the [ hawthorne ] passage.

[bambi.]

• i am called hawthorne, though the spelling has never mattered to me.
  
  
• i am undeniably a tom, virile and strong though i have dwelt among the hind-leggers.
  
  
• with dignity i prowl as a cat.
  
  
• i have walked the earth four summers.
  
  
• i best resemble no creature, though many expect a former tame to be pure of breed.
  
  
• look well upon my lovely shape. [x]
  i appear at first as simply a lithe creature, tabby-patched white and wholly unremarkable to the unappreciative eye. a splash of brown tabby marks my muzzle, accompanying other spots of the same colour upon my chin, and under my throat. a great patch fully covers my back, and much of my flank, leaving my legs white save a patch here or there on the back of one leg, and another.
  my eyes gleam with the shape and colour of the sun, and more often than not are utterly at peace, half-closed in the light as i rest or lope to a new place.
  but beneath the pale brown and black stripes lies a layer of dark purple down. like the great grizzly i shine brown and violet in the moonlight as i tread, beautiful, with grace.
  
  
• i dwell now alone, with neither colony, nor cult, nor hind-legged apes to contain or befriend me.
  
  
• see the heart behind the sunny eyes.
  admittedly i am vain beyond the limits of normalcy; though i admire silver pools and crystalline lakes for their immeasurable beauty, it is far from unlikely that i will be seen staring not at the grand panorama, but at my own reflection, admiring how the sun and shadows increase its beauty, and remarking upon how i can see little fish through it in the water. if i am not doing this, i may be washing myself, far more often than is needed, or else really appreciating the world for its own beauty, perhaps offering gifts to the spirits in the pools or the forests.
  
  i endeavour to trouble no one on my endless journey, though i tread freely upon colony land, even upon that of some of the territory-holding males. call me a coward if you wish for my serene disposition; i prefer not to fight if it can be avoided, though living so long alone among hind-leggers has nearly bred out my ability, or willingness, to trust simply any cat who crosses my path. instead i speak to nearly all creatures i meet with peace and courtesy in my voice and a conciliatory smile to light my eyes, but with an edge of scepticism touching my heart which can never be fully driven away. even any friends i make, outside my family, i cannot entirely trust. this feeling grows stronger when i find myself dealing with the cult; their ways and their beliefs make me quite nervous. indeed i find what they do disturbing, even if it is done with goodwill; and avoid the cult's lands as often as possible for fear of being attacked or killed on account of my being a heretic in their eyes.
  
  notes on me from the black book:
  
  "...[so] serene and peaceful as to be slightly eccentric, encroaching upon colony land without a care for his safety, though avoiding the cult's because he is a heretic without colony (which means protection) and cannot trust them not to kill him for his differing faith, for they already do so to the colonies. Frankly, it disturbs him that they would do such things to the faithless even out of goodwill. His rites are much more peaceful, and because he is one cat, he troubles no one.
  
  "He treats with almost naïve friendliness almost all outside the cult that he meets, but has not learnt to trust other cats, for he has lived too long among humans by himself for that; all cats he therefore treats with courteous scepticism, and befriends only a few if at all. He is also somewhat arrogant; as is obvious from how his profile is written. Vanity is a better word; he does not flaunt all things about himself. He cleans his fur far too often; he is a little obsessed with his appearance."
  
  
• and hear the tale of his wandering.
  i have always been a stray, in truth; i am told that my mother, a loner living in the streets of the town not far from where the colonies make their homes now, was found with me and my sisters in a garage, nursing. the hind-leggers allowed us to stay there for many moon-turns, even bringing my mother food and comfort, though at first keeping well away from us for fear of her vicious claws--so i imagine. the smaller ones, however, eventually could not help but to take us away from her and into their arms, and coo at us softly as we cried in our tiny voices to return to her side.
  
  time passed, and soon we could do well enough on our own that we no longer needed her nourishing milk. we grew accustomed instead to solid food: meat and soft gruelly mush that more often than not tasted quite delicious, contrary to how some would paint it. the feeling of great bare paws on our backs no longer disturbed me, though my sister Mallorn remained shy of hind-leggers till the last time i saw her, and Willow would rather play with the curiously long fur that fell from their heads. it is really no surprise that Willow was the first to be taken away to live with other hind-leggers. i don't know what happened to Mallorn or my mother, for i was taken second of my siblings, to live with a kind family with two parents and an older hindkitten.
  
  i was quite content to live three summers in and out of their home, for they gave me all the freedom and accomodation i desired. the hindkitten was always gentle with me, though early on i could hardly move for being picked up; and so i favoured the mother. all of them doted upon me lavishly, sometimes even giving me scraps of meat from their evening meals, and giving me fond pats on the head when i came to them, which reminded me inexplicably of being licked clean as a very young kitten, and brought me great felicity.
  
  but all of their kindness could not weaken the call of nature. every time i went outside, which was often, it beckoned to me with the promise of mystery and beauty the likes of which i had never seen and never would, should i remain a husbytla, housedweller. every day the call sounded louder in my heart, until one fine day last spring, on a whim, i ventured to stay away from home for a while longer than was usual. a while soon became a month, and then a year. i now cannot imagine myself returning home; by now a new cat likely lives there, and they believe me dead.
  
  
• of friends, relations, and enemies, i have an older brother, called Ebony, and two sisters (Mallorn and Willow) whose fates i do not know. my mother is, or was, a dark green tabby and white, called Spruce.
  
  
• the things which do not fit above.
  
  • i can, and often do, speak the ancient feline tongue.
    
  • i also call females of the species mollies; the name she-cat is foreign and unrefined in my ear. this is but a peculiarity of the dialect i speak, which also uses several other words uncommon in the world i tread now.
    
  • i have personal beliefs related to the moon, sun, and nature, but they are self-contained and have little or nothing to do with the cult. for this i am as much of a heretic as any colony cat.
    
  • [ pale folklore ]
    
  • creator's note: it should be added that hawthorne is not as exceptionally beautiful as he claims, merely exceptionally well-groomed, which he and others oft mistake for great beauty.
    
  
  
  
• the rune that shall give me life. & +
  
  

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[}xx.£eaƒm∞n , ,]

So intricate
Accepted!