as the familiar smell of the human neighborhood— or “twolegplace,” as the clan cats liked to call it—faded away, an overwhelming cat scent replaced it, and the forest seemed to grow denser with every step she took. it was very interesting. that cats would willingly live and cooperate with each other was such a strange concept to the black and white she-cat. as the scent of skyclan intensified, she was reminded of the constant squabbles amongst the other neighborhood cats over food, territory, mates and whatever else troubled their simple minds. she was very curious indeed to meet cats who could get along with one another.
she’d done her research, of course. clan cats were reportedly very finicky about their borders, and if she wanted to be accepted she’d have to at least pretend to care about the scent line. and she would have to think of a name. she never had one of those before. she supposed she could just make up a clan-style name right off the bat and make it easier for herself. skyclan was famous for its trees, so she’d heard. she’d go with some sort of tree name, then. the she-cat sat near a cypress, long black tail wrapped around white paws as she waited for someone to inevitably intercept her.