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Pent the Northcub
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Pent the Skater
naming_day_-_furrychrome.doc
Keywords male 982618, cub 213500, feline 121524, boy 64844, shota 26633, magic 19964, kitten 7964, adventure 4600, tribal 4359, challenge 1093, historical 367, sabretooth 290, coming of age 107, furrychrome 77
Naming Day by Pent Ghelsburg

Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this work are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is purely coincidental. They are the original and rightful intellectual property of their creators. I use them with permission and respect. This work involves underaged characters. You have been warned.

A fire blazes at the center of a small town in the center of a large wooded area. The Lost Woods, as it was known by the outside world was a vast wilderness mostly untouched by civilization. The forest sitting on an island off on its own far estranged from any continent.  It remained of the places remained uncharted by the so-called explorers of the "Old World".  Yet, the denizens of the small town knew naught of the colonization for the glory of King and country.

A tightly knit community lived in the tiny village situated around the fire. "Tzeltal" as it was known by the locals was a tribal group of nomads who had long ago given up the traditional ways of gathering. It's people a small group of what later would come later to be known as "furs". The pseudonym comes later to recognize the indigenous anthropomorphic populations of North and South Mazeo.

Tzeltal was a small island that was not connected to the mainland. Tribe scouts had connected with the outside cultures, through the use of sea-faring trade. The so-called tribe of Tzeltal was known as the Chiaka's and to their people were known as the best hunters by the other tribes. A reputation merited by their victory in the "Grand Hunt" where were victorious in every bout.

The small tribe of natives was a people who lived on the precipice of modernity. While They lived in adobe sun-dried huts with closed-in and no doors to speak of. The tools available to them varied in make mixing the old and the new.  Weapons varied from steel-coated blades to iron-blazed spears. They had yet to fully make the transition to entirely metal-based goods.

One clan of the Chiakas tribe was a pack of sabretooth tigers. The breed of large cats had become less numerous in recent ages past yet a sparse population remained. This particular clan was the only one in the village and had been granted the clan name Felistris since they were one of the only species of big cats in the entirety of the community. The clan itself is a smaller one of 3 members.

Clans in the community were loose at best. Children were left to fend for themselves after they reached 5 years of age. As such, the young sabretooth cub knew very little of his parents. It was an expectation that every youngling in the village shared. After they turned 5, the cubs were thrust into community life and given simple tasks to prepare them for life as an adult By the time they were 10, they were very much considered adults.

The community off the land, much like many of the other members of the tribe. His father was a burly beast that was a famed hunter of so-called legendary beasts. The man had passed in a village hunt where he did not return. This happened when the cub was very young and so he did not know of him very well outside of stories and legends that involved him.

His mother had recently ascended to the position of village elder Making sure of needs like supplies and mustering recruits from across the spectrum of inhabitants in the community. Before that she was just as fierce of a warrior, charging herself to defend the villager. The woman used the skeletons of hunt targets to make weapons for her makeshift defense force. She was well respected and sometimes feared by the other residents.

The two large cats had been a single son, who had not yet been given a name. The boy had just turned 10 years of age and by the standards of the tribe, it meant he was to undergo his coming-of-age ceremony. As was with every child his age, he was more or less expected to overcome the challenges on his own. After all their tribe was bred to not show weakness, and as such the cub was expected to handle himself for the last few years.

It was the day of his ceremony, one known to the Chiaka's as the name day. One's call sign was something to be earned. Young children were not given them until they were ready to earn the trust and responsibility of the tribe. After all life expectancy was low and so they had to make do with what they had especially considering the low population of their tribe. It was a day that the boy had only heard of in the hush and whispers of his peers, but he felt ready for it.

It was early in the morning and the roosters had cried their morning bellows to signal that the day was anew. The Elder Shaman arose from her hut, her tattered robes draped along the floor as she made her way from her residence to the site of the ceremony. Cubs undergoing the coming-of-age ceremony were expected to be there before she was and she fully expected them to comply, lest they be humiliated publicly.

