Post by ginger on Dec 10, 2019 19:48:03 GMT
Tickpaw walked across what seemed like an endless stretch of sand, the hot sun beating down on her. The black patches of her pelt soaked in sunlight like a sponge. It felt as if every grain of sand burnt her like sparks. But she could not go back to the camp. Not yet. She could not go home until she had collected the bones that her father had hidden. Every warrior knew that you should come home with bones, or let someone else find yours. At least, that is what she had been told.
It should have been easy for her to find the bones. After all, they were marked with the scent of the cat who had raised her for much of her life. It was a scent that had always been ingrained in her, so it should have been easy to find. But EveningStar had not made things easy for his daughter. He had hidden the bones well, and she was going to have to search.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tickpaw had finally found the correct bone, but now she had to get it home. The moon was already climbing up into the sky, and soon it would reach its peak. By now, all of her siblings had long since returned to camp, proudly carrying their bones. So, Tickpaw ran, her tortoise shell clamped in her jaws. She ran, praying to StarClan that somehow she would find her way home before the moon reached its full peak.
“Father!” she yowled as she skidded into camp. “Father I’m back!”
She cast a glance up at the sky, terrified at what she would see. Was she going to be too late? WOuld her father withold her warrior name from her? EveningStar came out of his den, and mirrored his daughter’s actions. Both of them could see that the moon was already high above them. Tickpaw bowed her head, and placed the tortoise shell at his paws.
“I am sorry father,” she mewed, not lifting her head.
“You have brought back your bone before Moonhigh,” EveningStar said.
Tickpaw’s head shot up. The look of pride in EveningStar’s eyes was one that she would never forget. By now, many other cats, including her siblings, had come out of their dens, curious to see what the commotion was. EveningStar climbed up the dried up tree, Tickpaw’s shell clamped in his jaws. With a clatter, he allowed it to fall back to the ground, where it cracked down the spine.
“Tickpaw, for your perseverence, you shall now be known as Tickstorm,” the ebony tomcat mewed, touching noses with his shocked daughter.
It should have been easy for her to find the bones. After all, they were marked with the scent of the cat who had raised her for much of her life. It was a scent that had always been ingrained in her, so it should have been easy to find. But EveningStar had not made things easy for his daughter. He had hidden the bones well, and she was going to have to search.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tickpaw had finally found the correct bone, but now she had to get it home. The moon was already climbing up into the sky, and soon it would reach its peak. By now, all of her siblings had long since returned to camp, proudly carrying their bones. So, Tickpaw ran, her tortoise shell clamped in her jaws. She ran, praying to StarClan that somehow she would find her way home before the moon reached its full peak.
“Father!” she yowled as she skidded into camp. “Father I’m back!”
She cast a glance up at the sky, terrified at what she would see. Was she going to be too late? WOuld her father withold her warrior name from her? EveningStar came out of his den, and mirrored his daughter’s actions. Both of them could see that the moon was already high above them. Tickpaw bowed her head, and placed the tortoise shell at his paws.
“I am sorry father,” she mewed, not lifting her head.
“You have brought back your bone before Moonhigh,” EveningStar said.
Tickpaw’s head shot up. The look of pride in EveningStar’s eyes was one that she would never forget. By now, many other cats, including her siblings, had come out of their dens, curious to see what the commotion was. EveningStar climbed up the dried up tree, Tickpaw’s shell clamped in his jaws. With a clatter, he allowed it to fall back to the ground, where it cracked down the spine.
“Tickpaw, for your perseverence, you shall now be known as Tickstorm,” the ebony tomcat mewed, touching noses with his shocked daughter.