I have never had a mate, nor have I felt the need to have one. Cats rarely stray into my part of the forest, even less of them she-cats, and those that do never come back. For me, finding a mate was unnecessary, not to mention nearly impossible, after all, the way I think about the world is about one in a million.

I wasn't always alone, I was once part of a family. I had two siblings, a mother, a father, just as many cats do. My life started out normal, but I wasn't. My family was, but I wasn't. There was nothing I could do to change that, even if I had tried.

My father was a handsome silver tabby with a pair of piercing amber eyes that came close to the color of honey bathing in the orange light of a sunset upon the sea. One of my earliest memories was of him standing at the peak of a small hill we had come across, his fur shining in the moonlight, yet his eyes like a sun in the dark of the night. He was a fine father, a good influence. He was intelligent and strong, gruff at times, but also loving. He taught my siblings and I how to fight anything that could threaten us. He taught us how to hunt mice, birds, fish, rabbits, frogs, even lizards. He cared for us all, my brother, my sister, and I, equally, which was how he differed from my mother. When he began to take notice that I was not quite the same as my brother and sister, he tried to interest me in any kind of normal kit activity. He told me stories, played moss ball with me, and even took me on private hunting trips, but to no avail. We just didn't see eye to eye.

Once, I had tried to show him what I thought of the world. I took him to the pond where we often fished for carp and trout. Being careful not to disturb the fish, I carefully dived down under the water. The pond was clean mountain water, cold but refreshing. I showed him how the fish traveled in groups. I showed him the many different colors that could be found under the water, the secret world that existed where few cats could ever discover it. To me, the beauty of that hidden world took my breath away, yet to my father, there was no beauty. He told me that fish merely existed in the world to be eaten, nothing more. No matter how hard I tried, there was nothing I could do to make him understand. That was the end of the father and son hunting trips. I believe he knew that nothing he could do would change me, but he accepted that. He still cared for me despite my oddities. Every once in a while, when he was playing a game with my brother and sister, he would kindly invite me over as well. Sometimes I would agree just to make him happy, but other times, the odd stares my siblings gave me frightened me away. My father was the only factor that kept me tethered to the bunch of cats that I was living with.

My mother was a different case. She was a pretty cat, with short golden-brown fur the color of wheat, and eyes that were a gentle pine green. She had dainty, graceful paws and a well formed head. Slightly vain, but a decent mother despite it, she was slim and quiet. She could travel through the forest making less noise than a mouse, and still bring back enough prey to feed us. She was also an expert tree climber and could swim like a fish almost as easily as she could walk. My siblings and I were her first litter, and she brought us up well enough. My siblings were her pride and joy. She doted upon them as often as she possibly could, leaving me left out, but I stopped minding long ago. I believe it was mainly because of pelt color.

My sister's pelt was a fiery amber, very close to the color of my father's eyes. When she stood in the sun, her pelt glowed like the brightest flame. If she had been set on fire, I don't think anyone would be able to tell just by looking at her. To contrast this, her eyes were a deep set blue, the color of a jay's feather. It was quite a lovely combination, my mother liked it, and so my sister's ego grew.

My brother was a silver tabby just like my father, though his fur was much shorter, the length of my mother's. He was well muscled with long claws and sharp fangs. His eyes were green, though not the same shade as my mother's. If my brother had stood, unblinking, in a patch of sunlit ferns with just his eyes unconcealed, he could have hidden for moons. Unlike my sister, who purred when my mother complimented her, my brother would growl that he was too old to be praised like that, and would stomp away. Despite the act, I could tell that my brother secretly took pride in my mother's flattery, so of course, his ego grew as well.

When we were born, my mother took an immediate liking to my two gorgeous siblings. They were, after all, perfectly formed just like she was, so how could they possibly be wrong. I on the other hand, had to prove myself. My pelt was a stormcloud ready to burst, with long, gray fur that was so hard to manage, it took half the day to groom completely. My eyes were a dull gray, like the reflection of an overcast sky on a not-so-still pond. They seemed to twist and flash like thunder and lightning in the sky. I wasn't well muscled like my brother, nor was I thin and tiny like my sister, so appearance could not please my mother. The only I could make her proud of me was to be intelligent or brave, which I wasn't, or at least not in the she wanted me to be.

