CloudLion was waiting in one of the chairs that formed part of the assorted debris of the workshop for the blacksmiths.  Porter had abandoned his daily duties in order to keep his elder supplied with a tin mug filled with tea and a small metal tray of edibles.  She stood in greeting when Kyyanno and Garlon returned from seeing Keeper off.  The pair offered their halves of the pleasantries before taking seats of their own.  Garlon found another chair, while the cheetah cub perched on the edge of a sturdy looking table.

“Well, young Far, sorry, Kyyanno,” CloudLion started, her head shaking slightly as she corrected her mistake.  “How have you been enjoying your first morning in our village?”  Kyyanno gave the question a moment of thought.  He could feel everyone looking at him, as if his whole future depended on his next sentence.  The cub noted a sudden change in Porter’s scent.  There was now a note of excitement mixed with anticipation, almost as if the ocelot was expecting the cheetah to say something nice about the blacksmiths.  

“I can honestly say,” the cub said, choosing his words carefully, “that I think I have a lot to learn about living life here.  Far more than I might have, had my old life not been turned upside down.”  The three older cats nodded at the reply.  Garlon was wearing the largest smile Kyyanno had seen him express all day, and Porter almost seemed to be beside himself with glee.  Only CloudLion managed to remain fully composed.

“That is a good answer,” she muttered, just loud enough to be heard.  “A thirst for knowledge in someone so young is commendable,” she continued in a louder voice.  You are quite correct in thinking life here is different from life in a normal village or city.  However, a lot of things are the same too, and I hope that over time you will come to appreciate these similarities as much as you would the differences.”

“So, what happens now?” the cheetah asked.  He looked at all three of the older cats in turn, though the two males were looking at CloudLion, as if expecting her to answer this question.  The oldest cat gave the back of her ear a quick scratch before answering.

“I will take you to the village hall to be formally introduced to the rest of the tribe’s elders, and then you will be collected by the family who have been chosen to look after you.  Then, once ThunderClaw returns from Avonwood, your training will begin.”

“Training?”  Kyyanno’s eyes widened with excitement.  It looked like things at the tribe would be very different from home, for his father would never, under normal circumstances, have let him start training at such a young age.

“Not fighting training, if that’s what you think, young one,” CloudLion replied.  Kyyanno’s excited expression turned crestfallen.  The two males seemed to notice this, offering apologetic expressions to return.  “You need to be educated in tribe life, as well as furthering your basic education in things such as reading and writing.  We value these teachings just as much as we value combat ability.  ThunderClaw will be your mentor while you are young.  He is old now, almost of an age where he will join the ranks of tribe elder.  He has great wisdom, and you would do well to absorb all he has to teach you.”

“I will try and do my best,” Kyyanno said, nodding in understanding.  CloudLion stood from her chair, and indicated that Kyyanno was to follow her.  He jumped down from the table he was sat upon and followed her to the door.

“See you soon, Kyyanno,” Porter called as the two felines left.  “Stop by here anytime.”  Garlon scowled at him, making it obvious that the last thing he wanted was a cub running around the forge all the time.  Porter just shrugged at Garlon, and returned to his duties as the door to the workshop closed with a heavy thud.

***

The route back to the centre of the village seemed to be slightly different to the route that Kyyanno remembered taking to get the proper blacksmith workshop.  CloudLion led the cub on a journey that bypassed the library which fronted for the blacksmiths and took them directly to the village centre.  Kyyanno wondered how he would ever remember his way around the crazy maze of trails which seemed to branch off in endless and random directions.  He was about to ask how he was supposed to navigate the village when the imposing frontage of the village hall came into view.

Two trees had either grown or been forced to grow bending over to face each other, forming a tall arc.  The residents of Windrush had used these trees as the base for the front of the hall.  Stone steps went up to a set of double doors that was at least high enough for two large tigers standing on each other’s shoulders to fit through.  Each side of the door had either a knocker or a handle, Kyyanno could not figure out which it was, near the centre partition.  They were made of metal, and were shaped like lion heads, secured to the wooden doors through the mane.  As the pair approached the steps, CloudLion turned to the young cheetah and started to smarten him up as best she could.

