Weasel shuffled nervously as he stood at the entrance of the camp, peering out at the vast wilderness beneath him. Was it really time already? Couldnāt he justā¦ stay in the nursery and help out with the other new-lives? The short tom let out a shaky breath, twisting around to look at his mother. Dawn Peak gave him an encouraging smile as Bat bounced about next to him, licking his head to reassure him.
He shuffled forward slowly, heading off to the rest of the territory to earn his name.
What was he told again? He had to hunt for something? That shouldnāt be too hard. Right? He could do this! He squared his shoulders and raced onwards, hoping to look confident despite the shake in his legs.
The forest seemed silent as he padded under the dappled sunlight, fur puffed up in nervousness. It felt like he had been walking forever! This place was just so big and he was just so small.
His thoughts wandered to Bat. Had his sibling already gotten their item and brought it back yet? They were going to be listeners! He climbed up a fallen log to get a better view of his surroundings. There had to be something somewhere that he could take back!
Grumbling under his breath, Weasel jumped down and continued on for a short while. The sun was slowly setting, and he had yet to get anything. Anxiety sent a shiver down his spine. What would happen if he didnāt get anything? Would he be allowed to come back before he was able to get his name? He sped up, jumping down a small ledge and racing through the forest.
A loud caw sounded above him, causing him to trip and tumble over his paws, rolling to a stop. Talons brushed against his fur as the raven landed in front of him. The two of them sized each other up as Weasel warily got to his paws. He could take down the raven and bring it home. He could show it off to his mom. Dawn Peak and Bat would be so proud of him!
He crouched down low, keeping his eyes on the raven. This couldnāt be that hard. He and Bat would play and āhuntā all the time! He just had to distract it!
And thus he began to dance.
Dancing really wasnāt the word for what he was doing. He was jumping, rolling, and flopping around. Honestly, he felt rather embarrassed about what he was doing.
It seemed to be working though. He inched closer and closer to the raven, making sure to keep the corvid in sight. Soon he was directly in front of the bird, twisting around to land back on his paws again. He launched himself, wrapping his paws around its neck as his hind legs scratched and scrabbled against its belly, biting down on its throat. A loud screech echoed around the forest as it lifted off of the ground, taking Weasel with it. Fear began to rise up once again. It was going to take him away! If he killed it too late, they would fall from too high up!
He renewed his efforts, getting more and more frantic. The raven careened back, no longer going any higher. This was his chance!
The two suddenly dropped, Weasel landing on his back with the birdās dead weight over him. He wiggled out from under it, flopping over to catch his breath. He never wanted to do that again!
His gaze drifted back to the dead raven.
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Weasel purred loudly as he and Bat Storm- Storm!- were given their new names. They were Listeners now! He was going to be a Prey Runner!
Frost Cliff was named his mentor. He glanced over at the Head Prey Runner warily before he turned to his mother. He bounced about, purrs returning, rubbing up against Bat Storm and Dawn Peak in celebration.Ā
And for now, everything was fine.
