InsuR

 I N S U R R E C T I O N  

 BY FOXSTEP

They decide everything

Your calling

Your name

Your life

And there is nothing you can do about it

But be grateful

But there are ones who cannot

The ones who simply cannot see the justice

The ones who feel like prisoners, lost in reality

So behold what comes near

The INSURRECTION

ONE

Calla sucked in the crisp mountain breeze, and it pulled back, swirling around her dark brown pelt and along the rest of camp. It was the typical day for most cats of the Tribe of Mountain Rivers, carrying prey in and heading out for the hunters, rounding up cats to train with for the warriors, but for Calla? A kit coming of age? Today was a very special day for her, when she and the other kits her age were becoming apprentices - and found out their future.

How wonderful it was to know exactly how your life would be like? Would she spend each day hunting for food for her tribe in shifts or fight her enemies off, a hero out on the battlefield? Whatever it was, she couldn't wait.

"Calla!"

She turned to see Hydrangea, her mother padding over to her. Hydrangea began washing Calla's pelt, much to her annoyance. "I look fine, Mother," she wriggled away.

Hydrangea sighed. "Today's a big day! I want you to look your best."

"But my pelt is perfect and not a hair is out of place." Calla teased.

Hydrangea chuckled. "You just want to talk to Poinsettia and Alabaster, right."

Calla smiled with all the pleading she could and Hydrangea gave in, saying they had better stay in camp and do nothing that would ruffle Calla's fur. Calla promised, and went off to find her best friends.