“We are about to appear in front of the elders of the tribe, Kyyanno,” she said, trying to flatten down a stubborn piece of head fluff.  “These are cats who have served as fighters and protectors of the tribe for many seasons, who are now too old to fight, but still young enough to lead.  They expect respect, so keep your tongue in check, and only speak when you are spoken to.  Understand.”  Kyyanno nodded.  The situation had suddenly become a lot more serious, and he was a little nervous.  CloudLion seemed to pick up on the nerves, for she put a reassuring paw on the cub’s shoulders, and together they walked up the steps.

Before they had reached the top step, the two doors parted to allow the two cats entry into the building.  As Kyyanno passed the doors, he glanced back to see two strong looking tigers pulling their side of the door open using a large metal loop mounted to the back of each door.  They both gave him a kind nod and a smile before pushing the great door closed again.

The corridor which welcomed the two felines was larger than any corridor Kyyanno had ever seen before.  The view from the front of the building had been imposing but rather deceptive as what it hid from view was a long walkway.  The walls were a deep red wooden colour, and light was provided by plenty of windows along the way.  Every now and again the windows would stop, and a door appear in the middle of the gap.  Below his feet the cheetah could feel the cold stone floor, but it seemed even and flat now.  It was also painted a deep red, a few shades different from the walls.  The whole scene felt very regal to the young feline, and he could not help but feel intimidated by the building.  Even the bustling City Hall of Avonwood could not compare to the simple yet far more elegant hall of Windrush, though the City Hall was far more claustrophobic.

As the pair walked, Kyyanno noticed CloudLion seeming more and more tense as she guided the cub to the room where they would meet the other leaders of the tribe.  While she appeared to be calm on the outside, the cheetah noticed that the pace had increased a little, and the old grey cat was breathing just a touch heavier than before.  This made the young cub even more determined to be on behaviour better than his best, for he did not want to let CloudLion down on his first full day with the tribe.

The corridor turned a couple of corners before a door that was much larger than the others they had passed blocked their way.  CloudLion took a deep breath before looking down at Kyyanno and smiling a weak smile.  It was the first time he had seen the elder look less than fully composed without being hindered by humour or fermented drinks.  He felt he had to be strong again, for both himself and for CloudLion.  After the time spent being strong with the cubs and the slave traders, Kyyanno felt rather experienced at this task.  Both cats took a deep, nerve settling breath before CloudLion knocked three loud knocks against the door.  A deep and booming voice invited them to enter the chamber.

The doors were opened from within by a small black panther dressed in a fine red uniform with a stiff white collar and cuffs.  Brilliant white lines etched the edges of his suit, and brilliant brass buttons appeared to emit their own light.  The clothes threw Kyyanno mentally off balance and he could not help but gasp in shock and awe.  The building was fine and regal, but he had never seen such a display of majesty in anywhere he had previously been.  The mayor of Avonwood might have had fine and expensive tastes, and a personal tailor, but the uniform of the person who opened the door put all of Avonwood’s pomp and fanfare to shame and made the mayor’s own red ensemble look like mere rags in comparison.

Lined up at the far end of the room were five large chairs.  Not quite large enough to be thrones, but not so small they would seem unimportant.  The centre chair was empty, and Kyyanno guessed that chair was reserved for CloudLion.  The felines in the remaining chairs were dressed casually, which seemed to put a far more informal and friendly atmosphere in the room, which Kyyanno greatly appreciated.

The chair on the left held an aged jaguar.  He bore a resemblance to StarSeer, the jaguar from Kyyanno’s dreams, but on his seat he looked far more important than the cub had ever seen StarSeer look.  He seemed to be paying close attention to the young cheetah as both felines approached the chairs.  Stopping, CloudLion gave a small bow to her equals.  Kyyanno, unsure if he should bow or kneel, gave a slightly bigger bow than the grey cat and hoped he had not offended anyone.  

“Welcome, Far,” the jaguar said.  His voice was thin and reedy, a little like StarSeer’s.  “My brother, StarSeer, has informed us of your arrival.”

“With the greatest of respect, CathLion,” CloudLion interrupted, “but the young Far wishes for now to retain his birth name of Kyyanno.”  The jaguar nodded a slow and understanding nod.

“Very well,” he resumed, “Kyyanno it shall be during informal situations.  Though, understand young Kyyanno,” he turned his attention to the cub and locked eyes with him.  “There will be times where you are brought before us in a very formal manner.  This could be for a great number of reasons, though is most likely to be the ceremony when you become a fighter for the tribe.  That is a good way in the future, however, so let us not get ahead of ourselves.  There will be times where the name Kyyanno will be disregarded, and your tribe name of Far will be used.  With time, you may become FarClaw, and if you survive long enough, maybe even FarLion.”