The woman was the boy's mother, even if he did not know it. Her name had become synonymous with her title as her traditional call sign had been lost to time. She had survived several generations and was now in the twilight of her life. Her gait was slow, aided by a large staff with two coconuts that hung by ropes from its tip. Around her neck, a rope thread necklace adorning dried-out radishes. She was a suspicious old coot, believing the stuff to keep away evil spirits.

The entire village knew of her. Her reputation proceeded her and she was known for being the most strict and conservative Elder the village had in many eras. Many of the cubs had only heard the story and the young Sabretooth had a very little clue they were related. Looking around he saw that three other cubs were to have their naming ceremonies on this day. Two girls and himself.

The sabretooth boy knew it was possible to fail and he wasn't about to be outdone by anyone, let alone girls. The other cub's Clans were standing nearby, expected only to accompany them until the Elder arrived. The shaman soon showed up. Her gray eyes were completely vacant of the need for sight. She rattled her staff, shaking the three coconuts that hang over the top of it.

The three of the kids looked at her with awe. Looking at her, the boy couldn't help but think she looked familiar but didn't put the pieces together. She was somewhat hunched over and leaning a bit into the support of the staff. It was obvious the prime of her life had long passed her.

"Younglings, today is your name day. To be granted your call sign, you must overcome but a single challenge. It will be different for each of you."

The sabretooth woman sniffed the air. "I smell before me, two she-lings and a single he-ling."

She did not recognize the boy's scent at first and approached them to get a closer inspection, sniffing again.

"Ah, a skunk she-ling." She whispered to the young girl who was the first in the line.

Moving on she repeated the process with the second girl. "No doubt a wise owl she-ling."

This left the sabretooth boy who tried his best to not come off with what he believed the scent of fear.

The older woman approached him and leaned down before smelling him. "Oh, my. The scent of the Felistris. You come from strong blood, child."

She stopped short of mentioning their relationship, though she realized it herself.

She whispered to him. "Your task is to bring me but a single trophy, you must hunt the Felker."

The Felker was a legendary beast who the boy had only heard about in tales told to him by his peers. He wasn't sure it even existed and yet now he was expected to hunt the thing.  The boy contemplated questioning his purpose.

"Elder, is this beast, not just a tale?" The cub asked in a muffled but respectful tone.

She smirked. "You shall see, child. Ask the same to the villagers and you shall find your answer."

The woman backed away from him and snapped her staff against the ground. "And so it is…off with you. Failure is not an option."

The woman began walking back to her hut, the coconuts again clanging against the side of her staff with each stride she took. The sabretooth wasn't sure what to think of his task. Yet, he also knew that it wasn't something he could turn down. The village expected him to complete whatever task was given to him. Taking a deep breath, the boy headed back toward the village to speak to an old friend.

The older man was outside of the hut, sharpening an iron spear with a rock. The cub approached the large wolf. The older man did not stop to see what the boy was doing. As the barefoot cub approached the older hunter some of the twigs broke underneath his step, giving away his position.

"Yes, my boy?" The man continued to whittle away the heated tip of the spear to make it into a point.

The cub huffed. "My task is to hunt the Felker."

"Oh? Well, then. You should be fine. That beast is but paltry prey."

The boy stammered as he spoke. "So it is real? Can you tell me about it a least?"

"Some say the Felker is but a legend but it is all too real. A slippery sleuthful fellow who lives for mischief. Those that have seen the foe, return with not but mixed tales that regale of riddles and rhymes. The best tool…is not a weapon but your mind." The man poked his head as he looked over at the boy.

The cub scratched his head. "So…I won't need a weapon?"

"It is best that you armed. Lest the fiend tries something funny. Besides…It's hardly the only thing you need to worry about. Here, I will give you a dagger." The burly wolf man reached behind him and pulled out a weapon he had finished earlier.

