Finally Out

[h a r e . xxx]

[cs=2][atrb=border,0,true][bg=#551011][th] &&..FAWNPAW i could really use a wish right now... The little ginger she-cat had her fur fluffed out in excitement, too excited to be bothered about smoothing her pelt like she would normally do so obessively. She was finally an apprentice, able to leave camp and train to be able to serve her Clan. Her eyes were gleaming, still surprising herself with how energized she felt. All of her self-conscious habits were pushed back in her mind for once in her life since losing her tail. Her rump moved as she tried flicking what was left of her tail. To top things off, her mentor was Larksong. Her own mother! Her mind was racing with energy and she stood up and shook herself to try to calm her little body down. Grooming her fur, she made herself somewhat less disheaveled, though her fur was putting up a good fight and not lying flat how it normally would. "Fawnpaw! I can't believe that's my name now!" she mewed quietly to herself. It would be a hard six moons at least until she could become a warrior, but she was ready for it. No matter how rough it would be, she would take it. Well, maybe not the snakes. She would always be at least wary of them after her accident. But if she had to swallow that fear, she would make herself at least not look like she was afraid. A warrior could show no fear. 'Warrior name, here I come!'

[sil]

l a r k s o n g

Larksong really had to hustle to keep up with her new apprentice. Fawnpaw was an eager and enthusiastic apprentice, and Larksong couldn’t be happier with being given the opportunity to mentor her. Of course, if she were honest, Larksong was rather biased, seeing as Fawnpaw was her own daughter.

Regardless, Larksong was overjoyed to return to Warrior duties. The life of a queen really did not suit her, despite her unshakable love toward her kits. It was time for her to get back out into the thick of things—this time with her sons and daughter by her side. Larksong proudly padded alongside Fawnpaw, affectionately brushing her fluffy tail against Fawnpaw’s sandy pelt. She felt a familiar pang of sadness at the sight of the apprentice’s fur—the color was just a few shades lighter than her brother Foxkit. Her youngest son had been missing for a while now, leading most to believe he had fallen prey to one of the swamp’s predators, or had gone crazed and headed off toward the mountains.

Larksong refused to believe either. Forcing the worrisome thoughts away, she turned to Fawnpaw with a bright smile. “Has Thrushstar given you any chores, or are you ready to head out?” she meowed. Truthfully, Larksong was keen on getting Fawnpaw out of the camp and away from the sickness that seemed to be spreading through their Clanmates.