(WIP) Thorn's Backstory

Wind whistles through the air, causing the ivy drapes covering a cave to wave around. The cave is located high up on the side of a large mountain, high enough to reach the edge of the snowy cap of the mountain. From inside the cave, slight cracking is heard as an egg hatches, though muffled as the mother incubates it. The mother griffin carefully steps off the woven stick nest to see her egg hatch, standing beside the rest of the family who've now gathered around to watch too. This egg is the last one to hatch out of all 4 of the clutch. It's hatching has been so delayed, that the whole family of griffins were wondering if it had actually been a bad egg. They all watch in shocked silence as the egg wriggles in the nest, the griffin inside struggling to break free from the shell. Cracks form on the shell as the baby griffin uses its beak to penetrate through it. After a while, the griffin eventually manages to break free of the shell, panting from the effort. "He's out!" One of the hatchlings exclaim. "About time!" Another reacts in a sarcastic tone. "What took him so long to hatch anyway?" "And why is he so small?" Another questions. "Well, all that matters is that he made it." The mother replies, walking back to the nest to sit by the little hatchling to keep him warm. "What are you naming him?" One hatchling asks "-Oh! -oh! wait! Can I name him? Please?" The youngest hatchling interrupts just as the mother was about to reply. Then, she replies, "No, Scorch, I'm not allowing you to name him." "But why?" Scorch whines. "Because that is my decision, not yours." The mother puts lightly. "Aww..." Scorch grumbles in defeat. "Yeah you'll name him something stupid anyway." One older hatchling comments. "Hey!" Scorch protests "Thistle, enough. Be nice to your sister." The mother griffin says firmly. "Yeah, Thistle, don't you know how to be nice?" Scorch retorts. Thistle rolls his eyes, walking away from the conversation. "Well, you did let dad name me, so is he going to have a say again this time or what?" The oldest griffin suddenly asks. The father looks at his eldest son and replies, "Well, Clawstrike, it took me way too long for me to pick just one name. So I decided it was best to let your mother do it, she knows best for these things anyway." "That doesn't make sense, I feel like you should be able to have a say." Clawstrike replies. "Well, I do, in a way..." The father says, unsure how to explain it. "I make sure the name fits, you could say. Speaking of which, Breezefeather, have you thought of a name for him yet?" Breezefeather keeps her eyes on her new son, clearly deep in thought as she observes him. The father stands awkwardly silent, but after a while concludes, "I guess she'll tell me when she's ready. But anyway, I gotta get going. If anything happens, you know what to do Claw." Clawstrike nods, and Breezefeather suddenly breaks free from her trance, looking up and saying quickly, "Oh, bye Strike! Good luck with hunting!" Strike looks back and says, "Thanks Breeze! Once I get back tell me if you've decided on a name." Breezefeather nods in response and waves goodbye, turning her focus back to the little griffin struggling around in the nest. He wobbles as he tries to walk around, trying to keep his balance. He ends up running face first into his mother's side, making her flinch with pain from his beak. "Ouch!" Breezefeather exclaims, but the pain was short lived, so she laughs, helping the little baby griffin back up with her wing. He swats at Breezefeather's wing feathers playfully, his talons managing to scratch her. She flinches again, but this time without yelping. "My, you're quite a feisty little thing. Prickly like a thorn!" Then Breezefeather figured it out. She would name him Thorn. "Mom, can I play with him? Please?" Scorch pleads, attempting to make puppy eyes at Breezefeather. Breezefeather smiles with amusement, then replies, "I've already told you, you can't play with him. He's too young. You can play with him when he gets bigger." "But when? I wanna know when." Scorch asks "why don't you play with your brothers?" Breezefeather asks back. "They don't wanna play with me. Besides, they're boring anyway. I wanna play princess, and they just ruin it by being the monsters!" Scorch explains. Breezefeather sighs, losing her patience. "Well, you can't play with Thorn right now. Tell you what, when he's 4 months old I'll let you play with him." She promises, but Scorch flings her head back, letting out a frustrated growl. "But that's gonna be in like, forever!" She complains. Breezefeather takes a deep breath before replying, trying to prevent herself from lashing out. "Well, you'll have to just wait, that's how it has to be." She says firmly. Scorch hangs her head towards the floor. "Okay..." she mumbles slowly as she walks away, upset that she has no one to play with her.

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