Despite my best efforts, there was no way I ever had a chance to be what she wanted me to be. She told me to hunt, to survive. To someday find a mate, have kits, and raise them just as she was raising me, and eventually die just as so many animals have done before me.

She didn't understand me.

That was not me.

That could never be me.

I was the simple gray cat that was fascinated by the world around him. I was the simple gray cat that wanted to learn. I was the simple gray cat that didn't mind being hungry if that was what it took to learn more about the world.

Eventually, my mother became fed up with what she called my "idiocy" . I knew that she didn't like me, she didn't want me living with her other two perfect kits. However, she still lacked a solid reason to kick me out, and that was what kept me with her for another three moons.

Her chance came when I was about twelve moons old. It was early new-leaf at the time, and our home was plagued by a sudden blizzard. The snow was heavy; when the blizzard was over, the snow went all the way up past my head. I was fascinated by it. In my free time I dug tunnels under the large snow drifts. I climbed the snow-covered trees and shook the snow down. Once, I spent until sunhigh gazing in wonder at a frosty pine tree. I was shocked by the ever-so-small amount of snow that was clinging to the green needles.

That day I was continuing my near perfect snow tunnel. I was packing in the walls and placing pine needles on the inside, wondering why it was warmer in the tunnel that it was outside it. My father poked his head in. He told me that I needed to help hunt right now, or else there may be near-nothing to eat that night. There was some kind of warning in his mew, though I couldn't tell whether it was fueled by anger or worry. I thought nothing of it at the time, and followed my father into the frosty forest.

The snow had caused most of the prey to hide in their little holes for warmth. Finding something to eat here was hard, but not impossible. I climbed onto one of the trees that I had shaken the snow off of. From here, I could get a good view of the surrounding area. It was a long time before I saw anything, but when I did, it was worth the wait. There was a humongous snow hare sitting out in the open, only distinguishable because of it's black, beady eyes. Knowing I had to be quick, I carefully climbed down the tree. Once I was about two tail-lengths from the ground, I leaped into some of the powdery snow. Luckily, the snow hare did not notice, in fact, it was looking in the opposite direction. I stalked the rabbit as quietly as I could. I was almost within pouncing distance when the wind changed. The rabbit's ears flared up in response to the strong cat scent. Bounding forward, the rabbit dashed off, and I gave chase.

The rabbit was slow in the snow, I couldn't believe the luck I had. I pinned it near a leafless oak tree, pleased with what I had done. I wasn't the greatest hunter, but I wasn't bad either. However, before I could deliver the killing bite, something made me look up. I never did find out what it was, perhaps there was some kind of bird in the tree had screeched, diverting my attention, or perhaps some of the snow had fallen onto my back and I just didn't notice. Whatever it was, it was my undoing. There was a spider web between two of the branches in the tree. The blizzard had coated it in frost, it looked like a gigantic snowflake. In the moment that I was gazing at the spider web, the rabbit escaped. It wriggled out of my grasp and streaked off into the forest. I knew I couldn't catch it.

This was exactly what my mother needed, for she had seen the whole thing. She stomped over growling, and swiped her paw over my ear, claws unsheathed. It drew blood.

She took me back to our den, furious. Back at the little clearing, she ranted to my father and siblings about my incompetence. She explained exactly why I had missed the snow hare with startling accuracy. She demanded that I leave and never come back. My siblings did not hesitate to agree. My father took more time. Avoiding my gaze, he said that it would be for the best. It was then that I lost my family, the only cats I had ever known.

It wasn't such a bad thing however. Though I did lose a bit of myself that day, I gained a little bit back. I was free, free to do whatever I want in my life. From that day onward I could do as I wished.

