Ever since StellarWind gave me a wicked, crushing review, I decided to work on my writing skills. I hope this story is not as n00bish as the first. Please critique constructively. If this is bad, I will improve on the next chapter. This idea is an idea I've been carrying for a while. I hope the chapter name I picked worked well.
You know were those old legends of werewolves and werecats come from? They came from us. The Kitha. The Kitha have existed alongside normal humans throughout history, helping mediate between nature and humans. No one knows how we came to be, but we actually allowed ourselves to be seen, so the people made up legends about us, trying to explain who we were, and what we were doing. However, people became less accepting of the odd people who could change from animal to human. They started killing us, and some fought back, creating the negative mythos. Those semi-wild, reverted ones were killed off, leaving those who went into hiding alive. We now stay in hiding, while interacting with the rest of society as ‘normal' humans. We are now the hidden folk of nature.
I am Coriander ‘Cory' Solsu, a member of the Peregrine Kitha, also known as the wereperegrine. I am fifteen, and will soon be inducted as an adult member, soon to be able to turn full peregrine, a sign of maturation, skill, and power. There are many different types of Kitha, like the rare weregharials of India, the reclusive wereokapis of Africa, and the very common werecoyote of North America. They all have their own traditions, but all of them include the Ceremony of MaKitha, the ceremony in which one is considered an adult member. I am an AnKitha in my own tribe, which is basically the position below an adult (MaKitha) Kitha. My tribe's name is Havanis, one of the tribes of the Peregrine Kitha in the United States. We are a fairly new, but respected tribe in the Appalachian Mountains.
But more about me. Other than having the ability to become a half-peregrine, half-human giant bird-thing with the ability to communicate with peregrine falcons, I am pretty normal. I live in Youngstown with my mom and dad, (my dad is human, my mom is a Peregrine Kitha) and three cats, who seem to like us an awful lot. I'm in 9th grade at Youngstown High School and have a paper route. On the outside, my family is normal, but every three nights my mom and I head to the Appalachians for my training to become an adult member, and for my mother to advise the leader on various issues, but being so new, we rarely have any. By the way, the Kitha definition of ‘new' is fifty years old, or less. Our tribe is thirty-eight years old, but I've heard of some tribes, like the Parash tribe of Lion Kitha in Africa, to be over 1500 years old!
This night, my mom and I were driving up to the certain point in the woods in which we were to fly to a certain point in the mountains to attend that night's meeting. My mom was nervous as usual, her hands gripping the wheel enough to almost break it. It already was covered in a spider-web of cracks, anyway. Did I say that most Kitha have enhanced strength in all their forms?
"Mm-hmm, Joeseph wants to know what to do with the new members of the tribe. ‘Train them, or let them become familiar with the traditions?' he asks," She says, gripping the wheel of our small, green SUV tightly, her golden eyes staring intently at the woods in front of us. "I say that those ten-year-olds should just-"
"Mom!" I said, getting her attention. "We're here."
"Sorry, Cory," Mom says, turning her head, making her curly brown-red hair twitch over her shoulder. "I was just nervous about what to tell Joeseph about those new turners."
"I know. You've been fretting about it for a while. Let's go." I responded, motioning with my hand to get moving.
Kitha
Chapter 1: The Explanation
You know were those old legends of werewolves and werecats come from? They came from us. The Kitha. The Kitha have existed alongside normal humans throughout history, helping mediate between nature and humans. No one knows how we came to be, but we actually allowed ourselves to be seen, so the people made up legends about us, trying to explain who we were, and what we were doing. However, people became less accepting of the odd people who could change from animal to human. They started killing us, and some fought back, creating the negative mythos. Those semi-wild, reverted ones were killed off, leaving those who went into hiding alive. We now stay in hiding, while interacting with the rest of society as ‘normal' humans. We are now the hidden folk of nature.
I am Coriander ‘Cory' Solsu, a member of the Peregrine Kitha, also known as the wereperegrine. I am fifteen, and will soon be inducted as an adult member, soon to be able to turn full peregrine, a sign of maturation, skill, and power. There are many different types of Kitha, like the rare weregharials of India, the reclusive wereokapis of Africa, and the very common werecoyote of North America. They all have their own traditions, but all of them include the Ceremony of MaKitha, the ceremony in which one is considered an adult member. I am an AnKitha in my own tribe, which is basically the position below an adult (MaKitha) Kitha. My tribe's name is Havanis, one of the tribes of the Peregrine Kitha in the United States. We are a fairly new, but respected tribe in the Appalachian Mountains.
But more about me. Other than having the ability to become a half-peregrine, half-human giant bird-thing with the ability to communicate with peregrine falcons, I am pretty normal. I live in Youngstown with my mom and dad, (my dad is human, my mom is a Peregrine Kitha) and three cats, who seem to like us an awful lot. I'm in 9th grade at Youngstown High School and have a paper route. On the outside, my family is normal, but every three nights my mom and I head to the Appalachians for my training to become an adult member, and for my mother to advise the leader on various issues, but being so new, we rarely have any. By the way, the Kitha definition of ‘new' is fifty years old, or less. Our tribe is thirty-eight years old, but I've heard of some tribes, like the Parash tribe of Lion Kitha in Africa, to be over 1500 years old!
This night, my mom and I were driving up to the certain point in the woods in which we were to fly to a certain point in the mountains to attend that night's meeting. My mom was nervous as usual, her hands gripping the wheel enough to almost break it. It already was covered in a spider-web of cracks, anyway. Did I say that most Kitha have enhanced strength in all their forms?
"Mm-hmm, Joeseph wants to know what to do with the new members of the tribe. ‘Train them, or let them become familiar with the traditions?' he asks," She says, gripping the wheel of our small, green SUV tightly, her golden eyes staring intently at the woods in front of us. "I say that those ten-year-olds should just-"
"Mom!" I said, getting her attention. "We're here."
"Sorry, Cory," Mom says, turning her head, making her curly brown-red hair twitch over her shoulder. "I was just nervous about what to tell Joeseph about those new turners."
"I know. You've been fretting about it for a while. Let's go." I responded, motioning with my hand to get moving.
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Keep up the good work.