He showed it off to the boy, a bronze blade sitting on a rubber butt. "Crude but true all the same."

"Thanks, sir." The boy waited until he was handed the weapon.

The man reached over to grab the cub's shoulder. "Best of luck. Don't let us down."

"I won't. Where should I start looking?" The cub had no idea where to begin and rested on the laurels of a man who was known to be a member of the hunting group.

The older male sighed. "My, child. The hunt shall be yours alone. Trust your instincts. Have faith and the spirits shall deliver you to victory."

The man hit his chest twice and went back to sharpening his spear. The cub knew he would get no
 further assistance. He began to think of himself, of the tales he'd been told by the other towns folk. Recounting the legend in his head.

"Atop the forest green, sits a fellow lean. Its brown fur and jagged teeth grin, forever scurrying its den. A rodent small and round, chittering and nibbling its mouth full of nuts abound. Forever gazing, rhyming with hymns all too amazing. Its tongue is silvery, silk with the venom of riddelry. Beware the fellow who comes upon the beast, for their recount fall always fall short of a true telling of what is known as the Feast."

The boy had an idea of what he needed to attract the Felker. The folk tall spoke of the beast eating nuts, so all he had to figure out was what type of nuts.  The sabretooth held his knife at the read and headed out from the forest. It was a bright spring day and the sun filtered through the canopy of trees above. The cub could hear birds flocking and whistling above as they fluttered between branches.

He had no idea where to look. The boy had never hunted anything before and now he was expected to find a beast that, until today, he believed was a legend. The sabretooth made his way further into the forest, looking for any signs of nuts. Yet the only thing on the ground from what he could see were acorns, pinecones, and various fallen leaves on the forest floor. Little did he realize that acorns were just what he needed to attract the beast.

The cub continued into the forest until he heard what he thought was a stream. The sound of running water was something he had been taught as a younger child to be attracted to. He had been taken to the place before when he was younger. He stashed the knife in the back of his rope belt so he didn't have to carry it anymore. Looking to the side of him, he saw a deer drinking from the river.

The sabretooth snapped a twig as he approached the body of water. The critter nearby scattered away leaving him alone. He knelt to take a drink of water from the river. He wasn't really worried about it being clean or not since he'd drunk from it before. Once he was done drinking, he sat on the side of the river considering what he might be able to do. Allowing his bare feet to dangle in the cool water below.

The boy looked in front of him at a loss for what to do. Burying his face in his paws and thinking for a bit. A few moments passed until he heard some skittering nearby. He unsheathed his dagger, certain that it was some bear or other fell beast that was out to get him.

"Come weary travelers…allow me to cure your tiresome wares." An unfamiliar voice beckoned from a direction the boy had not yet been determined.

The cub looked around and searched for the source of it. Looking above all he saw was the leaves and branches shaking.  The sabretooth waited to hear something again for several minutes but heard nothing. Eventually, he picked himself up and determined he would cross the river. Looking at the river, it appeared to be rather still so he didn't think current would be a problem.

Diving in, his lithe body crashed through the surface of the water. The big cat began doggy paddling across, making rather good progress. As he reached about halfway he heard the voice again.

"Ah such calm waters, perhaps I should change this to make it better…"

Seconds passed and the cub felt the rush of the water pick up. Pushing him further and further down the river. He looked forward, feeling like he was making no progress. Yet he continued to trudge on even still. The boy knew the beast had to be close, telling himself it would most certainly be found on the other side of the now treacherous pass. The cub continued to paddle for several minutes until he finally reached the other side.

Pulling himself up, he brought himself back onto dry land. Panting and heaving, he felt rather fatigued. Laying down the sabretooth tried to catch his breath. The water died down before long as he could no longer hear it.

"Such a tiresome task, in the sun…you bask." The voice continued to mock him.

The feline felt his body warm up immediately. Looking up, the sun was no longer obstructed by the trees. Instead, he could very easily see its blazing light above him. He rolled over trying to get underneath a tree and yet its gaze remained upon him. Eventually, he drudgingly pulled himself to his feet and began to walk back under a canopy-covered area. Looking around, the entire forest floor where he now stood was very much littered with acorns.

