I’ll admit – I was going for a ‘cuteness’ factor on last week’s Flash! Friday contest when I was presented with an adorable photograph of a little orange and white striped kitten. To have the additional dragon’s bidding be a gladiator? YEA.
Mixing these two elements was fun, indeed, and allowed a new voice to emerge from my subconscious and apply itself to my keyboard.
Claws on the Keyboard
210 fur-covered words
I was born to wage battle. The day I was expelled from my mother’s body was the day I started training to be a warrior. ‘Born under the right auspices,’ the shaman declared at my birth, ‘Born to fight, this one.’
As soon as the weaning I was removed from my loving, simplistic family to be housed with the other warriors of the clan…surgically altered to remove the temptation of breeding, taught by our handlers to become gladiators.
By the time I was learning to walk, I was perfecting my craft. My body, a weapon, my infantile speech, a war cry. Nothing could sway me from my militaristic aims: not playmates, not comforts, not baubles. The fire of the warrior burned through me, tempering this soft and malleable flesh into rock hard muscle and iron determination.
Not even the cuteness of a kitten could melt my warrior’s heart.
Daily my brothers and sisters of the warrior clan perfect our craft. Mock battles are frequent and unplanned as we balance stealth, agility and silent hunting with the sudden attack and fierce defense which mark our kind as the deadliest of all creatures.
Soon, the human will let the cats of the warrior clan hunt the evil rabbit in the yard!