Cinnamon was a hard worker, always feeling pressure from her father's expectations. At around 4 moons old, she had her first test of many to come. She was supposed to catch a seagull. Not just any seagull however, it was a seagull who swallowed a pearl. As instructed by her father, she could not return to camp until the correct one was slaughtered. On average, most members of the camp came back with the pearl after half a day. Cinnamon spent two days tracking down the seagull, absolutely parched. She almost fainted when she returned- not just because of exhaustion, but due to her father's looming stare. Of course, when her sister Nightingale took the test a day later, she passed with flying colours, coming back after two hours. From then on, she had a test every moon. But it wasn't long before her final and most important test- raid a clan camp. At 10 moons, she was marching over to a nearby clan- her mother's- with two cats of her choice. There were high stakes- fail and be executed, pass and everyone will know your name. The battle raged as the three cats fought a whole clan. Medicine herbs had been destroyed, prey had been tampered with and cats rampaged through the sand. Cinnamon had pinned a young warrior to the floor, teeth poised. But she couldn't bite down. This cat- all of these cats- were brothers or sisters or mothers or fathers or friends or daughters or sons. And they actually cared for eachother, unlike anyone Cinnamon had known. She fled the battle, knowing her father would be looking for her. She travelled for days and days onwards, trying to find a new beginning.

Thank you to ZJCWeasel for naming her!

Nightingale was the favourite- and she knew it. She had bursts of confidence and anger and emotions her father could easily control. Her mother and sister were merely background characters in her far-too-important life. She passed all tests with flying colours, had many deaths to her name and was the most admired cat in the clan- except her father, of course. She always felt closer to her father with every battle, a challenge she could use for motivation. Many, many moons passed by of her being convinced that she and her father were the perfect pair, unaware of how her father had truly felt. One day, when her father's fur was turning grey, Nightingale was ambushed by a group of clan cats, to her surprise. She was on the ground, unable to breathe. The last thing she saw was her father turning away.

Thanks to Kestrel-Wing for naming her!