"Marked"

Part 5

 

The young white squirrel clambered down the tree trunk to the forest floor where the blue jay he'd killed only moments before lay in a crumpled heap. Ripple and Twilight, his gray siblings, raced over to him when he reached the dead bird. They stared at the beautiful, lifeless blue jay.

 

"Why did you do that?" Ripple asked, clutching her throat.

 

Storm stared hard at his sister. "He tried to kill me."

 

"Well, he didn't do a very good job," Twilight observed, a hint of awe coating his words. "He's deader than a drowned rat."

 

Storm looked upon his enemy's corpse. The powdery blue feathers caught in the light that filtered through the canopy above. He spotted something dark pooling beneath the bird's skull. Blood. His enemy's blood.

 

The white squirrel crouched down and dipped his paw into the dark liquid.

 

"Storm, don't," Ripple warned.

 

He ignored her and lifted his paw to examine the sticky red lifeforce. It was bright against his pale coat. He wiped the blood across his hind leg and stared down at the three short lines smeared into his fur, smirking. It made him feel powerful to wear his enemy's blood.

 

Storm dipped his paw into the drying pool again and stained the opposite leg as his siblings watched with an equal mixture of horror and awe. He marked his forelegs and his chest, tipping the long hairs of his tail with the crimson lifeblood. At last, he smeared a circle around one eye and slashed a line through it from his forehead to his cheek.

 

He rose to his full height, standing before Ripple and Twilight. They looked back at him with jaws open.

 

Storm's transformation into an elite warrior had begun.