Overture Downs Cassiopeia

Esma is in direct vicinity of Riverclan's borders.

Since early childhood Esma had been a very uncomplicated and easy child to have around. She had been happy to eat and sleep and not make any noise as a newborn. She had been timid and shy as a toddler, preferring the safety and darkness of their den to the world outside that her siblings had been so eager to explore. Once coaxed to go out and explore, she had limited her playground to the rendevouz's site. When it came to her - unlike 99% of the rest of the children in the world - you could be absolutely sure of two things: 1. Esma stayed and waited, where you told her to stay and wait; 2. If it was suspiciously quiet, you could be confident that Esma was not getting in trouble or cooking up mischief. Most often the kid would be simply daydreaming with a far-off look in her eyes and a smile of a person, who was witnessing something that remained hidden to other people's eyes. 

Now - almost an adult in her body - but very immature, naive and childish in her mind, she preferred to spend time in her own company. If necessary and required she was there with the rest of the family to work and help, but her quiet presence helped her to blend in the background. So much that one would forget that she had been there in the beginning and be surprised to see her. There weren't many things Esma was proud of about herself, but the ability to become invisible gave her a bit of gratification. The rest of the time she spent her days going around Riverclan's territory, practicing hunting small game and living inside her own little world. Evenings she returned to settle next to Ash Paw for the night and occasionally, when it felt right, to ask some questions about the faith. 

Today she had come to the western edge of the hollow, where the line of the forest gave way to a meadow that appeared endless to Esma. There were numerous small rivulets and creeks feeding the river inside her home and she went to see and greet them all. You see, to her the river to which her home owed its name, felt as a living thing to her, therefore it felt important to respect and express her gratitude to the smaller entities that kept the river strong and going. Then her attention was drawn to cattails, which grew on the banks and appeared so odd. Mom had never told, what had those cats been, who had left their tails here, and whether they would ever return here. Esma also did not dare to ask, because she was convinced that the vast knowledge about plants of Ash Paw's was something you were born with or that you simply had to know. And silly questions like these fit children not wolves, who were about to enter the adult ranks. 

However, this did not mean that she could not come up with a story, in case anyone asked, right? So, she sat down, fixated her gaze on the meadow of cattails and willed herself to imagine.