Prompt: I decided to write about a bunch of Goldstar’s ‘firsts’.
Wordcount: 1243
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Goldkit took her first step outside the den at three moons old, paw pads moving from the soft moss that lined the den she had been kitted on to the frosted ground. She let out a hiss, surprised at the sudden change of temperature.
“It’s cold.” Goldkit meowed as she looked at her mother, who let out a purr of amusement.
“It’s leaffall,” Brightpelt meowed. “It will get colder still.” Goldkit wrinkled her nose.
“Ew.” She mewed, before darting fully outside of the den to pounce clumsily onto a fallen leaf. “Maybe one day I’ll fight off leafbare.”
Her mother let out another purr, moving to rasp her tongue over her daughter’s head. “My brave little warrior.” She looked down fondly as her only kit wriggled out of her reach. “Come now, little kit. Let’s go back inside to the warmth.”
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Leaving the camp for the first time with her mentor, Rainmist, Goldpaw was excited. She bounced around the elder cat, allowing him to lead her through their territory while eagerly demanding to know where they were going, and when she was going to become a warrior.
“Stand still, young one.” Her mentor meowed, gently. “Being eager will only get you so far. You must learn to simply perceive what is around you.” He glanced around. “Tell me what you sense.”
Goldpaw tilted her head. “I… see trees? And the forest.” Her mentor nodded, flicking his tail to tell her to continue. “I can hear… us breathing, and talking. And the wind, that too,” she frowned a moment. “There’s something else. I don’t know what it is. I suppose it sounds like the wind, only much louder, and more distinct.”
“Very good Goldpaw. That is the river. What can you smell?” Rainmist watched his apprentice as she began to scent the air.
“Is that a mouse? It’s faint, that means it’s old, right?” Goldpaw looked at her mentor for confirmation. He nodded.
“You show promise. Come, I will take you around the rest of the territory. I want you to stay aware of your surroundings. Tell me what you sense around us as we walk.”
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Goldpaw had been training for several days, the silver tom that was her mentor had been ensuring that she knew how to balance when hunting, and the different types of stalking required for different prey. Goldpaw would be the first to admit that she definitely confused most of them with each other.
“Do you remember the way to the dark pines?” Rainmist asked her. She nodded, awaiting instructions. “You will attempt to hunt there. I will be watching. I want to see how you treat this exercise.” Goldpaw nodded eagerly. Her first hunting trip! Excitement coursed through her veins. Her mentor purred with amusement. “Go on then.” Before he had fully finished speaking, Goldpaw raced past him towards the dark pines.
It took several moments for her to realise that tearing through the forest was an easy way to scare off all the nearby prey, and so she slowed to a swift trott. Her ears twisted this way and that, searching for the sound of life throughout the layer of undergrowth. She took a deep breath, scenting the area around her. The smell of the pines overtook most of the other scents, and she began to move on when she smelt it. Mouse. Her ears immediately began to filter out the sounds around her, focusing in on the small rodent. She took another deep breath. Remain downwind. When hunting mice, they feel you, rather than see or scent. Keep pawsteps light. Balance your weight evenly over paws. In pine needles, keep your tail off the ground. Rainmist’s voice echoed in her head. She slipped into the crouch that she associated with hunting mice, her mentor’s familiar mew correcting her form mentally. She took her first step towards the rodent, managing to not disturb the foliage beneath her. Goldpaw’s next step was louder, and she winced slightly as the mouse looked up from the seed it was nibbling on. She froze, waiting to see if it would bolt, but it remained perched on the root and began to nibble again. She stepped forward, and took another silent step, and then another, and another. Then she realised that she was close enough to pounce, and she quietly began to prepare for the burst of movement she would have to produce. Goldpaw began to bunch her muscles, getting ready for the leap. And she sprung. The mouse looked up, as the apprentice pounced forwards, and her paws connected with the small body. On instinct, she leant down and nipped the rodent’s throat. She looked down at the piece of prey that lay below her, and she let out the breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding.
“I did it,” she breathed. “I caught it. My first successful hunt.”
A familiar, rumbling purr echoed from behind her. “Well done Goldpaw, that was an impressive catch.” Rainmist stepped out from the bushes several foxlengths behind her. “You did very well.” Goldpaw couldn’t contain her happy purr.
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Tonight was the night, Goldpaw realised. Her warrior ceremony. She sat on the edge the tribe’s camp, tail flicking back and forth from a mixture of excitement and anxiety. She looked up as Briarstar leapt up onto the ledge of the cliff wall. The leader let out a yowl, calling the clan to a meeting. The tribe began to gather, giving Goldpaw proud looks. Once Briarstar was satisfied with the number of cats present, she called out to the group.
“One among us is ready to take her next pawsteps in her life.” She surveyed the group. “Rainmist, do you believe that your apprentice has the patience, kindness, loyalty and integrity to become a warrior of our tribe?”
The silver tabby stepped forwards. “I believe that Goldpaw will be an exceptional warrior who has all of those qualities and more.”
“Then Goldpaw, please step forwards to gain your warrior name.” The leader stared down on Goldpaw, and the apprentice could feel the clan’s eyes on her. She stepped forwards to stand below the ledge.
“Make the jump to the next part of your journey.” Goldpaw leapt up the ledge, muscles bunching to give her a powerful lift as her leader commanded. “Well done. You have made the leap. You are no longer an apprentice. I name you Goldheart, in honour of your empathy.” Her leader stepped forwards and licked her forehead. The pair turned to the tribe. “I present to you, your new warrior, Goldheart!”
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The fire burnt Goldheart’s nose as she fled. Her heartbeats echoed in her ears in time with her pawsteps. She did not stop running. She couldn’t.
The fire had spread so quickly, consuming the camp, then spreading into the forest. Trees caught alight like kindling due to the drought that had been affecting the tribe for almost a moon.
Once she reached the hills that bordered the forest, which the tallfolk had cleared of trees, Goldheart turned to face what was left of her territory. A sorrowful sound escaped her throat as she looked out at the devastated land. The fire still burnt, however the growing clouds overhead signaled the coming of rain. Hopefully enough to put of the wild flames.
As the first drops began to fall, Goldheart mewed to herself.
”I will rebuild our tribe. I will make it strong again.”
