Bloodkit growled in annoyance as his mother, Falconfeather, groomed his fur. He was supposed to eventually be the greatest warrior alive and he still was getting his fur cleaned by his mother. What's with her? It's not like it's my apprentice ceremony yet! The dark tom drew away with a disgusted grunt from Falconfeather's grooming tongue,
"I'm old enough to groom myself now, Mom," Bloodkit complained. "Besides if you keep on grooming me, it will probably go on forever. What if you still groom me when I'm a well-seasoned warrior?"
His mother gave a throaty purr. "You are so persistant, aren't you? Stop being ashamed." With one gray tabby paw, Falconfeather drew Bloodkit back to her and continued to groom his pelt.
Bloodkit sighed and closed his yellow eyes. One day, I'll be great. My enemies will fear me and flee as I approach them. Then, I won't be as weak and outspoken as I am. I will not be thought as foolish anymore at that time. The Clan will only think of me as brave and strong. In his mind, Bloodkit pictured the great battles he would have. The cats that he would slay in the name of ShadowClan. He imagined his name among the legends told by the elders, tales of him told to the kits later on. All of this could be his. The problem was that he wasn't a warrior or an apprentice yet so by standards he wasn't fit to train to battle and hunt. Oh, how he wanted to have his first battle so bad.
Then, there was a racket outside of the nursery. With a thought of curiosity, Bloodkit squirmed from Falconfeather's grip and made a small leap outside. The camp was immense to him, not that he really cared right now. All he wanted was to know what was going on right then. He saw his Blackflame, his father, wrestling with an unfamiliar cat and wondered if he should ask to join what he thought was a play-fight. That was when he noticed the blood from the wounds in Blackflame.
Bloodkit knew now that they were under attack, but by who he didn't really know. Possibly rogues were the attackers. Then a surge of happiness raced through Bloodkit. Now I could prove I am worthy to be an apprentice by fighting, he thought. But what about his mother? She wouldn't be pleased if he got himself killed in this fight. What could he do?
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 5:34am on Nov 19, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author