Reaching into the back of his rope belt, he found that his dagger had gone missing. He figured he must have lost it while he was swimming. The cub noticed felt cooler than he had a moment ago. He shook himself of whatever water remained on his form.

"A watering is not needed, instead rain shall be heeded." The voice announced itself again.

A moment later and it began to poor. It was apparent the creature had some level of power over the area. The sabretooth felt like this was some type of dream, even pinching himself to make sure he was not asleep. Sure enough, this was not the case. Eventually, the onslaught of water began to pour down on him. Even though he was soaked he couldn't help but feel annoyed about the situation.

"Stop!" The cub shouted.

A shadowy figure skittered above and rested on a branch. "Oh, what's this? A child has gone amiss?"

The Felker was not accustomed to seeing small children and yet it was apparent that this was the case. Not yet revealing itself from the tree branches, The small creature snapped its fingers to stop the rain from falling.

"State your purpose, fur-child. Else all will not be so mild…" The creature made sure the boy could not see it.

The sabretooth tiger shook again. "I have come for you…I must bring you back with me."

"How now? I am no prisoner of yours or this sough."  The shade picked up an acorn from where it was standing and began to chew it.

The boy rolled his eyes. "What? I am here for my name day."

"Ah a ceremony to be sure, but one which none can find relief or cure." The silhouette waved back and forth as it spoke with a muffled tone between its bites.

The feline got on his two knees as if to beg. "Please?"

"Hmm…such pleasantries…such manners…is not the norm for your kind. A task I have for you, complete it and I shall heed your bind." The critter scratched his head.

The boy looked up. "What is it…I'll do anything."

"The Golden Acorn, though I cannot go with…She will provide what you request. Bring it to me and a doppelganger shall follow you in your quest." The beast finished eating and skittered off back into the canopy above.

"And…just where am I supposed to find that?" The cub whined again hoping to appeal to the beast for aid.

Chittering sounded as the voice boomed once again. "Over hills low and valleys deep. Through rivers small and trees large. Climb to the peak to pluck the peck. Run if you can, lest it claws you to pieces. Return to me and my words will ring true."

The chittering ended and so too did the voice. The cub picked himself up. He thought about what had been said to him. It wasn't so archaic that it didn't make sense. He began walking and searching for the first thing mentioned in the riddle. The boy remembered his mother had spoken of the great valley to the east. He hoped that there would be a hill leading to it. Garnering himself on all fours he sprinted in that direction.

Making rather quick progress, he eventually came to an area with an incline. He looked before him to see but a small hill. He wondered if this was what the Felker spoke of. Climbing to the top of it, he overlooked a huge dip. The valley below him cascaded even below where he could see, descending into a fog. The sabretooth eased himself into the slope before allowing himself to slide down.

He felt the wind rush past him as it pushed against his eyes, making him tear up a bit. The cub squinted as his body rushed down the entirety of the slope in minutes. At the base of it, he found himself to be surrounded by fog. It was so thick he could barely make out anything. Yet he could hear water in the distance and wasted no time in picking himself up to run in the distance where he thought it came from.

Continuing through the fog, it became increasingly chilled. His thick fur offered him enough warmth but his stool shivered a bit as he tried to adjust to the sudden change in temperature. The sabretooth braced himself as the breeze turned into a light gust. The wind seemingly pushed him back as he worked his way forward. The cub continued to brace himself against it as he made his way through it.

With each step, he took he could hear the sound of the river growing louder. He knew he had to be close. Eventually, he came out of the fog and into a swampy area. A sludge-filled lake covered with cat tails and moss. One huge tree dominates the center of it. Its boughs bent over the body of water as some of its scattered branches lay broken and twisted going every which way. The sabretooth gazed up at it, the tree didn't look very large.