It wasn't long before I found the forest. My forest. I knew right when I saw the first tree that this was the place. It was beautiful. The land sloped up and down, never to steeply but enough to make it different. There were gaps in the trees that allowed sunlight to reach the forest floor, which was covered with brambles and leaves. Sometimes after a heavy rainstorm, the water would travel along a rocky path in the forest, creating a kind of crevasse in the ground. There was also a large shady pond with golden rocks at the bottom that seemed to glimmer in the sunlight. The pond was quite deep, I remember diving down to the bottom and seeing all the fish swirl around me. It was a marvelous experience, though there was nobody to share it with.

It was lonely in that forest of course, few cats ever wandered into his territory, and not one of them were curious about the world just as I was.

Until she came of course.

When I was about 20 seasons old she came. A young cat who still looked as if she should still be with her mother. She couldn't have been more than six moons old. She reminded me of my sister when I first saw her. They had the same kind of amber-colored pelt, however she had a single black paw and eyes the color of grass. At first I stayed away. I had discovered through my experiences that cats who come into the forest are normally just passing through. This cat should be no different. However, as I continued to observe her, I saw something different. She was curious. She wanted to know as much as she possibly could. In her, I saw a thirst to learn, and I could help her with that.

When I first walked up to her, she barely glanced at me, though I noticed her ears flick at my arrival. At the time, she was dabbing at an arching fern with her paw. It had downpoured the night before, so each time she did, a drop of water flicked down onto a rock below. This continued for some time. She seemed to enjoy the sound the water droplet splashing onto the rock as much as I did. After a time she spoke. She asked if I found it pretty. I agreed, the drop of water caught the light from the sunrise each time, turning the liquid golden. Because of the quiet atmosphere, the sound of the water hitting the rock could be heard quite plainly. I saw the true beauty in it and I think she did too. I wasn't mistaken, my answer satisfied and surprised her. She said that she had never met anyone who agree with her as easily as that. I told her that it was the same for me.

After that we spent a lot more time together. She was eager to learn everything that I could teach. We went on little expeditions together. I brought her to the tops of trees to learn about birds, the different cries they make, the different types, and what they do. At one point we sat outside a groundhog's den for almost from sunrise to sunset just to see them up close. I even brought her to the golden pond so she could experience that underwater world that I was fascinated by. In return for teaching her, I learned more about where she came from. She told me that she came from a place called RiverClan. There were other clans called ThunderClan, WindClan, and ShadowClan. In the clans one's name shows their rank. The kittens get the -kit suffix, the apprentices get the -paw suffix, and the leaders get the -star suffix. She was a kit in her clan, her name was Blossomkit. She asked me to call her Blossom however, so I did. When she asked for my name I told her I didn't remember. Perhaps I had a name once, but it wasn't used often, so I didn't remember. She laughed and named me Stone.

As the seasons went on our lives continued. We learned more about the world as it is, about plants, mice, and even twolegs. She continued to teach me about the clans. I thought that the way the clans lived was a good idea. I loved the idea of a medicine cat, of a leader and a deputy. I especially loved the idea of StarClan. I didn't know if they actually existed of course, but it is still an interesting thought.

When I asked why she left her clan, Blossom became a different cat. She became tired and dismissive, contrary to her usual self. She said that there was no place for her in RiverClan. My answer pointed out that she had described the clans as if there was room for everybody. She disagreed; she continued to argue that there was no place for her there. Amused, I told her that she should consider going back to the clan one day. That shocked her. She told me that she was happy here with me. That I was an excellent mentor. Though flattered by her words I told her that I would not be here forever. Cats only live so long.

It was only three moons after this conversation that I quietly slipped away. I didn't want to go at that time, but there was nothing I could do. I found out that StarClan does exist, and I discovered the truth about Blossom. Her destiny was to become the next RiverClan medicine cat, but another cat, Thistlepaw, got it before her. Discouraged, she fled from RiverClan and happened upon me. However, after about a moon, Thistlepaw decided to become a warrior, leaving the post for medicine cat open. Now it is Blossom's turn to find her destiny as I watch her getting ready to leave my peaceful forest for RiverClan. I know she will become a wonderful medicine cat, and someday I will meet her again in StarClan

I know it's a little odd, but I enjoyed writing it. :)