Random Short Stories

Molding The Young [❄️/🪽]

[if you couldn't already tell I have a lot to say in this one]
In the heart of the expansive rainforest territory, beneath the dappled canopy of leaves, lay the territory of the Guild Of Freedom. Tall trees bordered their camp, casting shadows that danced across the ground as the sun climbed to its zenith.

The scent of earth and leaf mingled with the sharp tang of pine, but there was little of nature's serenity in the heart of one specific cat: a young Crystallo named Peridot.

Peridot was a slender, tortoiseshell she-cat with fiery orange hues woven through her fur. She was agile and fast, a promising hunter in the eyes of all who knew her.

Yet beneath her agile exterior lay the heart of a dreamer, yearning for something that went beyond the unyielding expectations set upon her by a single cat—her mother, Carnelian.

Carnelian was a formidable hunter in her day, famed throughout the tribe for her precision and skill. She roamed the woods with an energy that radiated, her eyes as sharp as her claws, always in search of prey.

For her, hunting was not merely a skill; it was a legacy, a lifeblood. Carnelian's youthful exploits in the treetops and underbrush were legends spoken of in hushed tones around the evening fires. She craved for her daughter the same thrill, the same sense of utter invincibility that she'd felt in her youth.

Remembering the glory of her youth, she projected her aspirations onto Peridot as if her child were but a reflection of herself—a version of herself reborn.

"Hunting is life, Peridot!" she insisted, her voice as unyielding as the stone beneath their paws. "It is a tradition our family passed down for generations. You must hunt, my daughter, or you will never be a true cat. I loved hunting, and one day, you will too, if you just put in the effort."

Yet Peridot felt herself suffocating beneath the weight of that legacy. Before dawn broke each day, her mother would nip at her heels, urging her to practice her hunting techniques—stalking, pouncing, and returning to camp with the warmth of fresh-kill.

Peridot would stare up through the branches, dreaming of the stars and the moonlit rivers beyond their clan boundaries. She wanted to go down the path of a herbalist; she loved the smell of medicinal herbs and the pretty flowers adorning their huts.

Yet, her mother had interfered with her Choosing ceremony, asking the Guild alphas to allow her 'legacy to continue', and it was with this interruption that Peridot's hopes of learning the art of herbal medicine was dashed.

While her lithe form leaped and prowled at her mother's command, her heart ached with each kill, each descent into the shadows. She could feel herself slipping away, a true self drowned out by the ceaseless chants and commands, "Stay sharp, be swift! You must bring back enough for the guild."

Even as a kitten, her mother had made her goal to live vicariously through her daughter incessantly clear.

With bittersweet feelings tugging at her heart, Peridot remembered a time she emerged through the tall grass with a crown of flowers weaving through her fiery tortoiseshell pelt to greet her mother.

The sheer joy that had lit up her face was a moment of solace for Carnelian, albeit fleeting. The next sentence out of her mouth was one Peridot would grow to despise hearing for her entire apprentice life.

"Peridot! We're going hunting." Her tone had bore an urgency that the little Crystallo couldn't help but feel.

"But, Mother, I found these flowers! Aren't they beautiful?" Peridot twirled, showcasing her bouquet with pride.

"They are lovely, but hunting is what makes us warriors. We need to practice." Carnelian pressed on, her voice brooking no argument.

Peridot's ears had flattened as she looked down. "I don't want to hunt today."