He waded his way through the swamp, taking slow and methodic steps so he didn't get stuck. It wasn't very deep so he didn't have any issue with maintaining himself in it. It didn't take him very long to reach the trunk of the tree. Clawing into it he began to climb up its base, using the sharpness of his nails to help him gain traction. The sabretooth continued to make slow progress, occasionally losing his grip but still finding his way up.

Once he reached the first set of branches, he latched onto it and swung himself up. He had always enjoyed climbing trees and this one was no different. Taking it branch by branch, he levied himself from underneath them. The cub landed square on his bottom each time. Looking down, he saw he couldn't see the bottom anymore. The fog had regathered beneath him and obstructed his view.

He continued
 his way up the tree. It wasn't long before he reached the top. The cub could see the whithered reeds of what he assumed was the bird who guarded the so-called golden acorn. He lurched his body out so that he could reach out overtop him. The cub couldn't see overtop of the nest and so he felt around, certain that the acorn would be up there. Sure enough, he felt something firm and round, grabbing it in his paw.

Suddenly he heard a large caw. He straightened his posture so that he could see ahead. Coming right at him was a hawk with its talons stretched out coming right
 for him. The thing was racing towards him and by the time he had a chance to react, he had been grabbed by it. The boy flailed and panicked as he was picked up by the large bird. The thing flapped its wings, each time it did so the cub could hear its movement.

"Help!" He screamed out at the top of his lungs hoping someone would hear him.

The bird cawed again and the sky began to rumble. Continuing to clutch the acorn, he tried to wiggle loose. Looking below him he could see the forest below. Ahead of him the skies turned black and began cracking with light. A flash of lightning struck in front of them, startling the bird as it dropped him and flew for its own life. The cub felt himself free falling, certain that he would meet his demise, closing his eyes…he hoped the whole ordeal would be over with.

When he reopened his eyes again, he found himself on the forest ground. The cub examined himself and saw no apparent harm had come to him. He was on the floor and his body was sore as he came to.

"A fine job, you have done. All in good fun…" The familiar shade from earlier held the golden acorn he retrieved in its  formless paw/

The boy rubbed his head. He hadn't recalled making the trip back and yet he was there all the same.

"How did I get back?" The boy couldn't help but ask.

"Worry not, all is well. A promise is a promise, kept with this bell." The shadow snapped its fingers making a flash of light and disappeared.

The boy covered his eyes from the blinding light. When he opened them again he found he was back in his village. The cub looked up and down at himself, finding a squirrel on his shoulder. Is this what the beast meant? He couldn't be sure but it was apparent he had accomplished the deed.

The Elder soon emerged from her hut. The clacking of her staff resounded with each stride she took, back to the central fire of the village. The boy and the wolf, waited eagerly for her tidings.

"And so…it has come to be. Child of the Felistris clan, let it be known that you are to be called Galzra from this day forth." The woman slammed the staff on the floor causing the coconuts to clang together.

The village cheered and the boy was hoisted onto the kind wolf man's arms. They championed him around town. The boy puffed out his chest proudly. The squirrel on his shoulder chirped into his ears. It had been a strange experience but one which he wouldn't change for the world.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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by pentrep
Fields of Valor
Last in pool
A coming-of-age story featuring
furrychrome
furrychrome
Sabretooth character and his hunt for manhood.

Keywords
male 982,618, cub 213,500, feline 121,524, boy 64,844, shota 26,633, magic 19,964, kitten 7,964, adventure 4,600, tribal 4,359, challenge 1,093, historical 367, sabretooth 290, coming of age 107, furrychrome 77
Details
Type: Writing - Document
Published: 2 weeks, 4 days ago
Rating: General

MD5 Hash for Page 1... Show Find Identical Posts [?]
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2 comments

BBCode Tags Show [?]
 
nelson88
2 weeks, 4 days ago
Very,very cool story,Pent!^^
pentrep
2 weeks, 4 days ago
Thanks.
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