Post by ☪ঌяανєηƒαηтαѕуঌ☪ on Aug 7, 2016 4:10:23 GMT -5
This was an entry for Rainfeather~'s short story contest, reposted from the old forums ^^
Sunlight.
Ecstasy and excitement suffused the air, carried on the breeze that was thin as a whisker.
Cats milled before Yellowpaw’s eyes, their wide eyes full of delight while they meowed their congratulations. The shecat moved forward, flanked by her denmates.
It was their day. The moment they had been waiting for.
Warrior ceremony.
“Cats of Mountainclan, warriors and queens! Elders and kits! Today we welcome!”
Noise and colors blurred into a haze of joy and eagerness. Her heart pounded, faster than a hummingbird and stronger than a badger. She staggered forward on the wave of expectation. This was their reward for endless waiting and forced patience, moons of training and dreaming. Almost unreal and within reach. The near sacred.
Warrior.
“Birdpaw, do you swear to protect this clan even at the cost of your life?”
The small tabby had barely been holding herself back, kept down only by Redpaw’s despising glances. Now, Birdpaw practically sprang forward, her excitement released.
“I do!”
“In light of your will and spirit, we name you Birdcall, warrior of Mountainclan!”
Yellowpaw swayed on her feet. Fightflower steadied her grey apprentice with a paw, barely moving and silent as a stone. She would not let anycat find weakness in Yellowpaw.
“Step forward, apprentice of Rustclaw! Redpaw, do you swear to protect this clan even at the cost of your life?”
“I do.” The words were loud but dignified, sharp as any word that left his mouth. His intelligent eyes gleamed.
“Then be known as Redfoot, for we honor your quick wit and skill!”
Yellowpaw’s gaze flickered to Greypaw beside her. The pale tom was calm as always. For an instance, his blue eyes flicked to hers as well, and he smiled slightly, encouragingly. No emotion flowed onto her eternally serious face, but the grey shecat bowed her head ever so slightly.
“Yellowpaw, do you swear to protect this clan, even at the cost of your life?”
This was it. This was the moment. The world swam before her eyes as she stepped up, the colors suddenly so bright they hurt her eyes.
“I do.”
“Mountainclan honors your unwavering determination, and I thank Fightflower for teaching you battle! From this day on, you shall be known as Yellowscar!”
A simple touch.
The next thing she could hear was a deafening din. She let the cascade of voices crash over her with a roar. Names spilled and blended together, red scars and yellow skies and grey calls and bird feet. It was like diving down a waterfall.
It was exhilarating.
It was ecstasy.
Then, suddenly, it was over.
Blinking sleepily, Yellowscar woke up at dawn, and waited. Nothing. She waited some more, trying to feel anything.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed. The morning felt no different, yesterday memories already fading and dim. Birds sang somewhere beyond the camp. Her back ached where she had lain on a piece of bracken. The scar on her chest throbbed faintly. Everything was ordinary.
Life goes on, even after becoming a warrior.
Sunlight.
Ecstasy and excitement suffused the air, carried on the breeze that was thin as a whisker.
Cats milled before Yellowpaw’s eyes, their wide eyes full of delight while they meowed their congratulations. The shecat moved forward, flanked by her denmates.
It was their day. The moment they had been waiting for.
Warrior ceremony.
“Cats of Mountainclan, warriors and queens! Elders and kits! Today we welcome!”
Noise and colors blurred into a haze of joy and eagerness. Her heart pounded, faster than a hummingbird and stronger than a badger. She staggered forward on the wave of expectation. This was their reward for endless waiting and forced patience, moons of training and dreaming. Almost unreal and within reach. The near sacred.
Warrior.
“Birdpaw, do you swear to protect this clan even at the cost of your life?”
The small tabby had barely been holding herself back, kept down only by Redpaw’s despising glances. Now, Birdpaw practically sprang forward, her excitement released.
“I do!”
“In light of your will and spirit, we name you Birdcall, warrior of Mountainclan!”
Yellowpaw swayed on her feet. Fightflower steadied her grey apprentice with a paw, barely moving and silent as a stone. She would not let anycat find weakness in Yellowpaw.
“Step forward, apprentice of Rustclaw! Redpaw, do you swear to protect this clan even at the cost of your life?”
“I do.” The words were loud but dignified, sharp as any word that left his mouth. His intelligent eyes gleamed.
“Then be known as Redfoot, for we honor your quick wit and skill!”
Yellowpaw’s gaze flickered to Greypaw beside her. The pale tom was calm as always. For an instance, his blue eyes flicked to hers as well, and he smiled slightly, encouragingly. No emotion flowed onto her eternally serious face, but the grey shecat bowed her head ever so slightly.
“Yellowpaw, do you swear to protect this clan, even at the cost of your life?”
This was it. This was the moment. The world swam before her eyes as she stepped up, the colors suddenly so bright they hurt her eyes.
“I do.”
“Mountainclan honors your unwavering determination, and I thank Fightflower for teaching you battle! From this day on, you shall be known as Yellowscar!”
A simple touch.
The next thing she could hear was a deafening din. She let the cascade of voices crash over her with a roar. Names spilled and blended together, red scars and yellow skies and grey calls and bird feet. It was like diving down a waterfall.
It was exhilarating.
It was ecstasy.
Then, suddenly, it was over.
Blinking sleepily, Yellowscar woke up at dawn, and waited. Nothing. She waited some more, trying to feel anything.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed. The morning felt no different, yesterday memories already fading and dim. Birds sang somewhere beyond the camp. Her back ached where she had lain on a piece of bracken. The scar on her chest throbbed faintly. Everything was ordinary.
Life goes on, even after becoming a warrior.