your wits wonder. If you let your wits go begging at least have the decency to look like you are paying attention", Dawnthorn said, climbing back to his feet. He stuck a bag leg straight out and began to examine it, even his back claws were wickedly sharp from climbing trees and fighting. Whatever his mental status there was no doubting the tom was a fierce warrior. In fact, he might even hold Heathkit's coveted 'Greatest Warrior' if he wanted too.

"Can't you speak straight? What exactly is it that you want from me? And what's your name, anyway? You still haven't told me yet

Speak straight? Dawn's ears perked forward as he turned to look at the kit with sparkling blue eyes of feigned stupidity. "Can you even speak straight? What is speaking straight? Do you mean make sense or nonsense? Though can one even make nonsense?", he asked, beginning to groom his foot carefully. He had always had a loud and rough purr, and now grooming himself he sounded like the a thunderstorm. "A name? A moniker? An alias? A psuedonym? Is that what you require of me?", he asked and quite grooming himself to wait patiently for an answer.

"What would you have me call you? I forget if you gave me a name or not. Would prefer your great warriorness or just warrior? Or maybe I can call you Clodhead", he said, reaching out with a paw to wipe some dirt off Heathkit's head, "You still have some dirt, just there", he withdrew his paw to lick it before retrying to wipe the dirt away, now with a moistened paw.

[Heathclaw]

Heathkit had allowed the older warrior to brush the dirt out of his fur the first time; he hadn't seen it coming. But when the cat moved in his paw the second time, Heathkit darted away, hopping backwards towards the nursery entrance.

"I can do that myself!" Heathkit snapped, twitching his head violently. Most of the dirt fell off, although a bit remained. Heathkit reached up with a paw to bat at it awkwardly, his eyes darkening with irritation. Who did this cat think he was, moving in like that? He wasn't his father, he wasn't even a friend, just a stranger who wouldn't even give a name. This cat had no right to touch him.

A moment later, he realized what he'd just done. He'd just mouthed off to a senior warrior! Not only was what he'd done seriously rude, but it might even lead to his apprentice ceremony being delayed! Rustlepelt would be so disappointed...

"I'm sorry!" Heathkit burst out suddenly. "I don't know what came over me... I lost my temper. And... I'm Heathkit. It's nice to meet you." He struggled with the words, trying to convey the right message, even though he had a sneaking suspicion that this cat was just going to laugh at him about it anyway. There was nothing for it, Heathkit was just going to have to grit his teeth and bear it.

[stolenhart]

Dawnthorn had never been the type to take offense at being snapped at, he was a very outgoing tom and rarely got angry at anyone or anything. There was just no sense in going through the effort, being crazy kept the other cats at a safe distance.

"I'm sorry!" Heathkit burst out suddenly. "I don't know what came over me... I lost my temper. And... I'm Heathkit. It's nice to meet you."

"Nothing came over you dear boy, nothing at all", Dawnthorn replied, a confused look crossing his face. They were sitting in a patch of sunshine after all. "As for losing your temper, you are young yet, you may find it one day", he gave the air a diffident wave with his paw, as if saying losing one's temper was nothing of consequence and should not be worrisome.

"Heathkit", he asked, stretching out, yawning as he showed formidable teeth. "You may call me Dawnthorn, it is a servicable enough name until I find something better. I think though I shall call you", he looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded as if an answer came to him, "Tootles. Yes, until you deserve a better name I shall name you Tootles", he finished.

It was an alright name, it had been his name before he came to the clans and it would do. He would never understand the nature of naming a kit kit, everyone with a sane mind could see Heathkit was a kit, no need to name him that every time he moved. Sometimes he thought these clan cats were as crazy as he pretended to be.

"Say, you look like you are suffering some sort of indegestion. Internal parasites perhaps?", he asked, noticing Heathkit's grin and bear it attitude.

[Heathclaw]

(Sorry this took so long. I had a hectic few weeks. ^^

As expected, the tom didn't take what he said very seriously. In fact, Heathkit suspected that this tom didn't take anything very seriously. But Heathkit promised himself that whatever this tom said or did next, he would not get angry again.

But it was a close thing. The tom finally gave Heathkit the benefit of a name, Dawnthorn, but had also 'decided' to rename Heathkit something that made his ears flicker backwards briefly in disbelief.

Tootles? What kind of a name was that?! A stupid name, for sure. And definitely not a clan name. What did this cat think he was doing, giving him a name that sounded like it belonged on a kittypet collar?

It didn't make sense. Dawnthorn was definitely strange, but Heathkit didn't believe that the warrior would deliberately insult him. That could only mean that he didn't know how important a clan name was, and that could only mean...

"You're clan deputy, aren't you?" asked Heathkit, remembering his father telling him about their deputy who wasn't clanborn. So he had been mouthing off to a very important cat. It was a good thing that Dawnthorn hadn't taken him seriously. But Heathkit still wasn't going to stand for being called Tootles.

"My proper clan name is Heathkit," he replied. "Not Tootles. But you can call me that if you wish," he continued, struck by a sudden. "But then I think I shall have to call you Oddball in return. It's not fair for me to get a new name and for you to get left out, is it?"