Task 16: Make a legend/myth for your clan that the elders and queens tell, and how this myth came to be.
Cricketkit bound through the camp, rushing towards his father’s den. However, as he rounded the corner, he landed back with a thud, hitting the ground as a cloud of dust went into the air. “Careful, young un’,” the old cat muttered as he continued walking.
When Cricketkit saw who he’d run into, he rushed forward, following the elder. “Hey mister Falconwind, can you tell me a story?”
The elder just sighed, continuing to walk away. “No, not now,” he muttered.
“Oh please, please, please,” Cricketkit begged, jumping in front of the elder.
Falconwind just sighed, nodding as he motioned for the kit to follow him. “Fine, come along.”
As the entered the elder’s den, Falconwind lied down and the kit quickly sat in front of him, tail wagging in excitement. “They say there is a ghost cat within the forest, searching for cats that were betrayed by their mates to take away with her.”
The white cat strolled through the forest, paws crunching down on the leaves that lay below, breaking the silence of the nightly woods. They didn’t speak word, simply holding their head low. A mist rolled over the ground as the ghost let out chirping noises, following the path of paw prints towards the camp that she once called home.
As they entered the base of the mountain, the large cat with the flowing fur stepped around the rocks, using them as a cover from sight. They climbed up onto a ledge, curling around themselves as they watched the camp of Thornclan that lay below, watching as the cat they had followed returned to their home. A single tear rolled down their cheek as they began to howl along with the wind, mourning for all that they had lost.
“They say, the ghost that walks the wood is the mate of our first leader, desperately searching for her mate, after he murdered her, thinking she had left him for another member of the clan. If any cats encounter her in the night, she will lure them away from the clan, never to be seen again. She thinks she is protecting you from the clan of lies,” Falconwind mews to the kit in front of him who watched with fear.
“W…what if she takes us away?” Cricketkit chirped in, fear lacing his voice.
The elder chuckled at the kit. “That’s why kits aren’t to leave the camp,” the elder replied, "or she'll take you too."
With a gulp, the kit began to shake as he tried to hold his ground. "That’s a lie!" he yelled.
“It’s very true, the ghost cat: her name was White Feather. Her mate, Little Flower, killed her best friend, Pear Bush, in a jealous rage, thinking that the two wanted to be mates instead before killing her too. When their kit, Golden Wing, found out he left with his mate up onto the mountain, cutting off contact with the clan. Apparently, there is still a distance ancestor up in the mountains now that hates our clan. With his love gone, Little Flower grew cruel, changing the meaning of our clan to a place of war where hatred blossomed quicker than the flowers did,” Falconwind explained to the kit.
Cricketkit jumped up, gulping as he turned to dart off. “Thanks for the story, mister Falconwind,” the kit called back as he ran to find his father.
As he was exiting the elder’s den, there was two blue eyes staring at him from the woods that were gone in a blink, no trace of there being any cat there. Cricketkit sped up, running to find his father in fear. “Papa! Papa!” The kit cried loudly.
When Cricketkit saw who he’d run into, he rushed forward, following the elder. “Hey mister Falconwind, can you tell me a story?”
The elder just sighed, continuing to walk away. “No, not now,” he muttered.
“Oh please, please, please,” Cricketkit begged, jumping in front of the elder.
Falconwind just sighed, nodding as he motioned for the kit to follow him. “Fine, come along.”
As the entered the elder’s den, Falconwind lied down and the kit quickly sat in front of him, tail wagging in excitement. “They say there is a ghost cat within the forest, searching for cats that were betrayed by their mates to take away with her.”
The white cat strolled through the forest, paws crunching down on the leaves that lay below, breaking the silence of the nightly woods. They didn’t speak word, simply holding their head low. A mist rolled over the ground as the ghost let out chirping noises, following the path of paw prints towards the camp that she once called home.
As they entered the base of the mountain, the large cat with the flowing fur stepped around the rocks, using them as a cover from sight. They climbed up onto a ledge, curling around themselves as they watched the camp of Thornclan that lay below, watching as the cat they had followed returned to their home. A single tear rolled down their cheek as they began to howl along with the wind, mourning for all that they had lost.
“They say, the ghost that walks the wood is the mate of our first leader, desperately searching for her mate, after he murdered her, thinking she had left him for another member of the clan. If any cats encounter her in the night, she will lure them away from the clan, never to be seen again. She thinks she is protecting you from the clan of lies,” Falconwind mews to the kit in front of him who watched with fear.
“W…what if she takes us away?” Cricketkit chirped in, fear lacing his voice.
The elder chuckled at the kit. “That’s why kits aren’t to leave the camp,” the elder replied, "or she'll take you too."
With a gulp, the kit began to shake as he tried to hold his ground. "That’s a lie!" he yelled.
“It’s very true, the ghost cat: her name was White Feather. Her mate, Little Flower, killed her best friend, Pear Bush, in a jealous rage, thinking that the two wanted to be mates instead before killing her too. When their kit, Golden Wing, found out he left with his mate up onto the mountain, cutting off contact with the clan. Apparently, there is still a distance ancestor up in the mountains now that hates our clan. With his love gone, Little Flower grew cruel, changing the meaning of our clan to a place of war where hatred blossomed quicker than the flowers did,” Falconwind explained to the kit.
Cricketkit jumped up, gulping as he turned to dart off. “Thanks for the story, mister Falconwind,” the kit called back as he ran to find his father.
As he was exiting the elder’s den, there was two blue eyes staring at him from the woods that were gone in a blink, no trace of there being any cat there. Cricketkit sped up, running to find his father in fear. “Papa! Papa!” The kit cried loudly.