Concepts I Can Explain ~A One-Shot~

There never was a question too deep for me. Whoever I came across somehow knew I had a special knowledge of the worlds most questioned questions. Being a rogue didn't mean I couldn't have an opinion of my own. Being a rogue didn't mean those religious clan cats could question my sanity. Being a rogue didn't mean i had to be selfish, but I was anyway. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, you ought to remember. It's your fault, after all.

---

I wasn't always a rogue. I've actually experienced all sorts of ranks, hierarchies and roles, but I'm best suited as a rogue. Kittypet, clan cat, loner, I've even been in a gang. An old sock like me still gets to think, right? That's what I thought. If you're willing to stick around for an old cat's painful life story, go ahead. If not, you best be on your way.

I was born in a clan. ShadowClan, to be exact. My mother was the best hunter in the clan, and my father was deputy, soon to be leader. I had never liked living the clan life. As soon as I was made an apprentice I ran away. I wanted nothing to do with StarClan, or any other clan at all, for that matter. I met a kittypet not too far from the clans, and her house-folk let me stay with them. Under their wardship I was happy- until a another tom-cat came to live with us. His pelt was shiny and pale ginger, with large ears long feathery whiskers and fluffy fur. I was thrown out, disregarded by my own housefolk. I was upset at first. I had grown accustomed to being fed for but I still knew how to hunt.

I was a loner after that, sometimes straying into clan territory. I once met a patrol consisting of my mother, and all I saw was rue and compunction in her eyes. She told me off, After that I had time to think alone. About life, religion, politics, death, social abilities. I have yet to express social enjoyment. i was very quiet as a kittypet, unless I was hungry, then I let the house-folk have it.

However, my questions wondered on, deeper and deeper as I got older. ''Where will I go when I die? What does death feel like? Does anything matter at all, in this consistent universe that science has brought forth to us? Does me even wondering if anything matter matter? ''

I had these thoughts often, though none suicidal. Just curious.

---  I met a rogue one day. He had the same sense as I, the same questions habits and just simply everything.

I realized we were falling in love, and I began to feel anxiety rise in the pit of my stomach, I had never had a relationship like this before, one so powerful and loving. That night I realized it, I ran away from the den we were sharing. It was raining hard and I took refuge in an abandoned fox hole feeling alone and scared. The next morning the forest was a wooded debris,

---

I stayed in that fox hole for a long time. Up until now, in fact. And now, here I am, talking to you. Or perhaps, ''myself? '' Doesn't matter. Just like nothing matters in the great wide universe that we are. Simply just tiny creatures living on a tiny planet in a tiny galaxy...