Sun Mote Copse The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,

i'm assuming he still hasn't really met any of the newbies and hasn't been allowed too close :D

Fig was enthralled with his new siblings. He hadn't been able to spend too much time in contact with them yet, but he'd still managed to play the part of the helicoptor brother by spending much of his time lurking nearby, watching, listening, and basically just being the sweetest, most well-meaning creeper there ever could be. He felt a spasm of joy every time he caught sight of them moving about inside, felt his stomach flutter with excitement whenever he heard a happy cry or sleepy howl.

Another of the new customs he'd taken up was to bring them little gifts. Fig had no idea if they liked any of the trinkets he left for them, but he figured it was worth a shot. He certainly remembered enjoying silly things like this when he'd been a kid, so he tried to find them similar things--pinecones, squirrel furs, bones, spindly sticks and leaves as big as their little bodies. 
 
That day, he approached the den with a long strip of birch bark tucked between his teeth. It was only about as wide as his leg, but it was also as long so he thought they might find it interesting. He whined softly to let the family know he was there, sliding onto his stomach about a foot away from the den's entrance. He set the strip of bark down at his front toes and nudged it forward, smiling as he tried to sneak a peek inside to see if he could snag a look at one of them that day.