It felt as though the last day of summer had come to a close in East, as the dappled sunlight faded through the trees turning them the color of gemstones, Artemis, a young cat, wandered aimlessly through the foliage. Her father was perhaps the best healer the Anbu had ever known, but it seemed like that was not her forte in any way. The sight of blood had never made her squeamish, and she knew the typical herbs used for various things, but somehow she never really made anyone better, and her bedside manner was horrible, though to be fair, so was her fathers. Her mother was the gentle one, the one that made people feel comfortable, always there to be kind.
It was today, the day of the blue moon that she decided she would choose her path with the Anbu, and what she would become to carry her own weight, but through the day nothing had come to mind. With agitation her spotted tail switched back and forth. Perhaps she was the only child in camp that did not belong. She didn’t have the curves like Saeriel, or the kindness of Faye, the abilities Oracle had, nor the passion that radiated from Aliel, all her aunts. Let alone the protectiveness of Jiji, the grace of Nyx or the bravery of her grandmother Valiant. All Artemis was good at was patience, patience, silence and very good common sense. Several of the anbu had tried to teach her fighting, with swoards, staffs and daggers, but nothing quite clicked. Somehow she doubted that it ever would... she doubted herself.
She wandered silently through the leaves, her body willow thin and weaving through the oak grove deep in the territory. Almost out of nowhere Artemis ended up in a small clearing, where, when the moon reached its peak would be right above her.
“Goddess above, what is my calling… where do I fit in? Please send me something to guide me.”
She whispered silently, standing in the clearing with her head turned upwards, waiting for the moon to bathe her in its glow.
It was today, the day of the blue moon that she decided she would choose her path with the Anbu, and what she would become to carry her own weight, but through the day nothing had come to mind. With agitation her spotted tail switched back and forth. Perhaps she was the only child in camp that did not belong. She didn’t have the curves like Saeriel, or the kindness of Faye, the abilities Oracle had, nor the passion that radiated from Aliel, all her aunts. Let alone the protectiveness of Jiji, the grace of Nyx or the bravery of her grandmother Valiant. All Artemis was good at was patience, patience, silence and very good common sense. Several of the anbu had tried to teach her fighting, with swoards, staffs and daggers, but nothing quite clicked. Somehow she doubted that it ever would... she doubted herself.
She wandered silently through the leaves, her body willow thin and weaving through the oak grove deep in the territory. Almost out of nowhere Artemis ended up in a small clearing, where, when the moon reached its peak would be right above her.
“Goddess above, what is my calling… where do I fit in? Please send me something to guide me.”
She whispered silently, standing in the clearing with her head turned upwards, waiting for the moon to bathe her in its glow.