“What my affluent lord is saying,” a female Lynx who was sitting at the other end of the row broke in, taking control of the conversation before the jaguar could ramble on any further, “is that there will be times when you are required to use the tribe given name and not your birth name.  Learn to love and accept the name Far, because that is what the ancestors have foretold for you.”

A confused expression spread over Kyyanno.  He had been told that the ancestors kept watch over the comings and goings of tribe cats and their descendants, and that on rare occasions of greatest need, the seer could walk the dreams of other tribe cats, even if they were not presently active members of the tribe.  He knew this because StarSeer had come to him in his own dreams, helping Kyyanno reach Windrush relatively unscathed.  He had never been told that the ancestors also decided on a cub’s name, however, though it did explain why everyone knew him as Far instead of Kyyanno.

“Yes, well,” the jaguar spluttered.  His displeasure at being cut short was apparent.  “Now that the issue of your name is sorted, Kyyanno, allow me to introduce myself.  I am CathLion.   Beside me  is LlewLion.  CloudLion you have met, and then there’s MorLion and finally you have already heard from SkyLion today.”  There was a slight note of annoyance in CathLion’s voice as he introduced SkyLion.

Kyyanno looked at each feline as they were announced.  LlewLion was the only actual lion in the room.  His mane had been brushed in a way that made it appear large and intimidating, yet his face was a mixture of kindness and firmness.  Even though the situation was casual, the lion wore clothes that would seem overdressed in a smart-casual situation.  His shirt was a proper dress shirt, complete with frills around the cuffs.  He looked as imposing as Kyyanno believed a lion should look.

MorLion, on the other hand, had taken to the idea of a meeting in casual attire to heart with aplomb   The only clues that this leopard was in fact a tribe elder was his physical appearance.  He looked like a cat that had seen many seasons of hard work and fighting, though life and age had taken their toll on him.  Kyyanno still did not fancy his chances in the event the two cats ever came to fight, however, even if it was just training. 

The female lynx, SkyLion, was the youngest looking of the five tribe elders.  Her features still seemed to have some life left to live, and Kyyanno wondered if she had seen the battles and hard life that her male counterparts, and CloudLion, had seen.  Not that it would have mattered, for if she was an elder, then someone must have seen value in her leadership skills, the cub reasoned. 

“Allow me to assure you,” MorLion said with a cheer in his voice, “that meetings like these are exceedingly unusual, and that we only called this one so we could all hear the story of your journey here.  If you are ready to tell it, that is.”

Kyyanno felt his cheeks burn a little with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and a hint of pride.  His journey had indeed been more than a little strange and out of the ordinary, but the elders of the tribe were the last creatures in the world he thought would be interested in hearing about them.  With a small nod, the cub agreed to tell his story.

“Good boy,” MorLion cheered, obviously very excited to hear the story.  “Garlon will be here shortly, yes young one, he is more than just a blacksmith.  He is the village recorder too.  You must have wondered about our library in the lobby of the smithy?”

“You can speak, you know?”  The voice of LlewLion was softer than his appearance, but sounded like it was a voice that was put on for Kyyanno’s benefit, much like Garlon had done when they first met.  The smile the lion wore told the same story.

“Thank you, sir,” Kyyanno replied, visibly relaxing as the weight of utterly best behaviour was lifted from his shoulders.  The relaxation drew a small chuckle from SkyLion.  

The sound of the door being knocked made everyone jump a little, and the black panther opened the door to find Garlon and Porter waiting to come in.  Garlon was holding a pair of chairs stacked together in one arm and one end of a desk in the other.  Porter had both paws filled with the tail end of the desk.  They entered the room and bade the leaders a good afternoon while they set up.  One of the chairs was for the liger, and the other one was for Kyyanno.

With a quick bow to the elders and a nod to Kyyanno, Porter left the room when he had finished helping Garlon to set his table up in front of the row of seats, at an angle so the story could be told to the assembled leaders and the liger at the same time.  Garlon invited Kyyanno to sit, and eased himself into his writing chair.  From a drawer, the liger pulled a small pile of paper and a pen, and prepared himself for some writing.  When he was sure everyone was ready, and when CloudLion had taken her rightful seat in the centre of the elders, Kyyanno started his story.