- Jun 27, 2023
- 56
- 6
- 8
To say that becoming a warrior was a dream come true would be inaccurate. It was a title Wheatpaw - no - Wheattail, now, hadn’t wanted until recently. The former wanderer had planned to slip free of Shadowclan long before this, but the strange group of misfits had grown on her. From the adorable kittens to the wacky warriors, and even the sticks-in-the-mud, Wheattail was glad to call these people family.
Even though reaching this rank wasn’t something the new warrior had in mind until recently, as soon as the Somali lookalike was set on it, she knew what her first act would be. With a exaggerated strut, autumn fur sauntered forwards before stopping at the camp’s entrance. One paw crossed the boundary, then another, before with a little hop the warrior was completely on the other side. “I am outside camp by myself!” she called back in self-satisfied delight, “and I can be outside camp on my own now, because-“ the girl walked in a circle for a moment, practically spinning in place as a wheaten tail swished around her, “I am a warrior!”
Yes, that was what Wheattail had been looking forward to most of all. No more annoying escorts whenever she wanted to take a walk, no more cats breathing down her neck whenever she strayed off a patrol’s route, the girl could finally enjoy some peace and quiet from time to time. “Perhaps I shall go on a walk by myself tonight? I have always been curious if the frogs make better conversation than you all.”
It was part of the paradox that was Wheattail: a cat newly-enamored with loyalty ecstatic about staking our her own sort of independence. A teasing tongue showed itself to the Shadowclanners in camp as the Somali lookalike began to trot around outside, still in view of everyone but too happy to compose herself.