Chapter Text
Gray Wing doesn’t remember how long he has been dead for, but he remembers a lot of other things.
He remembers seeing his kits for the first time right before he joined Starclan.
He remembers the clans taking to the names he gave them as he died.
He remembers watching Moth Flight discover Starclan.
He remembers the first leader ceremonies the clans ever had. He remembers Thunderstar introducing the concept of deputies.
He remembers the Warrior Code being made and he remembers Shadowstar being the first of the leaders to join him in Starclan.
But a sunrise came, when no cat he knew still dwelled in the living world, when every cat he knew was part of Starclan. And then he didn’t remember what happened in the living world no more.
Time started to blend in Starclan. He began feeling fainter and more star then cat and he no longer knows how much time passed in the living world, he no longer watched.
All he knew was Starclan.
But one day he knew something else.
He woke to blackness, the rich scent of milk in the air and the feel of warm bodies around him. He twitched his nose confused, not able to detect the scent of Starclan’s meadows. Instead it smelt almost like a nursery, but with a harsher unnatural scent clinging to the air, that reminded him of Twolegs.
Gray Wing tried to meow his concern, surprised to bring out a squeak instead. “Hush little one” a she cat meowed and Gray Wing felt his ears being groomed soothingly.
It started dawning on him then, was he alive again? And a kit on top of it?
Even before he managed to open his eyes and see, leaving behind the kit blindness, Gray Wing learned a multitude of things.
For one, he was definitely alive and he was definitely a kit. His mother was called Nutmeg, his father Jake, but he never met him. He has two sisters and two brothers. His sisters are Princess and Luna and his brothers Filou and Tommy. His own name was Rusty.
And he was without an error of doubt born to Kittypets and was supposed to be a Kittypet himself, which by Starclan he didn’t understand.
They slept on weird Twoleg pelts and were expected to behave when those weird creatures tried to touch them.
Gray Wing didn’t agree, despite the scolding he got from his mother, Gray Wing would hiss and fight the Twoleg every time it came near, even before he opened his eyes.
None of his new family understood, but born to a Kittypet or not, kit or not, he was still a Warrior and would always be a Warrior.
If Clear Sky were to see him now, Gray Wing is sure he would laugh.
Ever since Gray Wing managed to open his eyes and see, he was planning his escape from the Twoleg den.
It concerned Nutmeg, that he didn’t play much with his siblings, but would instead stalk the den for long periods of time, trying to memorise every little detail.
Gray Wing wasn’t mousebrained, he knew he couldn’t even begin to hope to escape before he was weaned, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t already plan it.
Despite the unfortunate circumstances, Gray Wing liked his family and his siblings, he even tried teaching his siblings a few battle moves, which Nutmeg pretty quickly disapproved off.
But mostly, Gray Wing was preparing. He stalked the weird fake prey the Twolegs gave them, practiced his hunting crouch and hunting techniques and build the stamina it would take to survive in the forest.
He had to get used to the limits of his kit body, but he wouldn’t let it stop him.
The sooner he made it to Windclan and joined them, the better. Living with a Twoleg just felt too unnatural.
At two moons old, he was finally old enough to eat prey and that was good enough for him.
He knew the wilds of the forests were not meant for kits, but he wasn’t an ordinary kit, he was a Warrior in a kit’s body, he would manage. Besides, Windclan would take him in.
So it was time to escape.
Gray Wing waited for the Twolegs to leave through their den entrance, then he crouched beneath the legs of a weird wooden constructed the Twolegs had near their entrance. They would put things on it or take things out of it, Gray Wing didn’t quite understand it, but it made a good hiding space.
He wrapped his little tail neatly around his tiny paws and waited patiently.
Princess once came to check on him: “what are you doing Rusty?” , “I’m starting my life as a Warrior today.” , “What’s a Warrior?”
Gray Wing looked at his sister before replying: “a free cat.”
Princess cocked her head at him, not understanding, so she left him alone, because he was always weird.
Gray Wing heard the usual click of the entrance, that usually meant the Twoleg was coming back. Gray Wing crouched, waggled his haunches in preparation of the most important leap of his life.
The den entrance opened to let the Twoleg in and Gray Wing leapt out of his hiding place with a hiss. The startled Twoleg didn’t think to block the entrance, as Gray Wing darts between it’s legs and charges towards the freedom of the wild forest outside.